healing

When Did We Stop Listening?

I almost never watch the news. Honestly, I can’t stand it.

But this week, during an hour-long nail appointment, the television was on. In that short time, I heard stories of a shooting at an ICE facility in Dallas, a semi-truck being pursued by police in Anaheim, and a stabbing at a school on the East Coast. And of course, you’d have to be living under a rock not to have heard about the Charlie Kirk shooting.

It struck me how much heaviness, violence, and grief can fill just sixty minutes of airtime. For me, that’s exactly why I usually avoid tuning in. Still, the stories linger, and they’ve left me chewing on something deeper: when did we stop listening?

Over the last twenty plus years, we’ve gotten very good at talking. With social media, 24-hour news, and endless platforms, everyone has a microphone, and everyone wants to be heard. But somewhere along the way, listening seems to have fallen out of practice.

When did we stop breaking bread with friends and neighbors and really trying to put ourselves in someone else’s shoes? Right, left, polka dot, or rainbow—it doesn’t matter the label. When did our brains stop stretching to see the world from another vantage point? When did the sound of our individual voices grow louder than the sound of voices bonded together—as Americans, as human beings, as family by blood or by choice?

Lately, I’ve struggled most with understanding the tragedy around Charlie Kirk. The things I’ve learned about him since his death make me wish I’d paid more attention before. But more than that, I keep coming back to his widow. Watching her carry herself with such strength in public, knowing the depth of pain and grief she must be enduring, moves me deeply. I imagine how all she must want is to pull the covers over her head and wish it all away.

And I find myself asking: when did the world become a place where taking another person’s life was seen as an acceptable way of dealing with conflict? When did celebrating the loss of someone’s husband and father become okay?

Maybe it’s age. Maybe it’s the season of life I’m in. But I feel like I see things through different glasses now. I long for a time when I could keep my babies close and not have to trust this cruel world to spare them. These days, my heart aches as I wonder where all of this is headed.

I don’t have tidy answers. But I do know this: the more cruelty I see, the more convinced I become that compassion is the only way forward. Listening doesn’t mean agreeing. It doesn’t mean silencing your own beliefs. It means making space, honoring another perspective, and remembering that life is fragile, sacred, and shared.

Maybe the first step is simple. Notice how much we talk. Notice how little we listen. And choose, in small ways, to listen again.

Because the sound of voices joined together—not in anger, not in argument, but in genuine listening—is still one of the most powerful sounds in the world.

Blessings Y’all. Pray for each other and our country.

Amy

At The Intersection of Joy & Grief

I made a decision about a month or so ago that I was slowly going to come off the anti-depressants I’ve been on since PawPaw died. That we maxed out after Fred died and had to change completely during COVID because they weren’t working. I’ve reached a chapter in my life where I have such a strong support system and I’ve done so much work in counseling I felt like it was time.

But it’s that time of year again. The month or so I spend holding my breath each day as I open TimeHop and each time I talk to my kids. The memories of him that are in my oldest daughter’s smile, in my son’s laugh, or in my youngest daughter’s tender heart. The anniversary of Fred’s passing is today and, as this new season of my life progresses, the time of year I am so besieged with emotions I can barely sort them.

Guilt is constant because I have found joy again. I wouldn’t ever want the kids to think I’ve forgotten the life we had with their dad. Yet I made a promise to Fred that I wouldn’t be sad too long and that I would marry again. Grief because no matter what I still miss him. Confusion over missing him when I have a man in my life now that loves me to a depth that is indescribable. Sadness because he’s missing out on momentous occasions in my children’s lives. Our first grandchild will make an appearance in September and I know his presence will be missed even more than it already is.

I know that it’s been long enough since he’s been gone that most days I choose joy. I choose to thank God each morning when I do my prayers for the life I have now and the blessings he’s given me. On days like today I feel like I’m standing at an intersection of joy and grief and while I know I need to choose joy more today than any other day the sadness of grief is so deep it’s hard not to give in to it.

