Ode to 22 Years of Marriage

 April 17, 2026

My Dearest Ray,

Happy Twenty Two Years of Marriage!

Let me begin by saying I'm sorry that this ode is a belated one--but maybe, apropos given our life station.

How do I begin to share a snapshot of where we find ourselves 22-years into our union--to begin, our 21-year old son is in Malaga, Spain on holiday from his study abroad semester in Copenhagen.  Our 18-year old daughter is finalizing her first year of college having completed multiple theater productions and our 15-year old daughter just got her Learner's Permit and is saving to do a service trip to the Dominican Republic. Meanwhile, you have never been busier with clients and I am still a divorce mediator teaching at Creighton.  

And somehow, we still find each other--in multiple daily written and voice to audio texts, on long walks through Elmwood Park, at the espresso machine groggy in the kitchen, coming and going while exchanging logistical updates and kisses at the front door, and in countless shared articles, podcast interviews, and memes remarking on the dismissal state of U.S. leadership or lack thereof and inspiring messaging from the Pope, bravery of the Artemis astronauts, and  goodness of people we know.

We have curated a really beautiful life that I am deeply grateful for.  

To be honest, I can hardly believe that in a few short years, I will have spent more of my life with you than without you.  And in that time, you have taught me so much about what it means not only to be a good partner, friend, and co-parent, but also, a really great human being.

And when I reflect, I'm mindful of three primary ways you model unconditional love for me.  First, you are fully the fuck in it.  You listen to my fears, my crazy writing/speaking dreams, my insecurities, my over the board, 'what if's?' and you greet them usually with a big bear hug, an offer to make my favorite coffee/tea drink, a hunkering down in the seat next me, and full eye contact as I go on and on likely about something you've heard many times before.  Then, you wait until I'm done and ask what I'd like in the moment--most of the time I say--to know that it will be okay--and you calmly say--look at our life and all of the ways that it has all been more than okay.

Second up, you have boundless energy for our family.  Whatever we need or want to explore--you make it happen--including a magical dream trip this spring to Europe to see our son in Copenhagen, a Michelin star dinner because it was his dream, a trip to London's West End and tour of the Globe because it was the girls' dream, and endless trips to patisseries, cafes, and the hunt for the perfect scarf because it was my dream. You always remind us that life is for the living and that we should do the thing that our heart is yearning for and that often, the first step is just putting one foot in front of the other--making the telephone call, sending the email, creating a game plan, trusting that we can course correct when needed and that it's more about the trying imperfectly than the landing.  And to that end, you have more optimism and consistency than anyone I've known; and I'm thankful that you frequently let me borrow it when I'm scared to jump into the unknown.

Finally, you are not interested in what the world says is or is not possible or what the latest fad is--you are grounded in yourself, your values, and your deep commitment to your faith and your family--and because of that I always (and I know the kids feel the same) am your priority and I never have to prove my worthiness.  You love me for me and encourage me to be more and more of me with each passing year--and this kind of love frees me and us to grow and change in the world and to greet each other at the beginning and end of our day's journey.

As we enter into this twenty-third year, may we embark upon fun and adventure together believing that as the kids graduate from college and head into the world for their own adventures, we have cultivated a durable, sustainable, beautiful love that keeps us grounded in our commitment so that we can pursue our individual dreams. May we find ourselves on many walks, drinking delicious espresso drinks, discussing incredible movies/books/interviews, sharing countless motivational family group chats, exploring new spaces, ranting over political ridiculousness, praying for peace, serving our community, and remembering that this life we've built is a good one.

What a gift you are to me.   

All my Love,

Kelly

Ode to Sam on Your 21st Birthday

February 8, 2026

My Dearest Sam,

Happy, Happy 21st Birthday!!

I can hardly believe that you're 21-years old AND studying abroad in Copenhagen AND that I'm not the only blogger in the family!  It's been amazing keeping track of all of your incredible adventures through the eyes of your camera and masterful writing.

It reminds me of when I was your age studying in Greece and Turkey.

Aw man, Sam, there are so many things I want to share with you, but in a weird way, I feel like as you've grown and gone away to college, that I've really lucked out and been able to have many meaningful, beautiful conversations with you--particularly when you were home for a month before heading to Europe.

Often, we grabbed hats, gloves, and all of the big questions we could muster and made multiple loops around Elmwood Park sharing stories, getting into the weeds, picking up acorns (to remind us of our potential) and wrestling with the unanswerable.  I think I've kind of been waiting for this closeness in our relationship.  It's the gift of a lifetime to journey and to learn from and with you.

Over the years, people would tell dad and me that you remind them of an old soul and that your focus on the things that matter and your loyalty to your friends and family is unparalleled.  So, while I would love to offer you pieces of advise or words of wisdom--it's hard to encourage you to do anything differently, because you've got such a north star guiding you that it's both inspiring and comforting.

The one thing that fifty years of life does bring is the gradual understanding that the questions are infinitely more interesting and more true than the answers.  This is why when you declared studio art and philosophy as your majors I was thrilled beyond measure.  I knew you'd be reading the good thinkers and asking the hard questions as you examined what it means to live a good life.  

I'm not very good at it, but I'm learning that getting comfortable with uncertainty and not knowing is the mark of peace.  And that following your heart/gut/intuition/longing/yearning/curiosity/wonderment/hope/despair/concern/belief will never steer you wrong.  The danger lies in doing what you think the world wants you to do to prove your worth or your value.

So, let me say it now--no matter where you go, who you meet, what you study, where you work, who you love--you are a child of God with a purpose and a free will and a big, beautiful, wild, unique, precious life...so, live, really, live fully into it knowing that it doesn't have to look like anyone else's except for yours.  And that is the tricky part--because the world won't always understand or even condone your choices--they'll tell you that smart people do this or pragmatic people do that or strategic people work here or successful people look like this or love like that.  Fuck them.  

Stand up straight.  Walk into the rooms.  Be brave.  Tell your story. Share your dreams and don't be afraid to be the only one listening. 

And as you grapple with internships in other states, graduate school or jobs, relationships and what is meant to be--trust that if you remain open and let your voice be the loudest, you'll know when it's time to throw yourself at something or to pivot gracefully and move toward something else.  And as you do so, keep taking your cameras and journals with you-document it all.  Remind yourself of the incredible architecture, the extraordinary food, the loud, beautiful, kind people, bike riding and metro hopping and all of the culinary meals with newfound friends from across the globe, and say to yourself--this life, my life--isn't always easy, but it's really, really good.

Here's to so many blessings and adventures in this 21st year and may all of your memories bring you back to your 2026 mantra of wild independence.  

I could not love you more,

xoxo, Mom