Churchill Downs, 2026. Photo Credit: Emily Jennings

I don’t know much about horse racing, or any racing for that matter, but what I do know is a comeback when I see one.

Not more than 48 hours from returning home from my time in Maine, a friend invited me to a Kentucky Derby Themed Birthday party. Of course, I said ‘yes’, which will most likely be my answer now after being away for the ‘worst winter on recent records’.

There was even an optional pool to place a bet. We pulled numbers. I picked 19.

I looked him up on the internet, and it showed he was not favored and his odds of winning poor.

When the race started, I saw ‘my’ horse in last place. I began to root for my friends’ chances, as I was out.

Then, to my surprise, and to all those watching, Jose Ortiz, took the outside passing all to take first place.

I am not a sportswriter, but it was phenomenal, and coming from the outside, the most difficult route, made this comeback even more incredible.

I also learned that his trainer was the first woman who ever won, and that his brother came in second. What a historic moment!

I was happy for my cash prize too.

I really had to let all that goodness sink in. The more I learned about the significance of that win, I could not help but be in awe of all it represents, not just to the participants, but to all of us.

You see, we all want a miracle, and our own comeback.

I am ready for mine.

Returning to Florida so far has been a blessing, and I am at peace.

I know God has a new story for me, and I am here for it.

Thank you so much for your prayers and support while I was away. God is good! And I am confident His hand is on our lives.

As I navigate returning home, and all that entails, I appreciate your patience with the frequency and length of my articles. I have SO many ideas in mind. Stay with me.

With Love,

Stephanie

When I decided to winter in Maine this year, I didn’t quite know what to expect. What I needed was time away to process my thoughts and find out who I am now, as an empty nester and widow. I received that space, and so much more.

I received joy.

Unexpected joy.

You see, my identity, my plans, my day to day, all changed. There was a point early on that I doubted my strength. I doubted my ability to create a new life.

I still struggle from time to time, and I suppose that feeling will ebb and flow the rest of my lifetime.

But… there has been a distinct breakthrough.

I can find joy now, not just sometimes, but most of the time. I am thankful.

I could read you a laundry list of ways I have survived these months, but you have probably heard them all by now. There is the ‘stick to a regular bedtime, hydrate, exercise, and the never-ending counsel to EAT MORE PROTEIN’. Ok, I ate the protein, but occasionally with a side of Chardonay. Cheers!

Although all the above helped my healing some, the magic came when I accepted a position at the local elementary school in my hallmark of a town. I was blessed to be hired as an after-care teacher to oversee afternoon fun for a group of amazing students from kindergarten through fourth grade.

Of all my years of making a living, THIS is my very favorite job of all time. I know that sounds dramatic, but it is true!

Spending my afternoons with these precious, rather rambunctious, and downright darling children, has turned my sadness into a smile. When I am there, I am so present, so engaged, and so free from my own circumstances.

My mind and my body remembered joy and what it felt like, before my great loss. And somehow, like a thermostat, my setpoint changed.

My normal again is joy. And it will remain there. I claim that as my truth.

So, here’s to fresh starts in unexpected places. May joy find you there too.

With Love,

Stephanie

This past weekend was beyond healing. I had an opportunity to host out of state friends here in Maine. To share this place, and have them experience how I overcame here, is irreplaceable. In my hard season, they came to find me.

Through lots of laughs, and the occasional tears, we made good memories. One moment sure to always stand out will be when one friend exclaimed, “That’s a Blue Warbler!!”

She ran to the window shouting again, “That’s a Blue Warbler!!”

We ran to the window to join her excitement. I saw it! (or at least I believed I had!!)

She rushed back to the sofa and pulled out her phone eagerly looking up the sweet bird. You see, she had known the significance and rarity of this sighting.

Its meaning confirmed in my heart what I had already been experiencing here in this place.

She read from her research, “Blue Warblers symbolize peace, optimism, new beginnings, upcoming joy, good news.”

I’ll take it!!

My friends have since left, but I will continue to look for the bird as I prepare for my own migration too.

