Daybook

Monday, August 17, 2026

I am trying to get these pages done before people start waking up and coming downstairs. Once that happens, there are conversations and questions and distractions, and often I simply don't make it back.

Dictation seems easier these days. I've mostly stopped caring how the words get onto the page. Maybe someday I'll return to the actual writer in me—the one who sits down and carefully chooses every word—but right now these pages are mostly about documenting the days.

And there is so much to document.

Rachel did well on Friday. I have notes scattered through Cozi that I need to print and put into her binder, along with all the other pieces of this chapter we're trying to preserve. Between my notes, CaringBridge, her journal, text messages and everything else, keeping up with it can feel like a job of its own.

But I keep thinking that someday we will want this record.

This is only a chapter. A hard and unwanted chapter, certainly, but still only a chapter.

Meanwhile, life keeps happening all around it.

We are less than two weeks from closing on Hyfield.

Less than two weeks.

That hardly seems possible.

John and I had a wonderful lunch date Saturday, and it turned out to be exactly what we needed. I wanted to get him away from the house, the television and everyone else long enough to really talk.

I came away from that conversation realizing that we are still dreaming the same dream—we've simply been looking at different parts of it.

John has been thinking ahead to the little house we eventually hope to build there. I've deliberately put that farther down the road and have been thinking about what we can begin doing almost immediately: exploring the property, deciding where things should grow, preparing planting areas and eventually moving some of what we already have here.

Neither of us wants to plant something only to dig it back up later.

We talked about simplifying Brookmeadow rather than continuing to make it into something it doesn't need to be. I want this house and yard to become easier. Peaceful. Manageable. A small garden can remain here, but I don't need to keep expanding everything.

Hyfield is where I want to cultivate the homestead.

And John is on board.

That made me ridiculously happy.

There are practical things to do before closing, of course. Mostly moving money where it needs to be and making sure everything is ready. There are agreements to share and details to settle.

But we're getting very close.

I've also begun imagining what our own house might feel like as life eventually settles into its next season.

I love having my family close.

I also miss some order in my house. 😂

Both things can be true.

There was also some news this weekend that made my heart particularly happy.

September 26 is a date that has represented something painful for Mandie and Dakota. They've decided they don't want to let that date keep belonging to the past. They want to intentionally make a new, happy memory on that day—something positive that can change what September 26 means to them going forward.

I love that.

There is something beautiful about deciding that a painful date doesn't get to own itself forever.

You can write something new on it.

And right now, I'm simply grateful for reconciliation and healing wherever God chooses to bring it.

Mandie also had another surprise for us.

Without Rachel or me knowing, she shared some of Rachel's story with her Facebook community and offered to make Breast Cancer Awareness ribbon earrings, with the proceeds going to Rachel.

The response has been extraordinary.

People have ordered and shared and supported her efforts, and Mandie plans to continue making the earrings throughout Rachel's treatment.

There are moments in all of this when people's generosity is simply humbling. Cancer has shown us things I wish we never had reason to see, but it has also shown us goodness in people that I don't want to forget.

As for ordinary life, I am discovering that I need to find my way back to some structure.

Walking needs to become non-negotiable. I've managed to build two habits into my mornings: making the bed with John and reading Scripture. Walking needs to join them.

Our food needs some attention too. Protein forward. Less processed sugar—or preferably none. I know how much better I feel when I eat that way.

And there are dozens of little jobs I could be doing in the pockets of time available to me: clean the van, pick tomatoes, replant the basil, plant sugar snaps.

Small things.

Maybe that's enough right now.

I don't need to accomplish everything. I can simply do the next available thing.

I came across an article about beginning homesteading in retirement and saved it to read more carefully.

That phrase still makes me smile a little.

Beginning homesteading in retirement.

Why not?

There is still so much life to cultivate.

Today I am grateful for...

Air conditioning. Always, always, always air conditioning.

Enough rain to keep things growing without drowning everything.

A husband who is still dreaming the same dream with me.

Reconciled relationships.

The astonishing generosity of people who love Rachel—and even people who have never met her.

The opportunity to replace painful memories with better ones.

And the reminder that God can take the chapters we would never have chosen and somehow use them to prepare us to love another person through theirs.

Life is very full right now.

Full of things I would change if I could.

Full of things I wouldn't change for anything.

And this morning, before the house wakes up, I am grateful for all of it.

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