Soft Life, Hard Lessons

I recently had a deep conversation with a close friend about grief—specifically how heavy death anniversaries and birthdays feel when you’ve lost someone you love. When you care about someone carrying that kind of weight, you pay attention.

So I made a bold, leap-of-faith decision: I moved my flight to Atlanta up by 15 days.

A few weeks ago, a mutual friend played matchmaker. It all started with a simple sharing of photos and a few text exchanges. Who knew it would blossom into what it is now?

If you had told me at the beginning of this year that I’d be simultaneously navigating 10 Jerry Springer Show seasons worth of dating apps, receiving apology tours from exes a decade late, and coaching my own dear mother through her dating life, I’d be your indentured servant for a month! But here we are, and the streets are making my edges thin.

The magic started on a Friday in Atlanta. My sleep is always a little unpredictable when I’m traveling, and I didn’t roll out of bed until 12:30 p.m. I headed to my favorite local buffet specifically to hit the salad bar. While I was waiting in line, two friends approached me. One of them looked at me, completely unprompted, and said I was beautiful and that I had pretty toes. Look at God!