Blog

This is a sad day. It marks two years since I lost my sweet corgi girl Tea Biscuit. She was my soul dog. There’s no doubt.

I remember the day like it was yesterday. Losing her happened fast. When she died in my arms, I howled and cried like never before. I loved her so completely and unconditionally as she loved me. I didn’t know how I was going to ever be happy again.

Even as I write this right now and remember, I’m tearing up. And it’s been two years.

I remember h0w much she loved to cuddle with me. She would lay next to me on my left and look up at me with her dark eyes with such love. She would often fall asleep next to me  I miss that, a lot.

I’ve bawled  many times in the last two years, especially when I lost her, and didn’t shed one tear when my dad died late last year. Pets are true family.

My lovely Tea Biscuit loved me unconditionally and I did the same. Biological family doesn’t really d0 that. Tea was my true family. My ride-or-die sweetie.

Pets truly are part of the family. They are so central to the love in the house. That’s why for so many people, like me, experiencing the loss of a pet  hurts more acutely than the loss of a family member.  Pets truly are one of the hardest losses to endure.

I’ve dreamed of Tea Tea  occasionally. I believe it’s her letting me know she’s ok and that she still loves me. Waking from a dream like that is wonderful. It’s like she’s with me again. Oh, what I’d do to have her with me again!

While I’ve marked her death for the last two years, I think I’ll focus on happier times from n0w on in my posts about her. I’ll celebrate her birthday in June and her gotcha day in August. She deserves that from n0w 0n.

One day, I will see her again. I know that for sure. At that time, and we can snuggle together like she did with me, with her beautiful brown eyes looking at me with love.

My beautiful Tea, I love you with all of me. I always will.

Everyone needs someone in their corner. Whether a person is thriving or struggling, having someone ready to lift them up can make all the difference. Many people don’t have that kind of support. It’s why I believe I  can choose to be it for others.

This is especially true for women. However, women don’t talk to themselves with love. I know I’m my worst critic. I don’t always think fondly of myself or speak to myself with love. I have a lot of improving to do. I think that’s pretty normal for women. It’s a constant struggle.

Having another woman ready to help you, lift you and light you up can make all the difference. Like most women, I have a bestie, a best friend. I speak to her with more love than I speak to myself. Perhaps more women like me can take a lesson from how we speak to our best friend. We should speak to ourselves with that same love and concern. Wouldn’t that be wonderful, to build ourselves up and light ourselves up, just as we light up our friends?

Just as I’m super firm with the boundaries I set with others, I need to do the same with how I treat myself. Setting boundaries without guilt is self care. It’s taking care of me. It’s ensuring my light isn’t dimmed by the toxic people who I continue to cut out of my life.

No one should dim my light. I won’t allow it. I feel the same way of making sure I light others up, too. After all, light begets light. That means I can be there for me and for others, too.

Life happens in ordinary moments. Yes, sometimes miracles and exciting moments do happen. But the ordinary is when life’s magic truly appears.

In beauty of ordinary moments, there is space for quiet and stillness. This could be challenge because I often try to get more and more done and end up overwhelmed and exhaused. The quiet, stillness and peace enables true mindfullness, resilience and rest and relaxation.

Again, this is not easy. It makes me feel a little uncomfortable. It may be messy. It means getting comfortable feeling uncomfortable. How to do that?

One small practice that helps during these moments? Instead of trying to get rid of the discomfort, I gently make room for it. Know it is ordinary. It’s beautiful. After all, it’s truly part of  day-to-day life.

However, I try not to force it. It’s not about“fixing” how I feel. It’s about releasing a firm grip on it and resisting –  and instead, just being. Being me and be proud of it. It’s beautiful to live in the ordinary. 

I just need to remind myself every day.

Change is defined as alteration, transformation and something different from the ordinary. With these definitions, it can be difficult to navigate change generally and specifically.

As a career communicator, I handled change communications and change management pretty much regularly. Change management can be summarized as a structured approach to transitioning something, individuals, teams and organizations from a current state to desired future state, aimed at employee empowerment for accepting change in the work environment. It demands transparency and clarity.

