Talking About Precious Things

“There’s not a word yet for old friends who’ve have just met.” – Jim Henson

I overhead a tender conversation between my 7-year-old son, Mr. D. and his 7-year-old classmate and friend, M. M came over for a couple of playdates.

Playdate 1:

M as he holds up Bun Bun, Mr. D’s most prized stuffy. Bun Bun doesn’t go anywhere with Mr. D anymore but he sleeps with him most nights: “What’s this?“

Mr. D: “That’s Bun Bun.“

M: “Okay but what is he?”

Mr. D hunts around for the words for his most valued companion that makes him feel safe and centered. Then he finally comes out with, “He’s my stuffie. Like you know…“

Playdate 2 a week later:

M holds up Bun Bun: “Did you bring Bun Bun to show to the class for the five things about you?“

Mr. D: “No“

M: “Why not? Is he just….just too precious?“

Mr. D: “I guess.“

There’s a palpable difference in my son’s ability to find words for things that are close to the heart versus my daughter. She’s always been quick to disclose anything while he quietly struggles to find the right words.

So my hat is off to Mr. D’s friend for his willingness to try to figure out what’s precious. It’s the important work of how to be vulnerable friends. The timing is tricky, sometimes the words don’t quite come out right, but I think the curiosity to know what makes each other tick is some of the glue that keeps us close.

(photos are mine of Miss O and Mr. D at about age 8 and 4)

If my work has encouraged, inspired, or helped you try something new, consider supporting it with a small “cup of coffee” donation. Your support helps me keep creating conversations, stories, and resources that cheer people on as they do brave, meaningful work.

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram wynneleon

Please check out the The Life of Try podcast Where trying becomes the spark for personal growth, discovery, and re-invention!

Agate Magic

NOTE: There is nothing scientifically provable in this story. But it is still 100% true.

This weekend my kids and I had the occasion to visit my dad’s favorite beach. We were visiting one of my dad’s favorite people, Patsi. It was Patsi who whispered in my ear at my dad’s service 12 years ago that I was his favorite child. And Patsi and I were walking on the beach with my dad’s favorite grandchildren he’s never met.

You can see where I’m going with this. It was a powerful place.

As we walked on the beach, we were hunting for agates. I’ll insert the dictionary definition here because the “you know them when you see them” approach doesn’t work well with writing. Miriam-Webster describes these rocks as: “a fine-grained variegated chalcedony having its colors arranged in stripes, blended in clouds, or showing mosslike forms.”

picture of an agate

We walked 40 minutes at beachcombing pace to get to my dad’s favorite beach. As we strolled, Patsi and I told the kids about Dad’s uncanny ability to find agates. My dad had a lazy eye so he essentially could only see out of one eye. This meant he lacked depth perception (in the visual sense, not the spiritual sense). But somehow he developed the timing to hit the tennis ball, the coordination to swing at a softball, and the ability to help everyone find where their errant golf balls were hit. And he could spot agates on the beach.

One of my dad’s favorite antics was to slyly pick up an agate he found and then toss it in front of whoever he was with so they could “find” it. This happened often to both Patsi and me. If we failed to notice the “planted” agate, he’d point it out and tease, “how could you miss this? It’s practically the size of a boulder?”

As we beachcombed with the kids, I was starting to regret talking up the agates so much. It’d been almost 20 years since I’d been to this beach, what if there weren’t agates any more? Was I setting my kids up for a failure?

And then my 11-year-old daughter, Miss O, exclaimed, “I found one!” Patsi, the official verifier, declared it not just an agate, but a boulder of one.

I was feeling the parental anxiety of one kid getting one when it was unlikely that the other would. Then less than three minutes after Miss O’s find, my six-year-old son said, “there’s one!” He found a beautifully colored and shaped one.

We idly kept beach combing. Now that my kids had theirs, I felt more alive to the sunshine and water sounds. As I relaxed in the breath-taking scenery in a place my beloved father loved, I looked down – and there was a beautiful agate directly in front of my left toe.

