It's been so long, too long since I last wrote. For me, I need to be inspired to write and also not too busy. So, you'd think a global pandemic would provide the time to blog, but the truth is I have never worked harder in my life. I have found myself too tired and also working well into the night. But often, my husband and I watch television in the evenings together. 

I have seen many different television shows in the last year. I am currently watching "The New Pope" on HBO. It is brilliant, shocking, beautiful, profound, ugly. I absolutely love it. Jude Law portrays Pius XIII/Lenny Belardo. His character debuted in the 2016 series "The Young Pope" which is not nearly as good. In the current series, he is in a coma and has been for months. The Vatican has replaced him with Pope John Paul III/John Brannox played by John Malkovich in an absolutely brilliant performance as a drug-addicted, fragile, cowardly man who has never seen himself as worthy especially of his current position. 

There is one episode that truly speaks to me: Episode Seven. The Vatican has been attacked, bombed by an unknown terrorist which killed the dog of Pope John III and he is in a deep depression and wont come out of his room. Pope Pius XIII (Jude Law) has woken from a coma. It is a medical miracle that only his doctor and nurse are aware of. He needs a few days to gather his thoughts without being recognized, so his doctor invites him to his home in Venice for a few days. 

The Pope meets the doctor's wife and son. His wife is heartbroken over her 11 year old son who was born with a fatal diagnosis that has robbed him of muscle tone. He also suffers from a heart condition, extreme medical disabilities and cognitive deficits. He lays in bed all day, every day. He is terribly thin and completely unresponsive. The parents love him, of course, and care deeply for him. His mother urges the Pope to heal her son. He declines, says he is not capable of miracles. He is...just a Pope. But she begs him. He warns her - One thing changes, everything changes. When the Pope touches the child and tells him about Heaven, a tear falls from the child's eye. It's more movement than the parents have seen in years. 

Meanwhile, John Malkovich goes to confess his sins, shocking revelations. The Cardinal says to him, "God saves us, always. God does not deny anyone the grace of salvation. It's the most beautiful thing there is. We love vanity and sin. We love deprivation and wickedness, so we believe God has abandoned us, that God doesn't like us. But God doesn't manage our lives. He does not correct our mistakes. He doesn't manage our weaknesses. God does not stop our hand when it plunges in sin. All he does is save us. In the end God saves us."

Another priest says, "We can weaken the strong, but we cannot strengthen the fragile." He is speaking of John Malkovich's character but what comes next seems to apply to this statement as well. 

The scene returns to Venice where Jude Law's character is on his knees before the child and praying his heart out to God saying, "Make him a man Lord, make him a man." The child lifts his arm for a moment...and then drops it and dies. The Pope was right. He cannot perform this miracle. His father sits at his bedside. His mother lays next to him in bed and touches his cheek. Later, she asks the Pope, "What is Heaven like?" He tells her it is much like earth but in Heaven we glimpse God. The mother asks if her son will go to hell. The Pope says yes -- he is in hell now. 

Before the Pope departs for Rome, he invites the couple to their ballroom to show them a miracle. He holds their hands, they all close their eyes, and they pray together. As the music plays you see an almost glowing vision of the child. It is his soul lifting through the air and rising toward Heaven.  

This episode resonated so deeply, for obvious reasons. There was a moment as Bella was dying that her nurse Emma was praying over her, asking God to let her live. She was certain of a miracle. Bella had been unresponsive for hours. In this moment, Bella opened her eyes and looked straight at Emma. I was grateful that Emma had that moment. 

What I wish I could have seen then, and I understand now, is that sometimes what you want and what you desperately need is not what will happen. We wished, we prayed and we believed she would get better. But in the end, we could not heal her. God saved her. I have no doubt she is in Heaven and I will see her again someday. I still miss her terribly but the pain of her loss has changed over the years. There is room for happiness once more along with grief. 

