The Sweetest Things

The sweetest things sometimes are just that—the sweetest things.

This time of year, it feels nearly impossible for a day to pass without candies and cookies and all the delicious desserts tempting us from every direction. And I’ll be honest… I give in. I indulge. I always do this time of year. December isn’t when I try to be strict—it’s when I let myself enjoy.

But lately, I’ve been reminded that not all sweetness comes from sugar.

Some of the sweetest things don’t come from a bakery at all.

My son’s dog, Rue, is one of them. She has been paralyzed for seven months now, and just this past week we learned she likely has some form of cancer affecting her lungs. And yet—this sweet little angel is home, surrounded by love, giving it freely. She doesn’t complain. She doesn’t retreat. She simply keeps showing up—with kisses, with presence, with that quiet courage animals seem to have mastered.

My son takes her on walks in her stroller. He has a special wheelchair she uses for short strolls on the beach. They aren’t long walks anymore—nothing strenuous—but watching her keep on keeping on is one of the most heart-softening things I’ve ever witnessed. She’s one lucky girl.

Over these months, my son has spent a small fortune trying to give her comfort and time. Each time a hefty veterinary bill arrives, he shrugs and says, If it buys me another few weeks or months with her, it’s worth it. His heart is so tender. I love that about him more than I can say.

They say the problem with memories is that memories can’t love you back. And as I continue to miss my lost love, I understand that truth on some level. But then I think about my daughter’s late dog, Daisy. She’s been gone for more than three years now, and yet the joy she still brings our family feels very real. It makes me question that idea—because it sure feels like she’s still loving us back, even now.

And I believe, in some quiet and meaningful way, that Rue will still love us back too.

I love dogs, but I don’t want one of my own. Instead, I soak up the sweetness of my children’s dogs—the borrowed love, the shared joy, the privilege of being part of their lives without needing to own the heartbreak that eventually comes.

And then there is the sweetest of all sweet things.

My granddaughter.

She brings a level of joy to my life I never could have imagined. I’m headed back to Atlanta tomorrow to spend the holidays with her—one full week of toddler giggles, tiny hands, and moments I know will fly by too fast. We have plans, including a day trip to Augusta so my parents can spend time with her the day after Christmas.

Christmas Eve dinner will be at Arnet's, one of our favorite spots, and Santa will be there. She loves Santa… from afar. Up close, she cries. And honestly? The pictures of her crying in Santa’s lap the last two years are some of my very favorites. I’m hoping this might be the week she leans in and lets him hold her—but even if she doesn’t, those teary-eyed photos will still be sweet beyond measure.

Because sweetness isn’t about perfection.

It’s about presence.

It’s about love that shows up—whether it’s in a stroller rolling along the beach, a memory that still warms your heart, a toddler who melts you completely, or even a cookie enjoyed slowly and without guilt.

And speaking of cookies…

The Cookie That Sparked the Thought

Here are three cookies you can make with minimal ingredients and a slightly lower-carb leaning compared to traditional cookies—thin, crisp, buttery, and meant to be savored.

1. Almond Cranberry Florentine (Classic & Crisp)

Ingredients

• 1 cup sliced almonds (very thin)

• 2 tablespoons finely chopped dried cranberries

• 2 tablespoons butter

• 2 tablespoons brown sugar (or coconut sugar)

• 1 tablespoon heavy cream

• ½ teaspoon vanilla

• Pinch of salt

How

• Melt butter, sugar, and cream together just until smooth.

• Stir in almonds, cranberries, vanilla, and salt.

• Spoon very small, thin mounds onto parchment.

• Bake at 350°F for 8–10 minutes until deeply golden.

• Let cool completely—they crisp as they cool.

✨ Naturally thin. Naturally crisp. No flour needed.

2. Pecan Cranberry Butter Crisps

(Softer flavor, deep butter notes)

Ingredients

• ¾ cup finely chopped pecans

• ¼ cup sliced almonds

• 2 tablespoons dried cranberries

• 2 tablespoons butter

• 1½ tablespoons brown sugar

• 1 teaspoon maple syrup

• Pinch of salt

Prepare the same way as above. These bake beautifully thin with a richer, almost toffee-like flavor.

3. Ultra-Simple Low-Carb Nut Crisps

Ingredients

• 1 cup sliced almonds

• 1 tablespoon butter, melted

• 1–2 tablespoons monk fruit sweetener (or brown sugar, if preferred)

• 1 tablespoon chopped cranberries

• Pinch of salt

• Optional splash of vanilla

Mix, spread very thin, and bake at 350°F until golden and lacy. These feel like a cookie-cracker hybrid—perfect with tea or coffee.

A Sweet Little Closing Thought

Perhaps sweetness isn’t something we should always resist.

Perhaps it’s something we should learn to recognize—

in moments,

in memories,

in dogs who keep going,

in children who light up our lives,

and yes… sometimes in cookies enjoyed slowly and without regret.

Because the sweetest things often aren’t meant to last forever.

They’re meant to be savored.

🍯 Honey Note

Sweetness doesn’t always come wrapped in sugar or tied up neatly with a bow. Sometimes it arrives in a stroller rolling along the beach, in a dog who keeps loving even when her body is tired, in memories that still manage to hold us close, or in a tiny child who reminds us just how big joy can be.

This season, I’m letting myself savor the sweet things—both the ones I can taste and the ones I can feel. Because perhaps the sweetest moments aren’t meant to be resisted or rushed past, but noticed… and held with gratitude while they’re here.

There is one more sweetness I hold quietly, almost reverently. My granddaughter entered my life around the same time my love left, and I’ve come to believe that timing was no accident. It feels as though God, in His gentleness, placed someone spectacular exactly where a void existed—someone small, radiant, and full of wonder. A little girl who will never leave my life. One I will always get to love, and who I know will always love me back. That truth doesn’t replace what was lost, but it softens the ache in a way that feels like grace. And when I sit with it long enough, it may be the sweetest, most beautiful gift I can imagine.

With a full heart and a grateful spirit,

Honey 🐝