This Thanksgiving, I’m approaching the season with a quieter, deeper kind of gratitude.
Life has been moving quickly — we’ve been growing our team, expanding our programs, and reaching more families than ever before. We are just completing a major clinic expansion, more than doubling our space to welcome new programs, create a gross motor room, and serve our community in even more meaningful ways. It’s been exciting and energizing, but also humbling. And then, in the midst of all that momentum, life reminded me to pause.
My mom had a nasty fall. It happened so suddenly — one moment she was fine, and the next, everything shifted. In that moment, I was reminded of how fragile and precious life really is. I’ve been lucky to have my parents with me for nearly 60 years. Losing my dad two years ago was already a reminder that our time together is never guaranteed.
This fall, life gave me a striking contrast: while my mom was navigating the slow, painful recovery from her injury, my niece was getting married — full of light, laughter, and new beginnings. Joy and worry, celebration and concern, all living side by side. That’s what this season has been for me — a time of holding both.
And through it all, I’ve felt a wave of gratitude — not loud or flashy, but rooted and real. I’m grateful for my mom’s quiet strength. She was raised in a generation where women had fewer choices, and yet she carved out a life full of resilience and resourcefulness. Her example gave me permission to follow my own path and build the kind of work that matters.
I’m grateful for our Mind 2 Heart team — a group of compassionate, thoughtful people who support not just the families we serve, but one another. I’m thankful for the children, youth, and adults who trust us with their stories and allow us to walk beside them through pain and growth.
And of course, I’m grateful for my family — the ones who’ve stood by me, believed in me, and given me a place to land when I’m tired. Their love makes all of this possible.
This Thanksgiving, I’m holding space for all of it — the joy, the grief, the transitions, and the small quiet moments in between. Wishing you a season filled with connection, softness, and gratitude that lingers.
