One day, Mrs. Flynn asked us to write - what I later discovered was a fairly common essay question - “What Do I Want To Be When I Grow Up?” After completing the essay, I would place my hand in a plate of plaster of paris to imprint this moment in time. Later we painted the negative space red.

26 years ago, I was pregnant with my son and my first child. A friend who would later become a godparent to our daughter, who would arrive two years later, announced that she had melanoma. This frightened her, and what would later be the beginning of a series of challenges she would face, she somehow continued to be strong with a clear intention of her desire. She still had plans.

True joy is a limitless, life-defining, transformative reservoir waiting to be tapped into. It requires the utmost surrender and, like love, is a choice to be made.

This past week, Michael and I traveled to Long Beach to join my brother and sister-in-law to memorialize our friend, our family member, a person we loved.

I am a fortunate being to witness both scenarios … of love and that love permeates both the wonder of innocence and the grief of losing our loved ones. Love is a force, is the connective tissue and what we source from in being held in community.