Trying to focus on joy I think back to that last “perfect” Lanford Saturday we shared with Fred. It was May 20, 2017 and Fred had been home from the hospital for about a month. It was one of those days where none of us could sit still and were so joyous from having gotten Fred through rehab and home that we just wanted to be out in the world. It was still spring and the weather was gorgeous. We spend the day doing some of our most favorite things. We went to Grapevine and had wine and snacks on Main Street. It was Main Street days in downtown Grapevine and we wandered around different booths for quite a while. The kids each got to have a cast made of their hand holding their dads. Something we didn’t know how very soon would be an irreplaceable treasure from the day. We finished in Grapevine around 3 pm and by 6 pm were back out headed to go see live music at The Truck Yard. With Tigre in tow.

Those are the days I look back on and remember how very much he lived during his time on earth. Those are the days I hope bring a smile to each of my kids when they are sad. And that is the Fred I remember with a heavy heart on the days I am sad. He was a good man. He gave me my family and for that I will forever be grateful.

If you have a favorite Fred memory I’d love to hear it today.

Blessings – Amy

A Little News and a Lot of Anxiety

Twenty plus years ago I was told I had Hashimoto’s. All I remember a the time was being told it was an autoimmune disorder and that I needed to make sure we kept my thyroid levels in balance. Given that I’ve been on thyroid medicine since about four months after Em was born didn’t seem life altering.

What I didn’t know over the ensuing twenty years of fighting to keep my thyroid levels stable through insurance insisting on generic thyroid medicine my body didn’t respond to (and being told I was crazy because I thought that), ups and downs in my levels due to weight gain and loss, hair loss, dry skin, and just general life was that that diagnosis meant my body was attacking itself and slowly killing off my thyroid.

In December of 2022 my company changed insurance companies. What ensued was the gluten free thyroid medicine I had finally gotten stable on for almost five years no longer being an approved medicine. Being shoved onto generic thyroid hormone that sent my body into a cycle of weight gain, hair loss, and general yuck. When Tim and I got married he did the research and we figured out how to go back to the right medicine albeit it of pocket. Though that was fall of 2023 we’ve fought all this time to get my thyroid to stabilize. Finally in February after another off kilter set of labs my GYN said “you have to see an endocrinologist”. Back story there – I hate endocrinologists. Between the fact that they are insanely smart humans usually who don’t know how to relate to you and listen to you when you talk and the one that prescribed Fred medicine and didn’t follow up on him thus leading to his kidney failure I’ve got no patience for them. My GP and GYN have managed my thyroid for years.

I procrastinated until end of February and finally got a referral sent to Tim’s endocrinologist. The ONE I actually like cause he listens to Tim and isn’t a condescending human. We expected it to be months before I could get in and after ten days without a phone call was surprised to finally get one Monday – with an opening the next day. Still calling that a God thing.

Dr. Burney walked in, sat down, and said tell me what’s up with your thyroid. IMMEDIATELY went to food…doctors don’t do that…and explained that Hashi’s patients can’t eat gluten. It inflames the gut and limits the absorption of the medicine. Do you know how many other docs had dismissed my saying I noticed a difference when I didn’t eat gluten even though I was negative for Celiac???

First change he made was saying from here on out it’s a strict gluten free diet. Also an unprocessed chemical free (whole foods) as much as possible. Hashi’s patients bodies attack foreign stuff and get inflamed and that prevents absorption of the medicine. Next up is continuing with getting some more of the weight off. The goal is to get me to ONE pill a day of the thyroid medicine so that if I’m going to pay for it out of pocket it’s not three boxes every six weeks to the tune of $185.

Then he took a look at my thyroid. It’s dead and gone. Shriveled up and fibrotic. The out of control Hashi’s has done its thing and I’ll be on the hormone therapy the rest of my life. As it has sunk it that how I feel will be a direct correlation to how I take care of myself for the rest of my life the more overwhelmed I’ve felt. Those close to me can tell you – the one thing I am worst at is taking care of me. And there is something different between choosing gluten free and being told it’s not an option anymore. As much as we travel it makes it a challenge.

I’m still exhausted, still have very little energy, and that’s as much mental exhaustion as it is physical. I have so much I want to do and right now nothing is cooperating. I am trying to lean into the amazing support that my hubby and kids are being but it’s hard. I am also angry. The ONE thyroid medicine most effective for Hashi’s patients most insurance companies don’t like and thus won’t pay for. To me that’s like saying you won’t pay for insulin for a diabetic. How dare you? Who made them God? It’s maddening.

If anyone with Hashi’s is reading this – your diet is as important as the medicine. You have more control than just the medicine. Take control and keep your thyroid functioning as long as you can.