Completely unprovable but I’m 100% certain my dad was there, “planting” the agates, reveling in our joy, soothing our worries, and surrounding us with love, as he always did.

P.S. Patsi confessed later that she didn’t think we’d find any. She’s lived on that beach for 31 years so she has a pretty good sense. But there’s no accounting for magic.

(photos are mine from Guemes Island, Washington)

If my work has encouraged, inspired, or helped you try something new, consider supporting it with a small “cup of coffee” donation. Your support helps me keep creating conversations, stories, and resources that cheer people on as they do brave, meaningful work.

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram wynneleon

Please check out the The Life of Try podcast Where trying becomes the spark for personal growth, discovery, and re-invention!

The Stories We Hold

“Tell me facts, and I’ll learn. Tell me truth, and I’ll believe you. But tell me a story and it will live in my heart forever.” – Native American Proverb

My 11-year-old daughter, Miss O, came home from the second week of middle school with a story she was carrying. She said that there’s a 6th grade boy with ADHD. He’s short with short hair and wears purple glasses. She felt bad for him because her friends said that a teacher in a class stood behind him doing the hand motion for a chatterbox. You know – the talking with your hand kind of motion.

But then this kid got up to do karaoke at lunch. Apparently, they do karaoke on Fridays every week at her middle school. He picked a song and totally rocked it. He just gave it all he had and did great. She started crying as she told me this part because she was so impressed that someone could live out in the open like that, especially as a new-to-middle school 6th grader.

And I told her a story I was carrying. I was out walking Cooper the other day and from a block away saw my neighbor, Ken, out weeding. He lives one block west and one block south of us so not a close connection. But I have spent enough time walking with my dogs and children in the 26 years I’ve lived here that I’ve gotten to know these neighbors.

I watched as their kids left home. Then when they subdivided their lot and built a small house in the yard so their daughter and her husband could live in the house she grew up in. And then the daughter had two babies. We gave them our playhouse and our pink plastic “Fred Flintstone” car. So we’re close enough to be touched by each other but not in each other’s lives.

When I saw Ken, I wondered for a moment if I wanted to walk a different way. Not because I don’t like him, but because I knew in my gut something was wrong. The other day he was weeding his driveway and he didn’t look up. I haven’t seen his wife in a few weeks.

I chose to stay the course and used the block to just open my heart to hold whatever was coming. When I approached, Cooper leaned into him. As Ken threaded his fingers through Cooper’s fur, he quietly said, “I don’t know if you know but Marilyn passed away in June. She had pancreatic cancer.”

Oh dang. I remarked that she was young. Ken said she was 2 days younger than him – 75 years old. When I asked, he told me they’d been married for 48 years.

Both Miss O and I were crying by the time I finished telling the story. Two stories of the quiet struggle and courage of people living out loud. So many different ways to be courageous. The common denominator is that for all those that are watching, there’s not a dry eye in the house.

(featured photo is from Pexels)

If my work has encouraged, inspired, or helped you try something new, consider supporting it with a small “cup of coffee” donation. Your support helps me keep creating conversations, stories, and resources that cheer people on as they do brave, meaningful work.

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram wynneleon

Please check out the The Life of Try podcast Where trying becomes the spark for personal growth, discovery, and re-invention!

How Badly Do You Want It?

“A child can teach an adult three things:
To be happy for no reason,
To always be busy with something, and
To know how to demand with all his might that which he desires.” – Paulo Coehlo

I think we are born with a great capacity for persistence. It’s not just the quote that makes me think so.

The other day I was out beach combing with my kids. After we spent about 45 minutes tickling the clams so they’d squirt, picking up the jagged sea glass (that sounds so much better than broken bottles) so it wouldn’t cut any paws, and hunting for moon snail shells, my seven-year-old son, Mr. D discovered a wide tide pool.