This last year has been one of a kind. The global pandemic has distanced us all from everyone - except our nuclear families. We have spent time together under one roof. In reality, the time we have spent together as a family is more time than we had ever hoped for. At times it has been difficult and we have gotten on each other's nerves. But, even then, I was grateful for every moment with them. Life is so fragile and fleeting. So many friends and loved ones have lost their own family members to COVID-19 or desperation. One day, hopefully soon, life will return to normal. AJ will return to school and we will return to work in our office and on business trips. I will always look back on this year as many difficult things but more than anything I will remember the year we were able to spend together. The faces of the ones I love the most right here with me every day. I am grateful for this time together.

For most of my years on this earth, I have happily said goodbye to the year and welcomed a new one warmly and with the possibility of great experiences. I think that is largely because many of the years have been equal parts good/bad or perhaps just mediocre. However, when it's time to bid adieu to a particularly spectacular year, it's more difficult. 2019 set an exceptionally high standard for 2020 to match. It was quite possibly one of the greatest years of my life filled with unexpected joy and challenges. Also, it marks the end of another decade - which fills me with nostalgia, memories and a little bit of wistfulness. 

When I look back on the decade, I am certain that 2010-2020 shaped me, shook me, transformed me and challenged me far more than I ever believed possible. This was the decade of my 40s and it was turbulent, stressful, tragic, followed by intense self examination and care and finally ending in renewed hope and new love. As I depart my fourth decade and enter my fifth later this year, I am truly happy. I know who I am. I know where I want to go and I know who I will be journeying with. I am grateful for all that I have.  In 10 years time I experienced:

A much more demanding and challenging career path and countless business trips
The intense joys and sorrows of raising a special needs child with major medical problems
Depression
Chairing a board of directors
Back to back blizzards in 2010 resulting in 36 inches of snow in a week (for a Native Texan, this is major)
The end of a marriage and all the lost dreams that collapsed along with it
My only remaining (and beloved) grandmother's death
A journey to an amicable co-parenting arrangement
Experiencing intense love and support of friends and family in Bella's last month
The end of one of my two children's lives, her burial and the days that followed lost in a haze of sadness 
The fear of losing the only child I have left and all that has been associated with that
My college friend's sudden death of her husband at the age of 44 leaving her with 3 girls
Watching my child learn to swim, fish, ice skate, play hockey, basketball and baseball
Parenting my son through the loss of his paternal grandfather who was dear to all of us
Dealing with relatives who do not and never will understand the experience of having and losing Bella
Living through 5 years in a toxic relationship but learning a lot from it so I don't ever end up in one again
Adopting a fabulous rescue dog who filled a hole in our family
Vacations to Disney (2 times), Hawaii, Costa Rica (2 times), NYC, Paris for New Years Eve, Budapest for Christmas
Ziplining, skiing, running a few 5ks, riding a horse again after 35 years, learning to grill, paddleboarding 
Losing my mother to COPD and lung cancer due to 50+ years of smoking
Receiving the call that my dad had a massive heart attack and being grateful for his survival 
Attending the 2015 Superbowl in Houston - Patriots v Falcons - one of the best ones ever
Buying a house in a neighborhood we love
Worshipping at the National Cathedral
Watching the TCU Horned Frogs WIN the Rose Bowl in a white knuckle game with the Oregon Ducks
Helping my sister through her own personal tragedy and feeling helpless to help her
Watching the Washington Capitols win the Stanley Cup
Learning of my son's dual diagnosis of ADHD and anxiety and working to get our arms around that 
Getting a cockapoo puppy that is equal parts adorable and destructive
Realizing that my math abilities stop at 5th grade math by today's standards
Falling in love with the kindest, most amazing man I have ever known
Marrying him and blending a family of 2 boys, one grown son, his wife and 2 stepgrandkids, 2 dogs and 1 dog-cat
Watching my sister meet a wonderfully kind, generous and loving man and getting engaged
Having our first Christmas with the blended families (6 kids, 4 adults)
Continued suffering as a Cowboys fan but successfully converting my son as a fan
Watching the Washington Nationals win the World Series with my son
​
There's many more moments of course, but these were the moments that brought the greatest joys and the intense sorrows. More than anything in my life, the deaths broke my heart repeatedly but also instilled in me a gratefulness for health, for life and the true gift of growing older as well as the difficult task of understanding the unpredictable nature of mortality and the extreme importance of living each day because we are not promised another. As I turn 50 in the spring of 2020, I'm proud of the wrinkles, the hard-earned wisdom, the privilege of a comfortable home, a career that I enjoy and where I am valued and a love filled with deep mutual care, nurturing and adoration. I am also forever grateful for the experience of motherhood and all the joys and challenges it brings. Even on challenging days I treasure my time with my son. When 2030 rolls around he will be graduating from college. That's a difficult reality to envision but I know he and I will grown into the changes ahead. 