Blessings y’all – Amy

Medical Madness

I grew up in the medical system. For those that don’t know this about me I was born with a birth defect that meant I had my first corrective surgery at 3 months old and my 50th right before my 18th birthday. There have been a few others since then but the bulk were in my childhood. I’ve depended on doctors and medicine my entire life. Honestly never was taught to question them or their orders.

As I have grown older and run into periods where I suffered consequences of some of those orders I’ve begun to wonder if the doctor is always right. For example when I received the COVID vaccine and subsequently suffered through 3 months of full body hives that the doctors swore couldn’t possibly be a side effect of the vaccine I was itchy, angry, and pretty sure the medical community was full of morons.

I find myself sort of here again. My middle child and his wife question EVERYTHING. As I ask questions and find myself dissatisfied with the side effects of multiple rounds of antibiotics and steroids I grow increasingly more curious about their perspective on things. And how to balance that with conditions I have like Hashimoto’s and hypothyroidism. And dysfunctional ears and sinuses that periodically, like now, just flat refuse to cooperate.

I left on vacation with an ear infection. My second in a month. Though I completed a full ten day round of antibiotics while on my trip I came back with a double middle ear infection, RSV, and a sinus infection. Was put on a different round of antibiotics when I got home, given a steroid shot, and oral steroids. The antibiotics have upset my gut. The oral steroids keep me up at night and make me angry at everything and everyone. I’m sleep deprived and cranky. By now I should be getting better but woke up with the room spinning. Like WTF.

Where is that line that we trust doctors or we say nope this isn’t working and I have to try something else? How does someone like me with all kinds of complications wean myself off of depending on doctors? One of the things pressing on my mind is the shingles vaccine. I’m not quite at the age for it yet but I had HORRIBLE chicken pox as a kid and I’m a prime candidate for shingles. But after the reaction I had to the last vaccine I let someone put in me why on earth would I sign up for another? But I know from seeing people around me go through shingles that those can be excruciating too. Which is worse?

And even if I did figure any of it out and think I have a plan then the damn insurance company would weigh in and say NOPE you can’t have that drug. Perfect example is my thyroid medicine. I was stable on one drug for over five years. But my insurance changed and they wouldn’t cover it. My body doesn’t respond to the one they do cover and even though we switched me back to the good one by paying out of pocket for it it’s now two years later and we still haven’t gotten my thyroid back under control from having been off it for 9 months. Why the hell does insurance get to dictate what we take if patient and doctor have determined that one medically won’t work?

It’s all madness. Just fiscally driven madness where money is most important and we are secondary. There’s my brain dump for the day. 😉

Blessings y’all. – A

Another Goodbye, A Closing, and A New Year

This one has been bouncing around in my brain the last few weeks and I’ve been trying to sort through so many emotions. Figure I’ll sort it out here like I always do lol. The Irving house finally found its new owners. About a week ago another tumor took our sweet Paris. And inexplicably a new year is upon us.

We signed the papers on the Irving house four years to the day of when I unpacked the last box, hung the last picture, and posted the before and after video of the renovation from moving into Turtle Summit. Funny sometimes how God’s timing works. I’ve been trying to put my mind around the emotions there, cause there are some, but can’t quite get there. When I reflect back on who I was then…man.

Four years ago I was so angry. So tired. So overwhelmed. So afraid. If I dared to crack open one of my prayer journals I can almost promise you those prayers read something like “give me my life back” or “rewind the clock”. My children were leaving home, my husband was gone, and I had absolutely no idea who I was. And quite frankly I was crazy. Out of my mind flipping crazy. I look back on that person and wonder where she came from and thank God every day that he put the right tools and people in my path to get me through.

As I look around today? My list of blessings is as overwhelming as that list of pain and sorrow was. A home I never could have dreamed this small town girl would ever have. A man I adore who loves me beyond measure. A job that challenges me and pushes me to keep growing even when I’d like a minute to breathe.

Last weekend we said goodbye to another of our fur babies. She was older but we weren’t ready. She had a tumor in her ear that they couldn’t promise us wasn’t in her brain. She was in pain and not herself. We kept the promise we made each other not to prolong our babies lives for our own inability to say goodbye. But less than three months after losing Hope it just made the grief hole rip open again. The energy in the house has shifted again and the three remaining girls are tying to find a new rhythm. They are very clingy to us and hate when we leave the house.