There were tiny fish in the pool. He declared he wanted to catch one. I wandered nearby looking at the rocks and shells and watching his efforts out of the corner of my eye. All the while thinking, “He’s never going to catch a fish with his hands.”

So I emptied out our little beach bucket that I’d collected the broken glass and shells in and handed it to him.  The sand was too wet to sit so I kept circling as I daydreamed about sitting down with another cup of tea.

Finally, I took off my shoes and socks and waded in to the tide pool with him. It was warm and about the size a swimming pool with plenty of seaweed for the fish to hide under. I thought I could scare the fish towards him and hopefully speed up the process.

We spotted a flat fish that was almost an inch wide and the color of the sand. He was bigger than the other fish Mr. D had been chasing so he named him, “The King.” Every time Mr. D would get close, the fish would embed himself in the sand. The King’s camouflage was so good that he was nearly impossible to spot.

But Mr. D stayed at it and within minutes, we’d spot him again. As much as I wanted Mr. D to have success, I also was tiring of what seemed like a fruitless process. Isn’t this where we give up and call it a lesson in resilience?

I stepped out of the tide pool and started walking towards my shoes. I called over to Mr. D that we were heading back in five minutes. He responded with a verbal groan but kept working at catching The King.

And about five minutes later, he bent down with his hands together and scooped up some sand. He shouted, “I caught The King!!”

Indeed he did – with his bare hands. I took in his glowing grin as I brought him the bucket to put The King in. Then we happily headed back to where we were staying so Mr. D could show his sister the fish.

Then, after taking a couple of photos and telling the story, he walked The King down to the water and returned him to the bay.

That’s when I realized that persistence was something purer than I often see it these days: it’s keeping with our goals, finding the people that will wade in and help, ignoring anyone that tells us we can’t do it. And that staying with it doesn’t have to preclude being kind and accepting – because we can still tell the story and then let the fish swim away.

So… how badly do you want it?

(featured photo is mine of Mr. D returning The King to the water, second picture is of Mr. D with The King)

If my work has encouraged, inspired, or helped you try something new, consider supporting it with a small “cup of coffee” donation. Your support helps me keep creating conversations, stories, and resources that cheer people on as they do brave, meaningful work.

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram wynneleon

Please check out the The Life of Try podcast Where trying becomes the spark for personal growth, discovery, and re-invention!

The Stories We Inherit

“No legacy is as rich as honesty.” – William Shakespeare

My ex-husband used to describe me as independent, especially when we were arguing. But he’d say it in a way that would fill out all four syllables with disdain…in-de-PEN-dent! The first time he said it that way, I was shocked that something I thought was a core value could be interpreted so negatively.

So when my mom came to stay with us for four nights recently, I asked her why being independent was so important to her, especially growing up. She told me that it came from her father. He was the oldest of eight kids. They were farmers in north eastern Washington and had very little money.

By the time my grandfather was seven years old, he was responsible for many things on the farm including spending days and nights in the wild chasing down their high-spirited mare when she’d get loose and run with the wild horses.

As she told the story, I felt like I’d gotten a new piece to the puzzle of what shaped my upbringing and legacy. It was a fascinating conversation to have with my mom on the heels of the podcast I recorded with author, Jennifer Griffith. She inspires the question: How do the stories we inherit from our families shape who we become—and how can we rewrite those stories with more compassion, courage, and purpose?

In this episode of The Life of Try, I talk with Jennifer Griffith, author of Both Sides of Then and host of the podcast About Your Mother, about inherited family stories, hidden shame, resilience, motherhood, memoir writing, and the healing power of bringing secrets into the light.

Jennifer shares how learning her mother’s story changed the way she understood her own identity, why family history can influence the way we parent and see ourselves, and how her LENS framework helps people revisit old narratives, look at them from a new perspective, and use those stories for good.