I also thought how fitting this sighting is in relation to Holy Week. Growing up Catholic, followed by attending a Catholic University, has always put Easter as a central holiday in my life.

Particularly as a child, my family and I spent so much time in church from Lent through Resurrection Sunday. I miss those days. My practice is different now, but my love for Jesus remains steadfast.

The Blue Warbler sighting reminded me of when Mary Magdalene discovered Jesus in the Garden, instead of the tomb. Her sighting changed history. The miracle of the Resurrection represents the same avian attributes “…peace, optimism, new beginnings, upcoming joy, good news.”

I’ll take it!

Happy Easter, my friends. Remember, when all seems dark and hopeless, things can change in just a matter of days.

Thank you for subscribing to Ever After. As I tackle many projects here in Maine before I leave, my publications may be few, but I will surely catch up in Sunny Florida. Thank you for your patience and faithfulness.

With Love,

Stephanie

When I headed north in October, I was unsure of many things. Today, I am still unsure of many things, but I have come through.

I have not come through barely standing, I have come through knowing I am a woman of tremendous resilience, and with an indelible spirit.

I am not the same person I was before my great loss, but I have a deeper appreciation of life and love, their gift and limits.

I have learned that you can hold both grief and hope together in your heart. I learned I can be both scared and strong.

I can remember Kev’s good days, and forget the hard. I will always remember the magic of our love, and our connection against all odds.

After nearly seven months in my ‘home away from home,’ I am preparing to say goodbye to my lovely, rented lake cottage, thankful for all the solace it provided.

I believe I followed my path, and God healed me here. Maine with all its beauty and splendor gave me a winter unimagined. The snowy days, and long dark nights, gave way to sobs so sad, and silent. You know the kind. There were times my heart hurt so much I wondered if I would make it until morning. I did.

Peace came with purpose.

I was there for Kev when he needed me most, and it was a privilege. The children and I were his everything. He led our family well, and left it ‘all on the field.’ I am proud of him.

I am southbound soon. Back to my 904. I am ready.

As the days grow longer, and the temperatures warmer, I too have experienced a change. My grief has lifted for the most part, like a divine gift. The heaviness has turned light. It is hard to explain, which is why I know this gift is from above.

None of us know how short our window is in life. I will number my days, accept fate gracefully, and embrace the future with an open hand.

If you are the praying kind, please remember me as I travel home to Florida late April. There is much to do yet, and many miles ahead.

Thank you for all the love and support you have given our family over these past several years. We appreciate you.

With Love,

Stephanie

Today is our wedding anniversary.

It was such a special day. I had waited for that moment for many, many years.

I am so thankful we married and became a family. Kevin was the most loving husband and devoted father.

I celebrate our love today!

Kev and I met at a New Year’s Eve party in 1996. We were married on March 14, 2014. Although we went our separate ways for some time, we were soulmates and found our way back to each other.

One of the precious gifts that Kevin left me was how he remembered our love story in his last days.

We had a huge care team in our home those weeks. As Kev introduced me to each new team member, he would say, “This is my wife, Stephanie – followed by different versions of, “I would not be here if it wasn’t for her.”

And then on Hospice intake day, the Director asked Kev how long we had been married. And he answered, “30 years.”

My heart leaped like a schoolgirl, my eyes tear up to this day, thinking about that answer. You see, Kevin was a gifted architect and math was his strength. I knew it was his heart now doing the math!!

I am so glad that he felt loved and cherished, and that he parted with that love in his heart.

Kevin and I loved to slow dance at home, in the kitchen, by our fire pit, or anywhere else music played.

One of our love songs was: True Companion by Marc Cohn

The final stanza has come true.

“When the years have done irreparable harm

I can see us walking slowly arm in arm

Just like that couple on the corner do, cause

Girl I will always be in love with you

When I look in your eyes

I’ll still see that spark

Until the shadows fall

Until the room grows dark

Then when I leave this Earth

I’ll be with the angels standin’

I’ll be out there waiting for my true companion

Just for my true companion

True companion”

The sky on the day of Kev’s passing by Astrophotographer, Katelyn Beecroft.