As I reflect on 2010-2019 and look forward to what lies ahead, I am keenly aware that the best years are the next 10. I'm still youthful and healthy, my son lives at home, I'm newly married to a great man and my family (nuclear and extended) is intact. I'd like to think that I learned a lot about love, loss and life in the last 10 years to help me truly live in the moment of each day we have together, to bask in the love that has been created, to focus on what matters and to teach our boys to grow into men. It's a special moment in time. As 2019 turns into 2020 tonight, I wish I could just hit the pause button at the transition point and take it all in -- the lessons of the past, the possibilities of the future -- and say a proper goodbye and hello.

 
I have succeeded at a number of things in life, but my friends and family would tell you that love is not one of those things. In fact, my ability to choose a man to be my partner in life has met with various levels of disaster. So much so in fact that my friends had requested to choose the “next one.”

Now, not every relationship was a total loss. Of particular note was my marriage to my children’s father. He is a good person and without him I would not have experienced parenthood which was and is my dream come true. We now are better co-parents than we were life partners. I respect and him and care about his well-being. I’m proud of us for being good parents and putting our son above ourselves.

But the high school sweetheart who is now an Elvis impersonator – he was NOT a good choice. I won’t go through all the others – let’s just say that for a variety of reasons, who I have been attracted to has historically not been who meets my needs and brings out the best in me.

Until this year.

I had not been looking when I found Lee. And he was not unknown to me. I knew him – only slightly – through work. He lives in South Dakota and we saw each other in December at a board meeting I made a presentation at before I left to celebrate Christmas in Budapest by myself. I was thrilled to be doing a solo vacation for the first time in my life. I mentioned to him that we should have dinner the next time he was in DC. He agreed. I meant it as a friendly but professional dinner.

You see, I liked him and thought he was nice but I had no idea he was towards the end of an unplanned and unwanted divorce that had shaken him to the core and shattered his heart some months prior.

In the first days of the new year we started texting and talking and by the time our professional dinner arrived in mid-January, it was a date. A really good date. With an old fashioned, innocent kiss. It was a whirlwind courtship. I have made so many mistakes in this area so on one hand, it felt reckless to be moving so quickly. On the other hand, after several years of really focusing on what I need and want (and what my son needs and wants), Lee was the perfect blend and our mutual friends approved.

I said to my friend Jana, “He’s not my usual type.” Jana, never one to miss a beat or a quip said, “Not your type is a good place to start.”

What I meant was this – Lee is a wholesome, down to earth man. He knows who he is and what he believes but at the same
time he is respectful of others’ viewpoints and he listens to other points of view and aims to understand them. He isn’t easily intimidated. He’s strong and resilient. He’s brave and successful and smart but also very humble and kind. He’s patient and he has no discernable temper. He doesn’t react with emotion. He waits, processes, and carefully considers his reactions.  He’s ambitious and adventurous. He takes risks and he doesn’t wait for life to happen to him – when he wants something, he pursues it. In a world where so many people take the easy road, he is willing to be a leader and make difficult decisions which is an elusive quality these days. He knows how to give advice and is not annoyed when people do not take it. He is confident, loving and generous. Most of all he is perhaps the kindest and most genuine person I have ever known. I trust him implicitly and as I told my friend Julie – he makes me want to be the very best version of myself.