Here are some key takeaways from our conversation:

  • We all inherit stories—and they shape how we see ourselves.
    Jennifer reminds us that family history, secrets, wounds, and even everyday phrases from our parents can quietly influence our identity, choices, and relationships.
  • Seeing our parents as people can create compassion and clarity.
    When we understand the experiences, pain, and resilience that shaped our parents, we can better understand ourselves—and begin to loosen the grip of old assumptions.
  • Shame loses power when it is brought into the light.
    Family secrets can create distance, but honest storytelling—shared with care and appropriate boundaries—can create healing, connection, and freedom.
  • A new lens can help us rewrite old narratives.
    Jennifer’s LENS framework encourages us to listen to the stories we repeat, engage with them, narrate them from multiple perspectives, and step out of them so we can use them for good.
  • Trying again often means slowing down and letting the work become ready.
    Jennifer’s story about being told “you’re not ready” became a powerful lesson in patience, humility, and the creative courage required to keep going.

This eye-opening conversation explores family secrets, legacy, forgiveness, generational stories, personal growth, writing a memoir, and what it means to keep trying when a story is still unfolding.

Here are some other ways you can listen and watch this episode:

Links for this episode:

The Power of Looking at Your Life Through a New Lens transcript

Both Sides of Then: Finding Love After Abandonment by Jennifer Griffith on Amazon

Jennifer Griffith’s website: Jennifer Griffith – Author of Both Sides of Then – Podcast Host and Author

About Your Mother on Apple podcasts

 Other episodes you might enjoy

How to Tell Relatable Stories

The Quiet Mindset Shifts that Changes Everything | Mindfulness & Personal Growth with Joseph Schmidt

How to Embrace What Makes You Different | Finding Your Purpose with Kym Gordon Moore

(featured photo from Pexels)

If my work has encouraged, inspired, or helped you try something new, consider supporting it with a small “cup of coffee” donation. Your support helps me keep creating conversations, stories, and resources that cheer people on as they do brave, meaningful work.

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram wynneleon

Weaving Our Tapestries of Connection

“Relations are like electric currents. Wrong connections will give you shocks throughout your life. But the right ones light up your life. ” – unknown

I didn’t realize that I was pulling a loose thread in my life until we landed in France on our recent trip. But I teared up when I was explaining to our friends there that I felt compelled to visit them so that Miss O could know a little bit about what their son’s life was in France. I continued on to say that I believed that it would be easier for their son to come home to start middle school if at least one other friend had seen where he’d been.

Miss O and their older son had been in every class together from ages three through seven when the family moved to France. And then we saw them every summer when they’d come to visit so Mr. D got to know their younger son too.

I didn’t take me long to puzzle out my tears. When my family moved back from the Philippines to the States I was almost seven-years-old. It wasn’t long into trying to make friends at Jefferson Elementary when I heard kids teasingly jeer, “In the Philippines…” I must have started many sentences that way and it got old – for them and for me. Because the two lives were so different.

I didn’t know it was a loose thread all these years later. But I had an inexplicable certainty that I needed to take my family to France to build a bridge for these kids. If my kids could at least see a bit of where these boys had spent four years, perhaps their shift back to school in Seattle could be a bit more integrated.

The parents of these boys told me that one of their sons’ teachers in France counseled them not to talk about their French experience at all with new friends. I understand that advice but also know that we suffer a cramping of spirit when we bottle ourselves up like that.

Then we traveled on from France to our friends in England. Five years ago, this English family moved from London to our street in the States. Our kids went to school together and traveled back and forth between houses in a constant rotation. After four years of life in America it was time for them to move back. They settled into a delightful little village in Southwest England.

We had so much fun visiting our English friends a year after they left Seattle. In one especially poignant moment, I found all the kids huddled around the school yearbook we’d brought for them. The kids were so interested in seeing how everyone looked and hearing stories of what had happened since they’d left. When it was time for us to leave after two nights, there were tears on all sides. The mom of the family told her kids, “See, I told you your American friends would come visit.”

