Dear family, friends and loved ones, 

I am currently teaching idioms to my fourth graders and I realize that sending a thank you card before the holidays might seem like putting the cart before the horse, however, looking back on our journey over the last couple of years and my journey since I lost James last December, there is nothing more important to say this holiday season, than to express my deepest gratitude to all of you. 

It is not hyperbole to say I would not be here writing this today if it weren’t for my sister, Julie.  She was here in my (and James’) darkest hours and she has remained present when I’ve needed her, nearby when I was uncertain and at a distance when I had to go it alone. Likewise to Rob, I am deeply in debt for all the times he helped fix things around me while I was still trying to fix things within me.  My gratitude extends to my dad, who has walked this road before and who has shared his support and insights with me to help me navigate this unwelcome journey. To my second mom, Judy, and her email chain, your love and support was multiplied by all your friends and family who took me into their hearts and prayers.  To my son, Jacob, and his wife, Carissa, more than just delicious scones and banal tech support, your visits warm my heart in immeasurable ways. To my brother, Garrett, and his family, thank you for help with garage doors and deck stairs and other decisions that may feel trivial to you, but felt mountainous to me. I am thankful also for my Aunt Marg, who has her entire church praying for me and who sends me anecdotal emails that light up my heart.  My appreciation goes out to my mother-in-law, Evelyn, as well, who helped me heal while her heart was still breaking.

My deepest gratitude to my friends – from Jaime who left her classroom and showed up at my door immediately upon hearing the news to “The Heathers” who have continued to invite me out and check in on me – your strength and support has lifted me more times than you can know. Deep thanks to Steve and Jess, your friendship meant the world to James and will always mean the world to me. My gratitude goes out to Marissa who “co-taught” solo last year – picking up the slack for me in my physical and mental absence – you are the reason I was and can ever hope to be “highly effective.” 

I am blessed to work with an amazing team of gentle-hearted people who didn’t just allow me, but encouraged me to put family first and who have been there before and since to support in any way they can. Likewise, in all their precious ways, I am grateful for my students, who have hugged me and handed me tissues, who have written me note after note to encourage me.  Your compassionate hearts give me hope for our future.

To all members of “James’ Army”- including my extended family and circles of friends,  from my high school chemistry teacher and his wife; to Sarah, a kindred widow herself, who knew to recommend a book on joy in the midst of my grief – you all have touched my heart in so many ways this past year.  Diane, your note forever lives in my wallet, and the cards, emails and blog comments that all of you have sent me, have reminded me again and again that while grief is uniquely personal, it is also universal.  

I would be remiss to leave off Trudy, Charlotte and the flock.  You all gave me a purpose, if only, in the early stages of my grief, to get out of bed to fill food and water bowls.  I am especially thankful to have Trudy to talk to, if only so I don’t question the sanity of talking to myself so much.  I promise more walks and less tears in the days ahead.

Above all, I am forever and ever grateful for James.  For his humor, for our shared dreams and above all for his love. This home, this farm, this life, this path I am on would not be possible if it hadn’t been for you. My love for you, Chief, is bigger than Germany. 

May you all have a season, a year and a life full of blessings and, most especially, full of gratitude.