Tim and I’s word for 2025 is “intentional”. So often we find ourselves at the end of a week, month, or year having just responded to all that came at us instead of acting intentionally towards our goals. We want to work on the goals we have set and live life on our terms. I think some of that is a result of seeing what we accomplished when we set our mind to it with the house. Not sure. We just know that as we heal from some of what 2024 took from us and embrace some of what it gave us we have big plans.

I am waking up at night with my mind and my heart racing. Anxiety coursing through me that I can’t identify. I thought it was the house. But with that settled not sure what it is. Work is out of control busy so maybe it’s that. But I know that if I turn it over to God and just lift it in prayer it’ll resolve itself in time. Just takes the one thing hardest for me – faith.

What are you reflecting on in as we close out 2024?

—Amy

Reflections on a Holiday Season

Another Christmas Eve is here. As I sit and reflect on how this year’s holiday season has gone I realize progress was made this year. For the first time in years Christmas wasn’t something just to be survived and gotten through!

I’ve spent numerous of the years past turning myself inside out trying to survive the holidays. That or exhausting myself alternating between trying to avoid them wishing away pain and memories or trying to make them perfect. Somehow this year in just letting go it was actually a very enjoyable season.

Did I get Christmas cards out this year? Nope. Get everything on the list of things I wanted to get for people I love? Not even close. Did I find a new favorite Christmas album that I wore out every commute back and forth to work for a month? Yep. (Thank you Cher.) Bake cookies and treats until I was exhausted but happy? Yep.

Tomorrow we are shucking the traditional Christmas menu and replacing it with tamales (brought in through contacts at work) and easy sides. No 5 am turkey shenanigans for me. Short of jumping on a ship I don’t remember another year we’ve dropped traditional Christmas dinner. What’s more? Everyone is pretty darn excited about it!

2024 was a year of huge changes. If you had asked me at this time last year if I’d be living anywhere other than Irving where I’d spent the last 20 years I’d have told you that you were smoking something. But if this year has taught me anything it’s that unlike what life has shown me the last decade or so change can also be good. So I guess it shouldn’t really surprise me that Christmas this year would be different! 🎄

Merry Christmas y’all!

Amy

Fearful and Fretful

Can you remember a single “ah ha” moment when you realized that life was happening to you instead of you being in control of your future? I haven’t had a lot of those but there are times God takes out a billboard in my face to make sure I don’t miss it.

All around me people I love are struggling. Some with the pain of recent loss of loved ones. Family with new challenges that are unfamiliar and uncomfortable. Others still facing the same old cycle of anxiety and depression kicking their butt. It is my habit to take on these emotions and let them guide me to a place that isn’t healthy for me while I attempt to make sure people I love and hold dear are “ok”.

I was programmed from a very very early age that my role was to take care of others. As I look back on the last couple of weeks through the filter of seeing myself in others’ eyes I have realized that I’ve mistaken fear for selflessness. It’s been EASIER to live a life taking care of others than it has been to push myself out of my comfort zone. It’s been EASIER to base my decisions on where I presume I am most needed instead of what is best for me.

My counselor says F.E.A.R. means “False Evidence Appearing Real”. How easy it is to convince myself I “have” to do something because I’m needed, the only person who can do it, blah blah blah. The evidence is that those around me would get by without my help. Perhaps even stand stronger if I’d stop trying to do it for them. How easy it is to let fear allow me to put what I need or know will make me happy on the back burner so someone I care about can be.

Tim and I are have some major life decisions in front of us. I’m paralyzed with fear over them. Dumbfounded by how much the childhood mantra I live with is playing in my head – you don’t deserve that, you aren’t good enough for that, you can’t do that. It’s cast a giant light over my life as a whole (maybe this is a mid-life crisis?) and I don’t like what I see. Fear has guided too many of my decisions and kept me in the survivor role instead of the drivers seat. I so badly want to change that….

Anyway, I’m rambling. The message here is focus on life and not the fear. The fear will always be there – how much control I give the fear and the fretting is only determined by me. It is such a hard habit to break…but I am determined. Mostly. If my body would cooperate that would be fabulous – panic attacks that leave me on the bathroom floor aren’t so fun.

What decisions in your life have you looked back and realized were only fear based?