When I heard that, the tears welled up in me again. A feeling overcame me that was similar to when I see stories of long-lost friends reuniting, or blogger friends meeting in person. We are all more connected than we think. And when we honor the threads that bind us, we help complete each other’s tapestries in a beautiful way.

(featured photo from Pexels))

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram @wynneleon

Please check out the The Life of Try podcast Where trying becomes the spark for personal growth, discovery, and re-invention!

The Power of Kindness, Resilience and Trying Again

“During a crisis, the wise build bridges and the foolish build dams.” – Nigerian Proverb

My 10-year-old daughter has observed two things that are different in Europe – they count the ground floor as “0” and they often separate the toilet rooms from the sink rooms. But more than that, traveling has given us the chance to observe how unique people are from their language, to customs, and dress. It’s a fantastic exercise, especially for kids, in appreciating we are all different.

Books are another way to celebrate this uniqueness. So, in this inspiring episode of The Life of Try, I talk with author and educational advocate Kym Gordon Moore about her children’s book, Hennie and Her Poetry Eggs, a powerful story about courage, compassion, bullying prevention, purpose, and embracing what makes us different.

Through the story of Hennie, Kym invites children, parents, teachers, and adults to have meaningful conversations about social rejection, self-worth, empathy, literacy, and building bridges for people who may feel left out.

This conversation explores why standing out can feel vulnerable, how support from others helps us recognize our gifts, and why trying again after disappointment is part of growing into our purpose.

If you’re looking for encouragement, personal growth, children’s literature with a message, or a hopeful conversation about kindness and resilience, this episode offers a beautiful reminder that our differences can become the very thing that helps us shine.

Here are some other ways you can listen and watch this episode:

How to Stop Procrastinating and Start: The 10-Minute Rule for Taking Action – The Life of Try: Personal growth, one try at a time.

What if the key to overcoming procrastination isn’tfinishing—it’s simply starting? In this episode of The Life of Try,Wynne Leon shares a practical 10-minute strategy for beginning before you feel ready, taking imperfect action, and building momentum when a goal feels overwhelming.Explore why starting can feel so difficult, how the Zeigarnik effect may keep unfinished tasks active in your mind, and why one small first step can help you move forward with greater clarity and confidence. You’ll leave with a simple challenge: set a timer, make one imperfect move, and give yourself a clear next step.If you’re ready to stop procrastinating, get unstuck, and take action on something that matters, this episode is your invitation to begin. Then continue building momentum with How to Build Habits That Stick featuring Dr. Mike Rucker.What will you start today?
  1. How to Stop Procrastinating and Start: The 10-Minute Rule for Taking Action
  2. The Art of Meaningful Conversations: Lessons from 200 podcast episodes
  3. The Power of Saying Yes
  4. Growth Takes Energy| How Rest Helps Habits Stick
  5. When You Know You're Not Going to Make It

Links for this episode:

Embracing What Makes You Different | Kym Gordon Moore transcript

Hennie and Her Poetry Eggs on Amazon

Kym’s blog: From Behind the Pen

Other Episodes you Might Enjoy:

Near-Death Experience with Jesus | Liza Anderson on Faith, Healing & Recovery

How to Let Go of Expectations & Keep Trying | Personal Growth Mindset

How to Find and Share Your Unique Superpower | Roger Kastner on Purpose & Personal Growth

(featured photo from Pexels)

(quote from Real Life of an MSW – Wise Words)

How to Get Unstuck: Michael Yang on Saying Yes, Resilience and Coming Alive

“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” – Howard Thurman

When my daughter was two-and-a-half, I installed a seat on the back of my bike. I strapped her in and we pedaled around our neighborhood. She yelled, “this is fantastic!”

A pure jolt of energy and vitality shot threw me. For me, it was such a good example of the fullness of life that surges when we embrace the freedom that comes with getting out on two wheels. As a bonus, it reminded me of how easy it is to get stuck in the humdrum of life. And the cure is just an adventure (big or small) away.