God continues to wake me every morning. His mercies are always new!

I will carry Kev’s love in my heart, knowing, he is ‘with the angels standing, out there, waiting for me, his true companion.’

With Love,

Stephanie

I love to look at this island from our new shoreline. I’ve never been on there. I hear that is where eagles make their home.

I’ll look for them.

When I decided to winter in Maine this year, I knew I would be putting physical distance between myself and where I experienced my great loss.

Moving locations has been one of the ways I have healed my whole life, and it turns out that this approach has been helpful again.

You see, this loss, and this move, has been different than all the rest. I did not move to escape, hide, or start over from scratch so to speak.

This time, I didn’t choose a random spot on the map, I chose a special spot, a place that means so much to our family.

I can vouch that running to feels much better than running from. It is intentional, specific and purposeful.

When we have purpose, we can keep going, even if we must white knuckle it some days.

My love, Kevin, introduced me to Maine in 1997. It has been a place where we have experienced abundant joy and fun times. It just felt right to spend this first year without him here surrounded by these beautiful memories.

And, there is no Mayo Clinic here.

Of course, this winter, ‘they’ say has been one of the toughest on record. I agree it has been the hardest, but for me - the emotional healing has been more intense than the weather.

I long for spring, in my heart, and in the region. The grief is lifting some, if only in spurts, but I know I am meant to dwell there in the lift, and light.

Life is so short. Cliché, I know, but I think once you have witnessed another human ‘leaving’, you are never the same about living.

Our mortality is real, and potentially close.

Now, that I have entered a new decade, I see things differently. I am comfortable with more wrinkles and grays, but I am not comfortable seeing announcements of my classmates passing on.

We must live now. We are not promised tomorrow. If we cling too hard to the past, we will miss what is happening in the present, and what is in store for us in the future.

We can keep that love in our heart, but let go of the pain.

C.S. Lewis said it this way: “Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars. You have to let go at some point to move forward.”

It is a process, I know. Some days will feel easy, and some days will feel like being back at square one.

The secret is to keep going.

If this has been a challenging season for you too, I see you. You will make it. We will make it.

Let’s dig deep, rest when weary, and push through to the other side of this sorrow.

Your person wants that for you.

Personally, I do not believe they ‘see’ us literally, but I do believe the memories serve as their present-day love.

Keep the faith, cherish this love, take care of yourself on good days and bad.

Also, set your clock forward tonight.

The timing fits. Enjoy!

With Love,

Stephanie

So, I am claiming that progress today, as I round the six-month mark of my great loss.

I am climbing out of my sadness. In full transparency, my body physically and emotionally, cannot bear its weight any longer.

One day, I was served a video ‘reel’ (from my cell spying, no doubt), letting me know you can die of a broken heart.

I believe that to be true.

In medical terms, it is called: Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy.

I have a responsibility to Kevin, our children, and myself to be well, and to not leave before my appointed time.

You see, my own father died of a sudden and fatal heart attack at just age 50. That knowing has always played in the background of my life for years.

I know grief will always be tucked away in my heart, but I must see it as love now instead.

I was so blessed to be Mrs. Kevin Connors for the length of time God allowed. I believe the Lord foreknew Kev’s diagnosis and suffering; and that Kev would need me.

And I needed him.

The time has come to turn sorrow into thanksgiving, and tears into remembrance.

My Hospice Counselor, who I met with recently, shared that I should aim to do planned or intentional grieving now. I should take short periods of time, with a designated activity that celebrates Kev, and remember him. Cry, perhaps smile, or simply be present.

Here are some ideas I have for these special times. If you were blessed to know Kev, send me your ideas.

1) Have a root beer, maybe even an ice cream float (Kev LOVED these!)

2) Watch an Andy Griffith, maybe followed by a Star Trek. (Kev’s favorites!)

3) Of course, cheer on any Boston Sports Team. (The Bruins were his favorite!)

4) Call one of his friends and reminisce. (He had SO many!)