I can honestly say I have never felt as if I can trust any man with my life and all that comes with it. I have always held back pieces of me. I could never let myself be fully vulnerable with anyone before. I never intended to. Perhaps that is a function of watching my parents’ marriage dissolve and never wanting to let myself be vulnerable in that way. I think that’s probably what it stemmed from. Maybe I subconsciously chose people based on that.

But so much has happened in the last 10 years. I’ve grown so much and healed and learned a lot about myself and what I need and want. I wasn’t looking for Lee. I was really in a good place as a single mom with lots of great friends. The last thing I expected to do was fall in love with a colleague and in 6 months time, marry him.

But here I am. A newlywed. Happier than I ever knew I could be. My son loves him too and even though my son has a dedicated dad, Lee brings yet another wonderful person into his life and honestly, can you ever have too many wonderful people who love you? No! Lee has 2 sons as well and 2 grandsons and 3 sisters. I love the life we are building together and all of the special people in it.

Lee and I got married on the 4th of July in his hometown of Pierre, SD. We had a simple ceremony. My son walked me down the aisle. One of his sons was his best man. We had about 60 people there and then we all went back to our house in Pierre for a traditional 4th of July party with ribs, brisket, wedding cake and massive amounts of fireworks. It was perfect.

However many years we have together, it will never be enough. I wish I had found him earlier in life. Yet, I also feel strongly that life has shaped me into who I am now and that perhaps it all worked out just as it was supposed to. Because of all we have been through I think we will both always treasure what we have found in each other – every day – in large and small ways.

​It took me a long time to figure out love. But I think I have finally gotten it right. Lee is the perfect person for me and I look back on all the things that had to happen to get us to notice each other in a different way last December, and I just think – it was meant to be. This year has been a blessing like few others I have ever known.  

I met him in 2017.

His reputation preceded him. I had been told, “you should get to know Lee. He’s very connected but don’t piss him off!” The advice was from a trusted friend and colleague. I took the words to heart. Then, we both annoyed him (I would later discover Lee doesn’t really get pissed off – annoyed is about as far as it goes). I called him to apologize for what was an honest oversight and he was very gracious. 

We didn’t actually meet in person until August of 2017 at a work dinner with about 12 people. I was the host and trying to talk
with everyone. We spoke for about 15 minutes. My first observations upon meeting him were:

He’s so much taller than I thought he would be.

He’s not the least bit intimidating. Quite the contrary. Soft spoken. Quiet in a group but very personable one on one.

He’s very generous. We immediately realized we both had sons and his oldest is a rocket scientist. Mine is an aviation enthusiast. As soon as I mentioned that, he offered to connect me to his son who works at NASA so my son could meet him and learn more about space travel.

I left the dinner thinking – Lee is really nice and interesting and a calm, steady presence. And yes, very connected politically. I enjoyed talking to him.

We interacted periodically over the next 2 years. Conference conversations, holiday cards, a sympathy card when his mother died. An important business contact who I genuinely liked. That’s all.

Flash forward to December 2019. I presented at a board meeting he was at. The next day as I was leaving the hotel I ran into him in the lobby. I saw him before he saw me. I read people really well and here’s what I saw: A sadness hung on him like I hadn’t noticed before. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Sadness, worry, burdens – I couldn’t quite tell. But I could see in that moment his heart was heavy for some reason and he seemed so alone. I can’t really explain it but I felt compelled to say hello and reach out in kindness. So I did. We chatted a bit and I said something along the lines of – You know, we never end up talking at these meetings and I wish we did. Next time you’re in DC, we should have lunch or dinner.

It was a business lunch or dinner I was proposing. A friendly gesture. I meant it too. I’d like to get to know him better from a professional perspective. He smiled and perked up and said – That would be great. Let’s do that. Im in town in mid-January. Let’s get dinner. I agreed and departed for the airport. He seemed happier after we talked and that made me happy. He’s such a nice man. It almost hurt to see him so burdened.

What I didn’t know and found out soon afterwards is that he was in the midst of an unplanned and unwanted divorce. His marriage of 20 years had disintegrated and he was devastated and uncomfortable about every aspect of his future.

