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Three days before my dad died, I shared an image to Facebook that said: “In the blink of an eye everything can change. So forgive often and love with all your heart. You may not have that chance again.” At the time, I didn’t know how literal those words would become. That same day, I also posted an update thanking friends who had come to visit my dad. He was on hospice, and while the last few months had been filled with health challenges, we were taking things day by day. I a

On my wedding day, I wore a dress that already knew how to hold love. On September 11, 1941, my Grandma Lucille Anderson wore this same dress when she married. It had been stored carefully in a dress bag for 79 years, waiting quietly. The skirt is original. The history is intact. The love is unmistakable. Of course, some changes were needed. My amazing mom lovingly redesigned the top because I am not built quite like my Grams was. With the help of James’ mom, LynnPam, we adde

This weekend, I had the opportunity to set up a booth for The Caregiving Corner at the Senior Expo in Sandy, Utah, and I felt something simple but meaningful. Readiness. Seeing the name displayed, the table set, and the materials laid out reminded me why this work exists in the first place. Caregivers and seniors don’t always have the time or energy to go searching for support. Sometimes support needs to show up where they already are. That’s what this weekend was about. I lo

Today was about showing up and making support tangible. I spent the day at a Senior and Health Fair at Country Pines Retirement Community, alongside so many local businesses and organizations that genuinely care about serving our community. The goal was simple. Make resources easier to access and meet people where they are. There were medical supplies available, including walkers for seniors who need them. Watching families find what they’ve been searching for reminded me of

Caregiving doesn’t always begin slowly. Sometimes it begins in an instant. With a phone call. A headline. News so sudden and devastating that life immediately divides into before and after. Someone very dear to me experienced that kind of moment. My friend Melissa was seriously injured in a terrorist attack in London. Her husband, Kurt, did not survive. There are no words that make sense of loss like that. What can make a difference is what happens next. In the days that foll

I’m deeply grateful to be part of something that truly makes a difference. This year, I was appointed Historian and Photographer for the Utah Coalition for Caregiver Support, and I also help with social media for our Facebook page. It’s a role that allows me to document, share, and celebrate the meaningful work happening behind the scenes, while helping caregivers feel seen and included. What I love about this coalition is the heart behind it. The Utah Coalition for Caregiver

The past couple of years have felt bittersweet during the holidays. There is still gratitude, still tradition, still moments of joy. And there is also loss, change, and an awareness that things don’t look the way they once did. I’ve learned that both can exist together without needing to be fixed. One thing that continues to bring warmth to my heart is spending time with seniors, especially during this season. Recently, I visited a dear friend who is 94 years old, and every t

There are moments when you look at your life and think, Who knew I would be here? And then there are moments when the answer comes just as clearly. God knew. As I reflect on this season of my life, I feel deeply humbled and grateful. Not only for the good and beautiful moments, but also for the hard ones. The painful, heart-breaking experiences that I wouldn’t have chosen, yet somehow shaped me anyway. I’ve learned that growth doesn’t come neatly packaged. It often comes thro

My dear Uncle Lenzi passed away last Friday. He had a tough exterior. Anyone who met him might have noticed that first. But if you stayed long enough, if you paid attention, you could see what lived underneath. A big heart. A sharp sense of humor. A deep, steady kindness that didn’t need an audience. What I admired most about him was his devotion to his wife. For six years, she lived with Alzheimer’s. For much of that time, she no longer recognized him. And still, he showed u

This is my inspiration for giving back. My grandma. She is the reason this work lives in my heart the way it does. Caring for her changed me. It stretched me. It broke me open in ways I didn’t expect. And it taught me what caregiving really is, beyond tasks and schedules. Caregiving is love made visible. It’s patience when you’re tired. It’s showing up when no one is watching. It’s choosing compassion again and again, even when it costs you something. What I learned through c