5) Take a ‘Winter Wonderland’ walk at night. (Kev LOVED a good snowstorm!)

6) Head to Pleasant Mountain, maybe ski the bunny slope- after a lesson. (Kev was an AMAZING skier and he grew up skiing Pleasant Mountain, formerly Shawnee Peak.)

7) Crank some Bruuuuuce Springsteen in the house. (Kev’s all-time favorite performer!)

8) Sit on my porch and watch the starry night, and maybe he will be watching too. (Kev was always fascinated with astronomy and he had the coolest constellation app on his phone.)

9) Swim in Sebago Lake. (Kev was in this lake at 8 days old! It was his favorite spot on earth – which explains why I am here!)

10) Fish. I don’t really have this skill because I always read a book next to Kev while he fished, but it was by far his favorite hobby. (Note to self – call Kane, his fishing bud, and former roomy to join me.)

Oh, how I could go on with all the ways I could commemorate my love. Thank you for indulging me here.

I am looking forward to your thoughts.

With Love,

Stephanie

“There is a land of the living and a land of the dead and the bridge is love, only survival, the only meaning.” - Thorton Wilder

I couldn’t believe it. I mean I knew that leap year was only every so many years, but I never appreciated that adjustment before now. You see, my great loss happened on August 29, 2025.

The six-month mark would be approaching. In fact, I just assumed February 29, 2026 would be THE day. When I looked at the calendar and I realized this is not one of those years, I kind of panicked.

I had to acknowledge, live through, and cry out on this day. What now? How would I mark this moment without a 29^th on the calendar?

I feel a bit robbed, and maybe relieved at the same time.

Is this a way of saying not to wallow that day? Is it a sign that it may all just be too much?

The date I have dreaded is technically not there, but it still exists. I don’t know how I will feel until I wake up tomorrow, but I do know that I am a different person because of this ‘anniversary’.

These six months have taken every bit of strength I have gained over a lifetime.

“They will still bear fruit even in old age…” Psalm 92:14 ISV

I am not ready to identify as ‘old’ yet, but I am banking on this promise.

I have so much to be thankful for in my life. I know that to be true.

I am blessed, and I am sad. Both are real to me, daily. I waffle, but land on blessed most days.

Kev would want me to be healed and whole, happy and at peace. I will get there.

In the meantime, I appreciate your support, and friendship.

You are the best.

With Love,

Stephanie

I have asked myself recently if knowing an outcome is in our best interest. I typically hold this perspective with simple things, like following a recipe, calling an old friend, or even hitting the gym. But, what about those outcomes that will hurt, or that we just plain don’t want to know?

Kev and I approached his diagnosis differently. And that’s ok. I really wouldn’t change a thing about that approach, except the outcome.

Kev trusted the medical professionals completely. He was ‘all in’ and followed their every instruction to the letter.

You see, Kev was a talented architect. He was proud of the education and effort it took to obtain his license and build his firm. Kev thought of the medical professionals that same way. He believed in their schooling and oath. He was comfortable and confident in their care. I was in awe of his trust.

I also believe in science and medicine, but I HAD to be doing more. As a wife, and my husband’s “helpmeet,” I felt called to research everything and anything to come alongside him and his treatment plan.

I would always be showing him this Dr’s video, or that Dr’s article. I would serve the latest and greatest nutritional breakthroughs. There were the purple yams, broccoli sprouts, and supplements I couldn’t pronounce.

Kev would ebb and flow between standing his ground, and appeasing me and my ‘miracle of the week.’

In the end, what really mattered was we both fought as hard as we could, in our own way.

I learned a lot in the process, way more than I ever wanted to know about cancer, about hospice, about death and loss.

So, if I had known the outcome, if we had known the outcome, I think that the battle years would have been harder, and sadder.

I know too well that “Hope deferred makes the heart sick….” Proverbs 13:12 NKJV

Now, don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t in denial. With all my research, and scouring of reports and scans, I knew what was coming - the pain, the change, the silence.