Blessings Y’all – Amy

When Did It Change?

There was a time in my life I would have said I thrived on succeeding under pressure. Grandpa in the hospital? I’d put my head down and do anything I could to handle it for my grandma. Husband in kidney failure? Me again. I don’t need any help – I’ve got this. World off it’s axis at work due to it being the busy season? Sign me up. You can count on me and I won’t let you down no matter what.

My counselor says it’s cause I had to learn how to survive at a young age. But also that it is driven by an obsessive need to prove myself good enough. Good enough for who? No idea. But we’ve come to the conclusion it drives me in everything I do. And I use the word drives because it’s currently driving me off the cliff in terms of my health. So when did that rock solid ability to handle anything start to change? When did my body start to rebel and my mind sit and spin at night? Hours and hours of tossing and turning and having conversations in my mind about how I would’ve, should’ve, or could’ve handled something. When did I become unable to rearrange the living room without validation from an outside source that it looked okay for Pete’s sake? I can’t even pray without wondering if I’m “doing it right”.

My best guess would be when my world upended a few years ago and I looked around. (Reality is it’s probably part of aging.) No one needs me anymore. Not in the protect me from the storm put food in my belly and a roof over my head kind of way. I ceased being a wife when Fred died and I got downgraded in the mom department when the kids grew up. With that came the absolutely mind bending truth that I had no idea who I was outside of those things. A realization I’m guessing most women come to at some point but still. That period in my life drove me to my counselor and the things we have unlocked have made it difficult to go back.

These days the doctors are working tirelessly to figure out why I can’t sleep. Why the weight has not crept back on but leaped back onto my body. Why I ache in my shoulders, neck, and back constantly. Food sensitivity tests, genetic tests, blood work, you name it. I’m being asked to invest time in myself. To “let go” more. How does one do that? How does a stress addicted workaholic with a need to prove herself to anyone and everyone do that exactly? Question of the day right there….

I find myself wondering what life will look like in 5, 10, or 20 years. Am I prematurely aging myself because I can’t rewire 40 year old programming? Am I working to live or living to work? Can I really see myself retiring and not facing the grind everyday? Are we doing all the things we should be doing to get ourselves where we want to be in the next few years? Geez – I’m even starting to give you an example of the hamster wheel in my brain.

I have the surreal moments these days where I look at my life from a 30,000 foot view and can’t find the words to tell my kids how proud I am of them. To tell my husband how lost I would be without him. To allow myself to fully lean in on him (or anyone) and just let them carry me for a little while. When did being able to survive massive doses of the crap life deals out become debilitating instead?

The short answer is I don’t have any answers to any of these questions. I suspect there are women (and men) out there who can relate. For now I just keep plugging at the tasks the counselor and my doctors have given me hoping that some or all of it changes before too much more damage is done. I feel like an imposter going through the motions of life instead of being able to sink in and enjoy the beautiful things God has given me.

If you can relate, shoot me a note. If you have advice, I’d love to hear it. Words of encouragement that this is all temporary? Bring it on.

Blessings Y’all – Amy

Real Effects of Stress

Ever had your mind spin so much when you lay down at night that, despite complete exhaustion, sleep eludes you? How about a jaw ache from clenching your teeth subconsciously for days on end? Dry skin, thyroid completely blown out of whack, digestion a joke, tension headaches, and a masseuse unable to relax the knots in your neck, lower back, and calves? How about massive weight gain despite very little of what you eat sticking with you? Tears that flow without warning and the inability to make decisions that previously you wouldn’t have even had to think about?

I wouldn’t say I am under much more stress than I ever have been in various times in my career but something about getting older (or maybe living with someone who points out what’s broken) is giving me fits. When I started to resent the effort it took to prepare to travel and recover from travel we knew we had an issue to address. We’ve been meeting with different doctors now for a few weeks and have some plans in place but at the moment my body is still being uncooperative.

For the first time in a long time this last week I napped. More than once. I had a couple of nights where I actually achieved 6-7 hours of sleep (my average is 3-5). My jaw stopped aching and I was able to say “I want to do that” not “we can do whatever you/they want”. As we got closer to returning to land the restless broken sleep returned and the jaw ache returned. So my options are to move out onto a body of water (!) or figure out how to better process and handle stress.