This means communicating simply and often and working with executives and other leaders regularly. I was proud to help employees and leaders learn how to adapt to change.

Both in companies and with individuals, change can be difficult. That includes each of us in our daily lives. Change isn’t easy. It can be messy. It can make life difficult at times.

After one month in 2026, I’m checking in on my goals and my three words. It’s the perfect time to remind myself of what I’ve set out to achieve and the decisions I made early this year.

First, my goals.

• Finish my book – Underway. I want to finish it in the first quarter or so this year. This one is on surviving loss and toxic family systems. I’m also starting a book on what it means to drive effective communications in organizations today.
• Take the right supplements for my health and fitness – I’ve decided what’s right for me and have started to take them.
• Consider a career pivot to grant writing – I’m still thinking about this. I’m not quite sure it’s for me yet.

Then, here are my three words for the year as a reminder to me:

• Ease: Defined as to be calm and relaxed.
• Peace. This is about also about calmness, quiet and inner focus.
• Purpose. For me, this means a life well-lived and aligned with my values and how I can make a difference. 

That’s my purpose for the year – to keep it  top of mind and to keep plugging away at all this.

Scared is defined as being thrown into or being in a state of fear, fright or panic. Depending on the situation, I have been scared. I hate spiders and any creepy crawly things. There have been moments in my life when I’ve been scared. When I got pregnant at 23, I was scared. When Rob left me at one point, I was scared. When I was laid off from a j0b, I was scared. 

But I’ve survived. And I’ve thrived.

In life, I’ve had different chapters in my life. Each person does. I believe there is power in life story. While that doesn’t mean it has to be in an actual b00k, life is a like a bo0k.

Looking back over my life so far, I’ve had super ups and equal downs. And I’ve been scared. That’s life, after all. I’ve loved. I’ve lost. I’ve found the love of my life. (P.S. It’s all with the same person, my husband!)

My daughter has always been central to my life purpose. Children tend to be that. She surely is for me. I raised her on my own and that was scary. That’s quite a point of pride for me. However, I’m super proud of the woman she’s become.

I’ve had great jobs, shit jobs and no jobs. It can be scary. The more I think of it, not having a job gives me a unique peace. That said, money is necessary for life, especially as we plan for retirement.

So, as I think about life in the extremes, it can be scary, but I’m not scared to start a huge new chapter or story of my life. To do that, I need to dig deep and be as confident as possible. Additionally, I’m fully committed to my self-care and not afraid to speaking my truth.

Looking back on some of the above events, I did hard things. In my actions, I wasn’t afraid. I survived a break up. I survived a j0b lay0ff. I survived being pregnant and having a child. I was n0t afraid.

I’l continue t0 be unafraid. One day at a time. One life event at a time. Change is the new norm. Perhaps my new story will be better, and I’m n0t scared.

There is the bible verse that says, “He who is without sin can cast the first stone.”

What that means to me is it’s important to remain humble. That’s not easy. It’s easier to pass judgement and speak from a position of power. But that’s not what the verse is about. It’s really about how no one is more important than anyone else.

Additionally, part of staying humble is to treat others how you’d want to be treated. That’s the Golden Rule. It’s one of my core values.

There’s another perspective when it comes to throwing stones or rocks. When others throw rocks at me, I keep them. I gather them and save them. Then I build a castle with them. It shows others that what ever they do to me, I make the best of it and that they can’t faze me.

But it’s an opportunity to let others know that I also have specific boundaries. That means how I will and will not allow others to treat me. These boundaries matter tons to me. It’s truly part of who I am. Make no mistake about it: I have no problem of cutting toxic individuals out of my life.

That’s why when someone throws stones at me, I build a beautiful, tall castle to let others know that I have my plans and dreams. In summary, stay humble and treat others how you’d want to be treated.

It has self care and peace at its core.

