For the Girl I Was, the Woman I Am, and the Granddaughter I Hope to Inspire

Lately, I’ve been thinking about a recent blog post where I shared that I want to live a life that would make my eight-year-old self smile and my eighty-year-old self proud.

Last night, though, something new—and deeper—settled into my heart.

The life I truly want to live, the legacy I want to leave, is one that would make my fifty-year-old granddaughter smile… and feel proud.

A life that shows her you can make mistakes—and start over.

And start over again if you need to.

That even at fifty and beyond, there is still so much living left to do.

I want her to see that we don’t have to grow old in the way the world expects us to. That we can choose joy. Choose curiosity. Choose play. That we can stay a little wild, a little curious, maybe even a little bit crazy—and that doing so can make life richer, fuller, and far more beautiful.

Some chaos mixed with hurricanes and tornadoes?

Perhaps that’s exactly what gives a journey its color.

What makes a life awe-inspiring instead of simply tidy.

I was thinking about my own Honey last night. My mom shared stories with me—stories of just how wild she could be. And instead of shocking me, they filled me with pride.

I loved knowing that about her.

She was a thunderstorm—lightning first, followed by the warmest sunlight on your face. A force. A woman with a colorful, beautiful life. A life that some may have judged or called “too much” or “crazy,” but that I call lovely—because every part of it shaped her into the grandmother I adored.

And still adore.

She died twenty-five years ago, on April 2, 2001, far too young at sixty-six. Until the very end, we spoke almost weekly. Every party I threw, every adventure I took, every big moment in my life—I couldn’t wait to tell my Honey. I wanted her to know. I wanted her to be proud.

She is still one of the great loves of my life.

And now, as I live forward, I realize this: I am still trying to make her proud. But I am also living in a way that honors her spirit—by choosing joy, embracing imperfection, loving deeply, and refusing to dim my light.

If my granddaughter someday remembers me the way I remember my Honey—as a woman who lived boldly, loved fiercely, and never lost her sense of wonder—then I will know I lived exactly the life I was meant to live.

Honey Note 🤍

If you’re reading this and wondering whether it’s too late to begin again, to loosen your grip, to laugh louder, love deeper, or live more boldly—sweet girl, it’s not. Life isn’t asking us to be perfect. It’s asking us to be alive.

With love, always—

Honey 🐝

P.S. to my sweet girl 🤍

Every heartbreak will make you stronger, even when it feels like it might break you. Every loss will leave behind a strength you may not have discovered otherwise. And every adventure—big or small—is what brings meaning, color, and joy to your life.

Never let anyone tell you who to love or how to live. This life is yours, and yours alone. Live it in the way that makes your heart feel full and alive. Those who truly love you will love you—not in spite of your choices, but because of the brave, beautiful soul you are.

Always be kind. Always be curious. And never be afraid to begin again.

Love you forever,

Honey 🐝

My Honey! 🍯