Kev didn’t want to know his prognosis, and he never even had a conversation with his Drs. about it until about two weeks out.

He was strong, and so brave.

I think no matter how deep our faith, we probably all have a bit of trepidation about the ‘transition.’

Kev was my protector, my covering, my great love, and best friend. He has, even now, led the way in this part of our story.

In the last weeks, Kev said he told his mom that he was sick. His precious mom died years earlier.

I am confident she met Kev there. And he will meet me one day too.

As I ponder it all, knowing is just too hard and too heavy. God is able to carry our past, and orchestrate our future.

Perhaps, we should just let life unfold, without agenda or hurry. I am considering.

With Love,

Stephanie

I can think of no better place to be than Portland, Maine for my first Valentine’s Day without Kev. The ‘bandit’ struck again overnight, spreading the message of love throughout the city.

According to the Spectrum News article from April 24, 2023, in the late 1970’s, the artist, Kevin Fahrman, began posting simple white pieces of paper with red hearts on the windows of businesses downtown on February 13^th so residents could wake up to love on Valentine’s Day.

The identity of the secret ‘bandit’ was not revealed until Kevin Fahrman’s death on April 21, 2023.

The tradition has been continued by his family and community members with the slogan “Be a Kevin” as the holiday theme.

Beautiful. Timely.

Today, has been the hardest holiday yet for me.

I am thankful to have had a great love, and to have celebrated to the fullest all the Valentine’s we had together. They were really something.

And, just when I thought the day was lost, my sweet neighbors made this delivery and invited me to their family dinner.

“God is close to the brokenhearted.” Psalm 34:18.

Despite all my heart breaks, and the topsy-turvy of this world, I still believe.

Thank you all for your patience as I walk through this season.

Our Anniversary is March 14th, and I expect that day to be heavy too.

But spring is coming.

I wait expectantly for new beginnings and to see what will bloom in my life.

So, friends, enjoy this day, embrace love, and remember to “Be a Kevin.”

With Love,

Stephanie

You would think ‘the holidays’ would have been the toughest time, but out of nowhere I realized these BIG three will be the hardest. They are personal, and hold a special spot in my heart.

1) Superbowl.

When the Pats won the AFC Championship this year, I felt a mix of elation, and sadness.

Although I grew up in another sports town (Pittsburgh, PA), I am a Patriots fan by marriage, and now location. Kev loved his Pats and rooted for them no matter where or when.

The game this year also happened to take place during a HUGE snowstorm where the Lakes Region saw some 14 inches of snow. So, with a Pats win, and snow falling, I knew Kev would have just LOVED that winter day!

GO Pats!

Pats attire, lobster, and a summer day in Maine.

2) Valentine’s Day.

Though hokey for some, I love this day. And I LOVE love!

Kev and I had lots of wonderful dates and made so many beautiful memories. He hated crowds, and I would often suggest we celebrate on an alternate evening. He insisted on February 14. He was a romantic at heart. He always showered me with roses and gushy cards.

I have every one of them.

Date night, River and Fort, St. Augustine, Florida

3) Wedding Anniversary.

March 14th is our wedding anniversary. I suspect this will be the hardest day of all. Anniversaries are distinctive, and have their own individual beginning. They mark the moment of joining families, and starting a new branch. They are special, and as unique as the couple themselves.

Marrying Kev was answer to prayer, like none other. It was a ‘pinch me…is this real?’ sort of day.

If you know our story, then you know how long awaited this day was in our lives. xo