Seeing a break in the physical symptoms of stress has made them so much larger than they have been in the past to me. As a survivor, both from a birth defect that left me in and out of hospitals my entire life, to an abusive childhood, to being a widow at a too young age I barely recognize anymore what my brain does to be body. It’s just part of life.

Apparently…that is wrong thinking. I have four great doctors in my corner now that are determined we will turn this ship around. Tests show I have Hashimoto’s and my thyroid is not getting enough medicine (which makes sense when you have a stomachache 5 mornings out of 7). Armed with a supportive husband wiling to try anything – including sleeping with music on and a diffuser going – to help me sleep we’re working on sleep hygiene. TV being off and phones put down a few hours before bed. Taking a sleep apnea test next week to make sure I’m getting enough air. And as much as I love reading I have to switch to a) doing it with a real book not a screen at night and b) not doing it while I eat.

We are going to have to do an elimination diet to figure out what else besides gluten has my stomach so PO’d since the gastro dr ruled out anything other than what we already know I have. That will be harder on my husband than me because it involves lot more restrictions than he already endures with his diabetes. Did I mention he hates veggies? Together we’ve decided to focus on sleep first then add this next layer.

Both Tim and I have adapted the “whatever it takes” mentality. We are less than a decade from retirement (we hope) and for me to enjoy the post working years I have to be healthy. I have to learn to prioritize a work life balance. To take ten minutes in the morning to wash my face or pack a healthy meal for lunch. To take moments during the day to practice the meditation exercises both the doctor and my counselor have given me. To silence the constant barrage in my head of did I do enough, work hard enough, or am I enough? To find the ability to say “NO”.

I suspect it also means a ramp up on my writing as I find it very therapeutic. But I am going to maintain my “when I feel called to write” mentality instead of my “have to” list. I have been promised that with sleep will come energy and mental clarity. With energy will come exercise and enthusiasm for my garden, my home, and my cooking again.

If you have any yoga or meditations apps/programs you recommend send them my way. And all the prayers you can spare.

Blessings y’all – Amy

Balance or Boundaries?

This is a topic we have been exploring in counseling the last couple of visits and one I’ve taken my time with my thoughts before putting it here. Anyone who knows me I struggle with giving anything less than 1000% to everything – almost always at my own detriment. Work is a perfect example. When the counselor found out that I come home, after working all day, and the first thing I do is check my work email when I walk in the door it was a red flag. Same with being tied to the phone over the weekend and when on vacation. I have an unhealthy obsession with email. There. I said it. And coming to terms with that has taken more work than I ever thought it could.

“You can’t have balance without boundaries but you can have boundaries and still be out of balance.”

Let that just sit there for a minute and marinate. What is balance in today’s world? Where is the line between a healthy balance and the attitude of “not my job”? I’m old school – the “40 hours and that’s it” or “not my job” attitude that is so prevalent in most work places makes me slightly insane. Yet – do those people have it right as far as having a healthy work life balance? Is it either black and white or is there a lot of gray somewhere between?

I’ve recently changed my work schedule to allow Tim and I an extra 45 minutes before the alarm goes off. I’ve been at it for three weeks and it still feels like I’m doing something wrong. Like that 45 minutes is shorting work somewhere along the way. And being honest I’ve already slipped into not being as diligent with my end of day out time. But that guilt is still present.

Jumping off of work for a second – what about in relationships? Extracurricular activities? It’s interesting looking back on the kids’ childhood in that light. It came very easily to Fred and I to put boundaries on family time and not fall into the club sports/insane schedule lifestyle that rules so many families today. We felt strongly that (while there are a few exceptions) statistically the chance of a child’s’ post childhood success with any sport or extracurricular was slim while the investment in time with them as a family would have lifelong benefits. Why did that boundary come so easily and without a second thought but all other boundaries I feel like I’m letting someone (everyone) down? Relationship boundaries are very hard for me. Tim comments all the time on those that I keep close despite that offline that make me more than a little nutty – he doesn’t understand it. For him it’s black and white – if you are doing things that make him unhappy/hurt him you aren’t part of his world. I’ve learned a tremendous amount from my mother in law about navigating the world of adult children and their lives and invisible boundaries adult kids put down.

All this to say – where do you have balance in your life and is that because of conscious boundaries you’ve put into place? Where could you use more boundaries to achieve balance? Honestly want to hear thoughts!

Blessings y’all – Amy