I also didn’t know that on the night before I approached him in the hotel lobby, he had been commiserating with a fellow board member and she had said, “Lee, I see you with someone like Brandy.” That comment was really out of the blue because as much as I like this person – I don’t know her well. I was surprised to later hear she had said that to Lee. But grateful. Ever grateful in fact.

​How could I have ever known that in just 6 months we would be married and blissfully happy?
 

When you are a single parent of a young child who has already lost his sibling, you have to carefully weigh your choices in life. Would I like to adopt? Foster parent? Move to a new city? Date men that I'm attracted to but who may not be best for my son? Yes, yes, yes, and yes. But being a parent means it isn't all about you. For that matter, it's not about you most of the time. I have one child left to raise and what he needs more than anything else in this world is stability, peace and love. We have seven years left together before he will head off to college and more than anything in this world, I want to fill those years with moments that lead to building his character and values, helping him understand who he is, strengthening his faith, guiding him on safe and responsible choices and helping him feel secure in an ever-changing world. 

So maybe it sounds silly but I had decided that love was just something I needed to put on hold or maybe even just forego. I had tried making a relationship work and it failed. The timing was off. I was grieving and not even understanding what grief  and depression meant and I didn't have enough to give to this person who needed a lot from me. My son had a front row seat to that failure and has been very protective of me ever since. Mix in a demanding job, family and friends and a relationship was just more than I could handle. 

I don't regret the time I spent alone. It may have been the first time in my entire life that I spent time deeply connecting with myself and exploring who I was at mid-life after having two children, burying one, getting divorced, trying to hold down a big job and support a five year old boy while working hard not to fall apart. I needed that time to figure out who I was NOW. What I discovered is that there is a beauty to being alone. It forces you to dive deep into your thoughts and face your past. It enables you to accept who you are and then to focus on what your future should look like. 

In December I found myself alone for Christmas. My son was with his dad and I just didn't feel like going to visit family. What I really wanted to do was travel which is a passion of mine. I settled on Budapest. It was cheaper than Paris and the universe just seemed to be pointing me in that direction. I even tried to recruit some friends to join me but I ended up vacationing solo. My first vacation alone and I loved every single minute of it. I toured like a crazy person. I was up at 8 am and going late into the night. In 3 days I walked 30 miles and saw most everything there was to see, enjoyed a Christmas Eve Vivaldi concert in a church, went to see Le Boheme on Christmas Night and attended services at St. Stephens Basilica. It was an amazing experience. I returned completely content with being alone and fairly resigned to staying single for the foreseeable future, maybe forever.

Oh but that's the beauty of life, isn't it? You plan and God laughs. In my case, that's exactly what I think happened. Someone I have known and admired platonically for some time had, unbeknownst to me, been going through a really challenging fall with a marriage that was falling apart and not by his choice. With a broken heart and an uncertain future, he was doing his best to navigate his new normal. We ran into each other and without knowing each other's situations, mentioned having lunch or dinner in January to catch up in the new year. Soon we started texting and talking and emailing. Then we had that dinner. Then another. And another. Then a weekend visit. And now we have quite a few more visits planned and it's fair to say we are really fond of each other. Oh, and my son? He's met him, is a big fan and has given me a bright green light to date this amazing man who is kind, intelligent, funny, witty, strong, steadfast, sweet and gentlemanly. 

If you had told me at Christmas that I'd have a very special Valentine, I would never have believed it. But here I am, feeling like a teenager again in so many ways and yet feeling strongly that after 48 years on this earth, I may have found the best person in the world and it sure feels like God smiled on us. 


​

March 3, 2006. It was a Friday. I went into the hospital a wife, daughter and a woman. I left as a mom to a tiny 4 pound, 6 ounce baby girl. We named her Isabella Grace. We always intended to call her Bella. She was delicate, beautiful and and so incredibly vulnerable. Instantly, she was the light of my life. I never could have dreamed that she would teach me the most important lessons life has to offer. Some of them are listed below. 

