there is always love

This year has been one of the hardest I can remember.

Two of our daughters have faced complicated pregnancies, each bringing tiny, beautiful preemie babies into the world. We’ve spent long nights praying, waiting, and learning that strength can be found in the smallest moments including the hum of hospital machines, in the softness of a baby’s hand, in love that never wavers.

The last few years we’ve also been caring for my father-in-law. Most recently and more seriously through a series of hospitalizations -five in seven months, until his passing this past Friday. Watching someone you love decline is one of life’s most painful lessons in presence. We did our best to make his final months filled with dignity, comfort, and love, even when the days felt incredibly heavy.

But there is always hope.

There is always love.

Somewhere in the midst of the challenges, a quiet sign appeared. My sister had come to the hospital to be with us on one of those really hard days – the kind where your heart feels stretched too thin. As she parked, she noticed a familiar image on a bumper: one of my own stickers; a heart I painted with a peace sign in the center.

That simple sight stopped me in my tracks. It felt like the universe whispering back: You are seen. You are supported. Keep going.

That little heart symbolized everything I needed at that moment – peace in the midst of pain, connection through creativity, and the reminder that something I made, born of love, found its way into the world and came back to comfort me when I needed it most.

This year has stripped away all illusion of control, but it has also deepened my faith in love, in art, and in the quiet ways the universe holds us when we can’t hold ourselves.

As life begins to find its new rhythm, I will slowly be returning to my work – creating, painting, and reconnecting with the heart of why I began all this in the first place. There’s healing in the act of creating, and I’m grateful to step back into that space again, carrying the lessons and love this year has taught me.

If this year has been heavy for you too, I see you. Let’s hold space for each other and keep finding small ways to celebrate the good -even when it’s quiet and fragile.

Sending you so much love,

Susan