I’m bracing.

~~~~~~

I’m glad spring is eventually around the corner, and that it falls just SIX days after our anniversary.

Though still in the thick of my winter solace, and healing, I sense new life will bloom. It’s dormant now, but seeds of hope and a brighter future are there.

Until then, I will grieve, intentionally, when the moment calls me to slow down and remember. I will take good care of myself, inside and out. And I will pray and wait expectantly for good things to come.

I pray renewal for you too.

With Love,

Stephanie

Although I knew the forecast, when I checked the weather app, seeing ‘feels like’ -20 degrees F almost literally took my breath away.

I have never been in colder weather, and I had to stop for a second to make sure this wasn’t a fever dream of some sorts, especially when my actual home is in sunny Florida.

Don’t get me wrong. Maine has been good to me. I am not complaining. It is more of an observation, than anything. Here, I have become stronger, more self-reliant, contemplative, and clear. I am so glad I made this choice for this season.

The days pre-storm are always the most precarious to me. Is there enough food? Snacks? Sweets? Beer?

Everyone has their own comfort they want during a storm, or in the days to follow. ‘They’ have predicted 18 inches here, so I have stocked up and have all my bases covered.

The snowfall is, hopefully, the light and fluffy type so we can be free quickly when the storm subsides, in a day or so.

Time will go by relatively fast, I think, as I have lots to write, lots to read, and there’s the overdue home workouts, too.

In the stillness, and the silence of snow, my thoughts often run just as calm and deep. Like the windchill, my inner world is less transparent. It is far more intense, far more aware and candid than what meets the eye.

I am sure I could say the same about most people. Maybe what we present, is not our ‘feels like’ self.

I think I am a genuine person, no matter the crowd, or lack thereof, yet I am becoming even more authentic as time passes. It’s not a pivot per se, but a closer alignment.

Gone are any traces of “I’m great! And you?”, when my heart is breaking inside.

Gone is saying ‘yes’, when I mean ‘no’ or at best ‘maybe.’

Getting older is an adventure, and definitely a privilege. Time is precious. We should examine the trade.

I have not lived on my own for almost 30 years. This is all SO new to me. It’s not what I chose, or prefer, but I am learning to live life, one day at a time.

I believe we can be real with ourselves and each other. That is how we will grow individually, and collectively.

It’s only in knowing ourselves well can we truly communicate honestly and effectively. Sharing hopes and fears, dreams and disappointments is part of what makes us close.

Authenticity builds bridges and brings understanding. Grace too.

We can get there.

With so much happening around us, what is your ‘feels like’ temperature these days?

Leave a comment

We can choose any emotion. I’ll look for love.

Thanks for riding out the storm with me.

I’ll catch you on the other side.

With Love,

Stephanie

It just hit me the other day, as I was driving around after a snowstorm, that everywhere I look reminds me of a postcard. You see, I have always enjoyed living in beautiful places and in the climate of my choosing, but now it feels nonnegotiable.

I mean, I know it’s hard to pick up everything and move to a new place, but I have self-medicated this way for some time now. Well, for a long time.

Hmmm. ..

Heartbreak #1:

Wildwood, NJ (summer break) to Dayton, OH (for college) to Ocean City, MD (summer break again). Repeat.

Heartbreak #2:

Dayton, OH to Clearwater, FL – now THAT was a big one!

Heartbreak #3

Clearwater, FL to my hometown of Pittsburgh, PA and then back to Florida.

So on, and so forth. You get the picture.

The Sunshine State has been good to me.

Now - Florida to Maine, that was for the unfathomable loss. It happened and here I am.

I realize I CAN’T keep repeating this pattern. Or can I? Personally, I think distraction is underrated and even useful for a while.

I suppose it is time to stop this strategy. There is just some pain you can’t outrun. You sort of learn just to let it jog alongside you.

Maybe we can face our fears, our heartaches from right where we live. Perhaps we could find our ‘postcards’ simply by opening our eyes and seeing beauty around us, no matter our address.

Viewing life through a new lens will take practice. We must redirect our focus to see the good, in people and places.

When we use a fresh filter, we can reframe the scene. And in the end, it’s really the way we frame our experiences that become our reality.

You know, we can write or rewrite our story anytime.