There are no promises in life. Your life plans don't always match your reality. It's often out of your control. 
Parenthood brings joy that knows no bounds but it also can shatter your heart and shake you to the core.
Being a parent to a child with special needs and complex medical conditions shows you resiliency you never know existed. 
A child's intense work toward delayed milestones is a privilege to behold. I stood in awe. I bow to her tenacity. 
Parenting makes you love fiercely and instantly with no conditions or expectations.
Being Bella's mom required me to advocate for her each day, fight hard and stop at nothing to be sure she had what she needed. 
I learned that physical, occupational, speech therapists and special education teachers are superheroes. 
I learned to tell doctors to do more, work harder, find answers, and think beyond the boundaries of their abilities. 
We became super nimble. Plans changed instantly on a daily basis when seizures or sickness reared its head.
We could troubleshoot in the most creative of ways.
We learned to pray fervently that she would live, thrive and be happy.
We stopped at nothing to keep her healthy. 
We held her close and treasured every moment because tomorrow is not promised to us (we just think it is). 
And just shy of 7 years later, the hardest lesson was learned: Loving your child sometimes means you must let her go. In this case, Bella's bones and lungs would not heal and it was time for her to go to Heaven.
And another lesson - In the midst of terrible sadness and pain, miracles occur.

It took years for me to heal from her death. I didn't just lose her. I had to let her go. I had to make the decision and take the action to let her leave this earth and go to Heaven and shepherd her through that process by holding her for hours before and after she passed away. It was the most excruciating parental task I could ever undertake. It still haunts me but I have come to terms with it and I no longer feel guilty for letting the doctors turn her oxygen off so she could go to Heaven.  

This year Bella would have turned 12. She has been in Heaven as long as she was on earth. My nephew wanted to talk to my son about her birthday tonight and how she is celebrating in Heaven. My son sighed and said, "I'm just not ready to talk about it today. It makes me sad." My nephew said, "Don't let it make you sad. Let's celebrate her life." 

My nephew always cuts to the chase with the most honest, innocent statements. Yes, let's celebrate her life. We miss her every day and especially on these special days of hers. She was a darling, lovable, beautiful child who touched hundreds of people in her all too brief life. She was always up for hugs, kisses, cuddles and laughs. On the worst day, you could depend on Bella to bring joy to your heart. She's in a wonderful place full of love and free of pain. I am ever grateful that I was the one who received the gift of being her mother. I would do it all over again. She was my firstborn, my only girl and my dream come true. 

Happy birthday Bella. We love and miss you. 

Mother Theresa said, "Some people come into your life as blessings. Others are lessons."

And Sting said, "How could it be that what you need the most could leave you feeling just like a ghost?"

And Mick Jagger said, "You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes you just might find...you get what you need."

I recently had the experience of learning that one of the people I treasured most in this world was not who I thought. It shakes you to the core and leaves you wondering -- in the future, how do I see this more clearly? 

It wasn't what I wanted. But it was what I needed. 

Life is funny that way. 

This summer has been one of the most challenging ever. As I have been working my way out of the sadness that Bella's death brought, I got stuck. It's been 4 1/2 years now and in May a life event catapulted me out of what I now see was a semi-permanent funk. As difficult as it has been, I am grateful for it. I didn't realize how much life I had been missing. 

So, emerging from a long state of sadness where you lost your energy, your will power, your social nature and your...self, has consequences. This summer has been one of intense reflection and realization. As I have focused inward on myself, my son and work (the basic survival must haves), I neglected things that were extremely important to me. In no particular order, my health, my friends and my loved ones. I just put them on autopilot for years and I have had to take a hard look at what that means now. 

The friends, gratefully, are the easiest place to reconnect. Friends are truly amazing gifts. Mine just welcome me in and out whenever I need them. But I find myself in a different place now that our kids are not babies. The friends I like to hang out with are really hard to schedule. They have multiple kids who are all involved with sports and are busy all the time. I need to really amp up my diligence in reaching out to them and scheduling time. And I need to make new ones who aren't as busy and can hang out on weekends when my son is with his dad. 