So in this episode of The Life of Try podcast, I talk with tech entrepreneur and author Michael Yang about his memoir Coming Alive on the Ride and the way motorcycle travel became both a literal journey and a powerful metaphor for personal growth. Michael shares how stepping outside your familiar environment can help you hear “life’s invitation” to dream, venture, and rediscover what makes you feel fully awake.

Together we explore resilience through the Korean concept of han—the accumulated weight of difficult circumstances—and how setbacks can become fuel for perseverance. Michael reflects on immigrating from Korea at 14, building a life through gratitude and hard work, and learning (again and again) that rejection doesn’t have to be the end of the story.

From riding thousands of miles with a lifelong friend to a memorable run-in with Steve Jobs at Macy’s in 1982, Michael’s stories remind us that courage grows through companionship and curiosity. We also discuss the Korean guiding philosophy of Hongik—living in a way that benefits all humankind—and how our bravest tries can ripple outward in ways we may not expect.

In this episode, we cover:

  • Why “accepting the invitation” is simple—but the road rarely runs straight
  • Han, perseverance, and turning setbacks into strength
  • The immigrant mindset: gratitude, effort, and going for opportunity
  • Friendship as a confidence builder—on the road and in life
  • Curiosity, rejection, and holding onto a vision (plus the Steve Jobs story)
  • Hongik: living for the wider benefit and making a positive dent in the world

Here’s a small taste of Michael’s brave and bold reminder that saying “yes” to adventure often brings out our best selves:

Whether you’re craving a literal road trip or a fresh start at home, this conversation will nudge you toward your next brave yes.

Here are some ways you can listen and watch this motivating episode:

How to Stop Procrastinating and Start: The 10-Minute Rule for Taking Action – The Life of Try: Personal growth, one try at a time.

What if the key to overcoming procrastination isn’tfinishing—it’s simply starting? In this episode of The Life of Try,Wynne Leon shares a practical 10-minute strategy for beginning before you feel ready, taking imperfect action, and building momentum when a goal feels overwhelming.Explore why starting can feel so difficult, how the Zeigarnik effect may keep unfinished tasks active in your mind, and why one small first step can help you move forward with greater clarity and confidence. You’ll leave with a simple challenge: set a timer, make one imperfect move, and give yourself a clear next step.If you’re ready to stop procrastinating, get unstuck, and take action on something that matters, this episode is your invitation to begin. Then continue building momentum with How to Build Habits That Stick featuring Dr. Mike Rucker.What will you start today?
  1. How to Stop Procrastinating and Start: The 10-Minute Rule for Taking Action
  2. The Art of Meaningful Conversations: Lessons from 200 podcast episodes
  3. The Power of Saying Yes
  4. Growth Takes Energy| How Rest Helps Habits Stick
  5. When You Know You're Not Going to Make It

Links for this episode:

48-How to Get Unstuck: Michael Yang on Saying Yes, Resilience, and Coming Alive transcript

Michael Yang’s website

Coming Alive on the Ride at Barnes & Noble and Amazon

The Life of Try is a personal growth and self‑help podcast about getting unstuck, navigating uncertainty, and choosing to try—even when it’s uncomfortable, inconvenient, or not your idea.

Hosted by Wynne Leon, the show explores how real growth, reinvention, and discovery often begin not with confidence or clarity—but with a single attempt. Through thoughtful interviews, reflective conversations, and real‑world case studies, each episode examines what it looks like to keep going when doubt shows up, plans fall apart, or life forces a change you didn’t ask for.

This podcast is for anyone who:

  • Feels stuck or uncertain about what’s next
  • Is navigating change, burnout, or reinvention
  • Wants to live more intentionally without pretending growth is easy
  • Believes progress starts by trying—again and again

The Life of Try isn’t about hustle or perfection. It’s about learning as you go, surfacing what matters, and sharing what you discover along the way.

If you’re ready to surf the uncertainty, outlast the doubts, and step into your own try‑cycle, you’re in the right place.

(featured photo from Michael Yang — more incredible photos in his book and on his website!)