Marrying Kevin was an undeniable answer to prayer. He was the love of my life. I thank God for being Mrs. Connors, even if our time together was cut short.

I also believe that I was meant to be there for him in his hardest hour. I am thankful I could care for him to his very last breath.

So, I have started to turn my grief into gratitude. It’s not easy, but I see a glimmer of light.

Speaking of light…

We are having record low temperatures, but with that comes the opportunity to see the Aurora Borealis, which is a dream of mine to witness.

I see my neighbors posting their sightings. I wonder why I can’t see these incredible Northern Lights.

Then, I read in the comments that we are seeing the Aurora Borealis in the photos, and not with the naked eye. The pictures were taken with a camera, with just the right lens.

When you look around this week, remember the Northern Lights, and consider there may be beauty hidden that has not been revealed yet.

Let’s keep looking!

With Love,

Stephanie

“Life gets mighty precious when there’s less of it to waste.” – Bonnie Rait

I had a little setback of fear and self-pity earlier this week. Thankfully, over a course of a lifetime, I have gained the skills to pull myself out of ‘the pit’ quickly. I guess trauma and tragedy can do that to a person. Ugh, there I go again….

Hopefully, my vulnerability helps you feel less alone. You know, we have more in common, than not, or so I think.

This is not a religious piece, and I do my best to steer clear of divisive topics, but I cannot not recognize that a relationship with say ‘a higher power’ helps us feel accompanied.

For me, I choose Jesus.

Losing the love of my life, just 34 days before my 60^th birthday, was an emotional collision of sorts. The reality of the length of life was front and center.

Planning the service was raw, exhausting, and yet healing. The faces who helped and attended were a comfort, heroes. That 34-day window was a wake-up call like none other. The gift of life, and the awareness of its brevity came flooding in.

It hasn’t left me.

There are some, I realize, who may not understand my pace, my choices, my desire to put ‘things’ in place as though Kev was here by my side, but from inside my shoes, I am right on time.

I have had to battle a lot; I have won some and lost some too. Of all the life lessons, grasping the truth of our mortality has been the most powerful.

And now that I have seen and faced its reality head on, it’s magic. It is the superpower that is getting me through, and getting me by.

I am thankful for this perspective and newness of life.

If you are stuck, in a place of ‘meh’, or just feeling post-holiday blues, I hope you join me in this quest to squeeze out the best and rest of our days. May they be many!

Who’s in?

With Love,

Stephanie

When Shelby showed up at our front door, I belly laughed, thinking about how innate the need for companionship is in life, no matter the species. As our furry neighbor waited for our Bindi to come outside to play, I experienced a surprisingly new understanding of how deeply we all need connection.

To continue where I left off in my ‘Unexpected’ piece, I am knee deep in reflection and designing. As I work through grief, the missing and the mess, I know I must not go it alone.

Of course, a professional therapist, is helpful to process our thoughts and steer us when we are heading in a wrong direction. They have degrees, and expertise, and a comfy couch.

But, nothing or no one replaces true friends. Today’s piece is a tribute to the people who surrounded Kevin and me and our children over the last two plus years. Kevin was diagnosed on October 27, 2023. That is a long time to stand by a person and a family.

Thank you will never adequately express how much I appreciate the friends in our lives. I love them, and I am so grateful.

They were not the occasional text and check in friends. They were hands on, sacrificial people who were irreplaceable then, and continue to be.

Even as I make new friends now, in my healing, ‘hiding’ place, I will always hold dear and keep our ‘battlefield’ friends close.

You are warriors, angels, protectors, and chosen kin. Truly.

Thank you.

You did not allow us to walk this path alone, and your faithfulness to stay with me now is relentless, and rare.

So, if you are in this group of amazing human beings, I love you, I see you. Your unwavering support has seen us through the hardest of times.

You have sown the seeds of selfless days, and standby nights. May you be blessed sevenfold.

I am here for you too.

With Love,

Stephanie

Well, the children left, the gifts are gone, the turkey and stuffing too. The Christmas tree will linger as long as I want to hold onto the season. I switched to artificial this year, so what is the hurry, right?