So, with wisdom and experience in my rear view mirror, we are forging ahead with fresh eyes and hearts. I feel like Sleeping Beauty waking up again after years of being in an emotional coma. I feel alive again. Things hurt deeply again. I can get excited about life again. In a way it feels good -- these emotions make me feel alive in a way I haven't in years. And I know there is joy on the horizon. And for the first time, I do not feel guilty about being alive and happy. For the longest time I felt like I shouldn't feel happy without Bella. Now, I have peace that I should be happy and can be happy and most of all...she would want me to be happy. 

The pain of losing her will always be there. But it's a pain that is born of deep unconditional love that a mother has for her child. And it is sacred to me. It is all I have left of her. But it shouldn't overshadow all that is left in life. That's a huge step to realize that I can always miss her and still be alive and happy. 

I have so much to be grateful for including this painful summer which has brought self-improvement in so many ways. I am grateful for those who have loved me through Bella's life and death and have patiently waited as I wasn't the best version of myself. I am grateful to God and for spiritual growth. And I am grateful for my son, who is blossoming into such a lovely, fun, energetic boy who will enter fourth grade in one week from tomorrow. 

I may, finally, be finding the new version of myself and all that it brings. I am stepping back into life to welcome whatever comes next with a vulnerable, open heart and a brave soul that has lived through a tragedy, learned from it, and is ready to move forward. I survived it. It was messy, full of mistakes and often lacking in grace - but I made it through to the other side with a happy son, a faithful dog, and loved ones and friends who mean the world to me. 

The promise of a brand new year brings so much renewal and optimism. How do you make that feeling last beyond the doldrums of January?

I always make resolutions that are typically abandoned before Valentine's Day. Mine usually revolve around weight (loss) or exercise. I have an unused treadmill and a half eaten bag of chips to demonstrate my success on these goals.

In 2015 I made one resolution only and I kept it!. The difference was I chose something I really wanted to do – see my sister and her kids more. Guess what? I kept that resolution. She helped me. We visited six times and vacationed together. It was amazing and it brought me, my sister and our children so much joy.

JOY.

Maybe that’s the secret? Choose something that brings you joy. Cutting out sugar entirely and running 3 miles a day are things I need to do, but they don’t bring me joy. Health, yes. Joy, no.

I like setting a goal. I want to have faith in positive change for myself – and the world. Last year’s resolution was something that would bring me undeniable happiness and unforgettable moments.

For 2016. I chose a few resolutions that should bring me joy and fit into my daily life.

Call my relatives more often and challenge them to call me more too. Since Bella died, I have been in my protective cocoon. I need to emerge. Family is important to me and I want them to know that.

Connect with a friend (one I don’t see every day) at least once a week. I get caught up in the daily grind and I don't plan outings in advance. I miss them. Since we are all busy, the goal is to connect via any form: a meaningful email, a call, maybe a visit if I’m really on my game. I should be able to achieve this one.

Read the Bible and discuss it with some female friends. Since Bella died, my faith has brought great comfort to my soul. Yet, I am not educated in my faith. I am hoping that reading the Bible brings me joy, knowledge and a way to teach my child about our faith with more confidence than I currently have. I want to know more. I want to be closer to God. I downloaded an app to guide me and found a few people to join me.

Are New Year’s Resolutions important to you? Why? If you set resolutions this year, what were they? How do you plan to weave them into your life all year?

Life begins and life ends, and in the middle is a sweet spot of memories you make that you hold in your heart forever. If I am lucky, I am right in the middle of life now. I look at things differently and I value them differently as I move from decade to decade. The issue on my mind this week is the importance of grandparents in a child's life.

My son is on his annual trip to Grandparent Camp in the heart of Texas on my dad's ranch. Every year since he was an infant he goes to Texas in the summer and stays awhile. He absolutely loves it and it is a trip that we all treasure. It's good for everyone. My dad and stepmom treasure the time with him, he loves every minute of it and my fiancé and I enjoy the extra time for ourselves.