Lessons from Letting Go: Parenting Reflections

“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” – Winnie the Pooh

There’s a lot of grief that comes with parenting, isn’t there? And I’m not referring to the grief the kids give us. I’m talking about the variety that comes with letting go.

My 10-year-old daughter< Miss O, changed the wallpaper of my phone to be a rotation of pictures of her and her younger brother. Now every time I tap the phone, I see a picture of one of the two of them, usually as younger kids.

Along with the cute pictures comes the grief. It’s small but I feel a stab of knowing I’ll never hold them on my hip like that again. Or that the era of toddler speak that required Momma interpretation has ended. Or that we don’t have so many moments of un-self-conscious joy anymore. There are all sorts of things to mourn as I get that momentary hit of how much we’ve changed. As neuroscientist Maya Shankar explains, every change comes with a loss of identity.

When I leaned into the grief, I found three things blooming underneath.

Gratitude. My sister-in-law’s mom, Georgia, repeatedly told me a story when I first had kids. She said that when my sister-in-law was six or seven, she asked Georgia to play. Georgia laments that her reply was, “No, Honey, I’d rather read my book.”

I learned from that story to say “yes” so that I’m not talking about it when I’m 75-years-old. There have been many moments it has been hard to put down my book or stop progress on something I want to get done. But more or less, when my kids have said, “Mommy, look?” or “Mom, do you want to play ball?” I’ve said yes. So now when I feel the pangs of grief that come with letting go the younger selves of my kids, I also feel the gratitude for all the memories we have made and continue to make.

Learning. My kids have learned to walk, talk, ride a bike, read, play musical instruments, bat a ball and a myriad of other things. But the grief makes me realize how much I’ve learned as well. Things like that I had name my feelings so I could teach them how to name theirs. Also how to pitch baseballs, get grass stains from the ballfield out of pants, make slime, and clean slime from clothes too. These years have not only been full of memories but also lessons and growth too.

Faith. Miss O is heading to middle school next year. The horizon is already changing with boys, more complex relationships, and a wider circle of independent activities. The number of things I can’t control is growing exponentially larger every day.

Of course, I’ve never been able to control much. This whole journey of parenting has helped me lean into faith. To say “yes” to making memories, learning, loving and leading, and then leave the rest to God.

Grief is uncomfortable. Even the small “g” kind that I’m feeling these days. But underneath it is a whole lot of goodness that reminds me to lean in to creating a life worth growing out of.

(featured photo is Miss O and Mr. D in 2019)

The Long View of Life

“A heart that loves is always young.” – Greek Proverb

My kids and I attended a memorial service for a 98-year-old friend, Jean, this past weekend. There is a lot of life to honor when someone lives that long.

It’s tempting to do it by what she did: she was a mother to four children, a member of her church for more than 70 years, she was an elementary school teacher, and when she retired from teaching, chose to work at the information booth at the local mall for more than 20 years.

Or by what she loved: she loved to play bridge and to cook. She cooked for the church youth group every week for 4 years and then published a cookbook of how to feed large groups.

But what struck me most was the quality of her relationships. She made friends wherever she went. In fact, I didn’t get to know her well until she was in her 90’s. Jean made the effort to reach out to me with little things she passed along from her family to my kids. I wrote a post about her in 2021 when she gave me a copy of the cookbook she published in the 1980’s. There was a woman at the service who had been a friend of Jean’s for 94 years.

But Jean’s life wasn’t just a walk in the park. Forty years ago, one of her daughters was murdered by a stalker when she was in her late 20’s. Going through that ordeal was when Jean got to know my dad so I know she forged relationships in good times and in bad.

Here’s what I loved about going to Jean’s service. It was a reminder to me that even when life seems complicated, messy and hard, we make it through because of the relationships we build. And it’s never too late.

(featured photo from Pexels)

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram @wynneleon

Please check out the How to Share podcast, a podcast where guests share what they’ve lived and learned!