Welcome. This is my virtual front porch—I’m glad you stopped by for a visit. Come on in. Sit for a moment.
I’m not sure what brought you here, but I had to ask myself the same question you might be asking now:
Why would someone want to spend time here?
I created this space as a place to reflect, and to share a bit of my journey that might be of value. My hope is that those who stay for a moment find something to take away that makes a difference.
What started as a way to make sense of my own life became Morning Cuppa Joy, a weekly reflection on being human—on love, loss, and the beauty that still finds its way into our days.
This site is a place where those reflections live, alongside the deeper journey of From Grief to Grace—for those who find themselves walking through loss and looking for a way to carry both sorrow and joy.
It has also become a place that honors my son Michael—his life, his music, and the ways he continues to make his own contributions.
This is where I share that journey—not as answers, but as reflections. A place to pause, to notice, and perhaps to recognize something of your own life along the way.
Lately, I’ve found myself thinking more about where I stand in the arc of a lifetime.
I’m on the very tip of the Baby Boomer generation. It gives me a bit of a sneak preview of what’s coming. Boomers are aging—some of us are turning 80, others stepping into their 70s and 60s. Being on the “leading edge” does offer a certain perspective.
There’s a saying I’ve always liked—today is the oldest I’ve ever been and the youngest I’ll ever be. I don’t know who said it, but it feels especially true now.
There’s something about turning 80 that surprised me. I’m sure I’m not alone.
Reaching this decade stirred something in me—a desire to gather the pieces of my life that have been scattered across time and place. Bits and pieces living on the internet, in social media posts, in journals, in books I’ve written, and in the many lives I’ve lived along the way.
Part of it is practical. There’s a quiet urge to begin sorting through what I’ve accumulated—so that someday, when I shuffle off this mortal coil, my sons won’t be left with an overwhelming task of sorting and tossing. (Though I’m sure I’ll still leave them a few things to deal with.)
But it’s more than that.
There’s also a desire to gather the intangible pieces—the memories, the reflections, the lessons, the questions, the moments that have shaped me.
Perhaps it will become a memoir.
For now, it has become this.
A place to bring together what I’ve been up to—what I’ve been learning, noticing, writing, and wondering about—into one space.
And, in these later years, something else has quietly reawakened—my love of creating. I’m no Grandma Moses, but love making stuffed animals and cloth dolls, crocheting items to give away, working with my hands in ways that feel both simple and deeply satisfying. There’s something about creating that feels life-giving, and I’ve come to believe it plays its own role in how we continue to grow and stay connected.
You are welcome here—wherever you find yourself.
If something here speaks to you, you’re always welcome to reach out. I read every message sent, and I hold those connections with care.