For my son, it's a chance to learn about nature and enjoy it. We no longer live in a world where your kid can run out the front door and play outside unsupervised for hours on end but at the ranch it is a mandatory activity. There are few pools you can find with diving boards these days but at the ranch you can cannon ball off of the diving board 80 times in a few hours. There are vegetables to harvest, hundreds of acres of land to water and animals to discover (Armadillos, axis deer, wild turkeys, owls, foxes, bats, skunks and rabbits all roam the land). There is a herd of longhorn cows to feed, rocks to throw in the Guadalupe River, weeds to pull, and tennis courts to ride your bikes on. In quieter moments he sits on dad's lap and just rests while watching hummingbirds after a long day of ranching. There are no iPad or game requests. There is no need for TV. He is way too obsessed with real life, old school style.

It's not just my son who reaps the benefits of these days. It's an incredible joy to see the effect this trip has on my dad. For a really long time my dad never aged. In recent years a few health issues have set in and though they are manageable it is a stark reminder of the preciousness of time. Nothing brings more joy to my dad than time with his grandchildren. My son, more than most of the kids who visit the ranch, wants to hang with my dad and be a ranch cowboy. They are summer sidekicks who work the ranch all day and that bond between them is one that I hope my son will always remember and treasure. The moments, captured in pictures like the one here, stop me in my tracks to consider the value of this time. I try to tattoo the memory in my heart and brain to help it remain fresh over the years.

Every year my dad and stepmom teach him things we need him to know. In past summers it was how to use the potty, how to ride a bike, and how to swim. This summer they are teaching him phone manners, keeping his emerging math and reading skills intact and sharing some basic lessons on how to drive the Mule (sort of like a golf cart that you drive around the ranch).

It's hard to get used to such a quiet house back at home. I miss him but there is no substitute for the kind of experience he is having with his grandfather on the ranch. And it's enormous fun to hear the stories of their ranch adventures and the things he is learning. Here's a snippet from last week:

"Mommy, we saw the baby calves today. We looked to see if they had weenies and one does! So that one is a boy. We saw the mommies feed the babies. I also saw a skunk spray but he didn't spray me. We did a rain dance and it worked. Last night it rained! I got to drive the Mule! Also, I saw an owl and a bat and I walked out on the porch and there was an axis deer RIGHT THERE!"

Such tales bring my heart joy and I can hear the sheer happiness in my dad and stepmom's voices. They teach him good manners and the importance of being a strong leader, following the rules and the importance of sticking to the rules that you know when you find yourself in a situation where the rules are unclear. They are building his character. In the summer before first grade, it's a critical time to understand these lessons.

As I have posted pictures I have received numerous messages about how lucky my son is to have a grandparent who is willing and able to spend this kind of time with him. That's very true. My son has seven grandparents. They all love him deeply and spend time with him. But there are limits to their time with him and the places they are able to experience. In my own life I had one grandparent, my Maw, who left a tremendous impact on me. She lived the longest and was more fun than the rest of my wonderful grandparents. When we were little we cried when she would leave. In later years she helped me understand and navigate life all of the time. We lost her in 2012. She died two days after I visited her with my children. It was as if she hung on long enough to say goodbye to us. I like to think of her and sweet Bella having tea parties in Heaven.

This week a dear friend lost her mother. All week I have thought of her and her children who are old enough to cherish a relationship with her and form lifelong memories with her. The love of a grandparent. is irreplaceable.  I'm always thankful for the gifts my son's grandparents give him but never more so than this week as I receive precious memories in the form of pictures and stories and as I talk to my son at night and cant get a word in edgewise because he has so much to share with me. In a week where one of your best friends is saying goodbye to her mother, it's impossible not to want to cling to these moments. As our parents age and become frail, we will someday care for them. In some cases we already are. One day we will have to say goodbye to them. In the meantime, one of the greatest gifts we can give our parents and our children is the benefit of being together and bringing joy and wisdom to each other. I'm not even offended that my presence in this picture is not needed. I know they love me and they will be excited to see me again. They're just having too much fun to miss me. And that is lovely.