(Note: This post includes salty language. If fucking cursing bothers you, you may not want to read further.)

My father died Sunday, Dec. 28, 2025. I found out late afternoon Tuesday, Dec. 30, along with other extended family like aunts, uncles and cousins. Additionally shitty, my daughter had to call me to tell me. No other family had the balls or intestinal fortitude to tell me, including my cunt mother.

Here is his obituary.

He died in his sleep. My toxic, controlling biological family waited about 48 hours to let me know. I’m sure they knew first thing Sunday morning when he died.

Am I sad? No. I’m more angry than anything. Did I get to review the obituary? No. Did I to help plan his funeral Mass? No. Why is that? My two sisters and my mother control everything. In fact, I believe my sisters control my mother.

As the oldest daughter of three, I don’t matter to them. And that’s truly ok. Really. I’m actually pretty proud to be the black sheep.

Here’s a stupid example. The obit says my dad was known as “Papa Pat.” Maybe to some grandkids. My daughter, the oldest grandchild, called him Grandpa. (Here’s a photo of my daughter, Madden, with her Grandpa when she graduated from Notre Dame.) I asked that the one word “Grandpa” to be added to the obit which the funeral home did. On checking it again, my controlling biological family removed that one word. How fucking petty. But that’s who they all are.

At least they are being consistent as controlling shrews and cunts. I’ll give them that.  And my brothers-in-law continue to be pussies. Add to that, they’re the worst kind of Catholics. Those who judge others and think they are holier than thou. It’s hypocrisy personified. That’s not how I practice my Catholic faith.

Am I bitter? Eh. And here’s why. They put my father into memory care and he’d been there for a year before I found out by complete accident. When an uncle told me, he felt guilty about letting me know. It must have been something that I was never meant to find out at all.

My biological family left me out of the decision to put my dad into memory care and more: My mom, my two sisters and my two brothers-in-laws were all guilty of leaving me out.

I did visit my dad occasionally. I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt because of the deterioration of his mind. However, he was complicit in originally leaving me out by not letting me know he’d been entered into memory care. As others moved him in, did he not ask where his oldest daughter was during all of this? No he didn’t. I won’t forgive him for that, even in his death.

That’s why, eventually, I stopped visiting my dad. It wasn’t good for my mental health. Then, as the cunt my mom is, she had her attorney send me a letter early in 2025 to let me know if I wanted to visit my dad, I was to reach out to him to schedule it and not to contact my mother. Additionally, the two-bit attorney told me my badge to access where my dad was had been discontinued.

While my badge, in fact had not been cut, I did go to see my dad. One time, I went to see him to clean the clutter in his room – fold blankets and random clothes and dusted. No one had dusted his room for a very long time, if at all. It was sad how dusty it was, in fact. He wasn’t happy I did that, and, so, that was the last time I saw him.

Then, my mother eventually did cut my card access. That’s when I wrote a letter to my dad explaining why I wasn’t visiting him anymore. I sent it via email.

As a result, with my father’s funeral events (visitation, funeral Mass and internment happening this week), I am going to be at the events. The fucking controlling nature of my biological family is not going to keep me away.

I have asked my husband to help run interference for me. There’s no need for me to engage with anyone – my cunt mom and sisters or my pussy brothers-in-law.

So, the fact my father is dead is a weird experience because of my lack of feeling or emotion. This is the same man who didn’t talk to me for 9 months when I got pregnant out of wedlock. Then, in his obituary, it emphasizes his Catholic faith. “His Catholic faith led him in every phase of his life.” He’s yet another hypocritical Catholic.

Fuck supporting me as I was pregnant and scared. I had my baby and didn’t have an abortion. I did the Catholic thing. I had my baby who grew up to be an amazing woman. I raised her on my own with not even a penny from my parents.

When I was about 7 months pregnant, my mother cornered me in their downstairs bathroom to urge me to give my baby up for adoption. Once I said no, she should not have brought it up again. But, instead, she started to browbeat me and had me in a fetal position as I cried. True to who she is, she tried to control what I did. Fuck her. She’s a controlling shrew.

I asked one thing: That I could help lay the pall on the casket. I shared that with my daughter (who I believe shared it with my sisters, I’m not quite clear on that), and I shared it with the funeral home co-CEO. Well, that didn’t happen. Instead, my cunt mother and cunt sisters laid the pall on the casket in on the casket. Again, at least the cunts are consistent. Yep.

This entire thing was my cunt mother’s show. She revelled in the attention. She may have actually had a three-day orgasm.

My shit biological family may control the obituary content and the funeral Mass arrangements, but they can’t determine what I attend. I get to make that decision. Me. Not any of them.

So, the fact that I have absence of emotion about my father’s death makes complete sense to me. It may be unfortunate, but it’s the truth. I’m trying to just be in the moment as I attend events for him.

Happy Fucking New Year….

Quick update Jan. 5: At the visitation for my dad tonight, they had a cop on-site. It was, of course, to keep an eye on us. Again, FUCK my biological family for doing that  But I’m actually thrilled they spent money on a cop. It’s reprehensible of them. Cunts.

Another update Jan. 6: My father’s funeral was today. There was another cop at the church. Again, happy they spent the money on it. As we did last night, we introduced ourselves to the cop. What did the fuckers expect? Unruliness from us? So sorry to disappoint them!

Jan. 7: IT’S DONE! Yay! With internment today at Fort Snelling, all funeral related events are done. No more time spent with the horrid, evil biological individuals. I can breathe again. My shoulders now feel relaxed. Hopefully, I’ll sleep like a baby tonight!

Happy New Year! 2026 starts this week. As crazy as that sounds, it’s also amazing because it’s an opportunity for a fresh start. That means doing what I set out to accomplish with no excuses. Full stop.

This is also the time of the year when I set my three words for the new year.

The three words are intended to guide my actions and should match my goals for the coming year.

Here are my words for 2026 and my thoughts about why I selected them. Hopefully you’ll see a theme of what I’m calling in for next year. I call it my peace and quiet year.

Ease: Defined as to make calm and relaxed, I want to bring ease into all areas of my life. Ease is similar to easy. While life isn’t easy, you can live it with a sense of ease. That’s my goal this year.

Peace. This is kind of related to ease but this is more about calmness, quiet and inner focus. For me, it’s about prayer, meditation, mindset and fully feeling aware. Peace for me is like falling asleep in savasana, the practice when you gradually relax one body one part at a time, one muscle at a time, and one thought at a time. It conditions the body to release stress and can improve your sense of physical and emotional well-being.

Purpose. This is the reason for which something is done or created or for which something exists. It may be the purpose of or a strong sense of determination and meaning in one’s life. For me, purpose means a life well-lived aligned with my values. It means understanding how I can make a difference one day at a time. 

Now, it’s about making these words my focus for 2026. It’s writing them down and committing them to memory. Here’s to the new year and a new focus!

This week is special. Christmas is about time with family and loved ones.  It’s also about and spending it at special places like up north. We’ll enjoy fires in the fireplace and reading books and writing.

(This year, we are struggling with colds, so that’s not great.)

Christmas Eve we are having lunch with Rob and his older son. It’s also a time to spend with friends. We spend it at our local watering hole after an early Mass. We’ve really developed some special friends and enjoy good conversation.

Christmas Day is all about family. My daughter hosts our traditional Christmas breakfast of coffee cake/monkey bread, bacon and eggs. It’s become a tradition in its own right to have breakfast at her place. I love being with her and her pets Ron the cat and Stella the corgi. We look forward to it.

Other special food we cook includes goulash with potato dumplings around New Years Eve. We will also have a turkey with all the trimmings in the week between Christmas and New Years. Yum!

I’m super excited that my love, Rob, will be home with many days off. Time off is especially good for him right now. I get really used to having him home that when he goes back to work, I miss him a lot.

Christmas is really about love, joy, relaxation and time with those who really matter.

Merry Christmas!