February 9^th is my daughter’s birthday. That is my next ‘holiday.’ I am one who loves a celebration on the calendar, or a trip, or at least an oil change or Doctor’s appointment.

I will add more fun this year. That’s a declaration.

Speaking of Dr’s Appointments, I started to see a therapist. I went to help me process my grief and take next steps. I really didn’t want to go per se, I figured though it was as much a part of the ‘settling’ as an administrative obligation.

So far, so good, though it is a little out of my comfort zone. The main work he is asking of me is to find out ‘Who Stephanie is now?’

Unexpected.

I just don’t know that answer and frankly I hate even going there. My identity, after Christ Follower, has been Kevin’s wife, mother of Abigail and Michael, homemaker, homeschool mom, friend.

He even went so far as saying I was Kevin’s wife, and we had a beautiful marriage, and now I am a single woman who needs to re-nest. WOAH! Hold on a sec….

He even wants me to find a hobby and make friends from that hobby, or even hobbieS (plural).

What?! Hobby? Hobbies? My family has been my hobby.

He said, (of course), I will always be a mother, and friend, but ‘Who am I as an individual?’

I am at a loss. He suggested an adult education class, reasonable, and with a wide variety of choices. I am to just start trying things. Like I won’t know I like something unless I try it.

This is a great time for suggestions here……

Leave a comment

I really just wanted to go and cry, and have my feelings validated, but it looks like I have even more work to do than that.

Recreate, reinvent, and actually learn to LOVE my new life. I don’t know if I am up to this task, but I am going to follow his advice and try.

I would rather be here with Kev and be his wife. I get so MAD sometimes having to do this life now without him, but this is my lot.

I guess any change is hard, and this is perhaps the hardest. It is not the life I expected or wanted, but this is my hand.

Oh, and did I mention…. He even wants me to exercise! I do go to Planet Fitness regularly and dabble in some home routines. I haven’t gone in a while, but I like Yoga and Pilates. Mostly, he is suggesting I come to enjoy exercise and even make friends there.

I don’t’ know. I am just learning to drive in the snow for heaven’s sake.

Anyway, here I am. Is there anyone out there that also needs to ‘find themselves’ and start over?

Let’s do this together. Here for you.

With Love,

Stephanie

New Year’s Eve is my all-time favorite holiday! I love everything about it. The goal setting, the turning of a page, the leaving behind, the whole reset. I am all about that mindset, a fresh start, the annual do-over.

I also love that NYE is universal. Everyone experiences a January 1. No matter location, culture, or religion, we all get that Day One. It feels like a level playing field, like the same blank slate. And for a split second, we seem to all be on the same team.

NYE is more though. It is also the holiday that I met Kev. My love and I met at a NYE’s party in 1996. Coincidence maybe, fate I believe.

2026.

I don’t know what fate has in store for me now. I have no particular expectations. I want to be healthy, happy, and healed. And I am working hard on all three.

I don’t want to be hurried, or rushed. I want time to go slow.

I want to trust my own decisions, and feel confident that they are smart, and for my highest good. I want to self-preserve while building a legacy.

I want to laugh more, and worry less. I want to feel secure, but challenged in new ways.

I want to remember some of 2025, but set aside the rest. It was too much.

I want to create more, and cry less.

I don’t know where I call home anymore. I want to figure that out.

I am thankful for this life, the gift of love, and the acceptance of loss.

I will give 2026 my all. Whatever that looks like, I am ready.

So, here’s to a memorable midnight, and a courageous dawn.

Slainte!

With Love,

Stephanie

In this year of ‘firsts,’ I suspect Christmas especially will be full of wavering emotions. It is six days out. There is still shopping to do, packages to wrap, and a menu to plan. Before overwhelm tries to steal the merriness, I set about listing a few ideas to get me through the holidays and lift my spirits when necessary.

I thought I would share them with you.

1) It’s optional. If this is the year that you stay in, stay to yourself, stay silent- that’s ok. Embrace it for what it is this year, and emerge when you are ready. Enjoy your own company. Read a good book and perhaps a cozy fire. Sleep late, eat well, rest and renew.

2) Uncover your why. People celebrate this time of year for a variety of reasons. Our family observes Christmas as a Holy Day celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ. It’s our reason for the season as ‘they’ say.

I love it all – the candlelight service, the gifts, my traditional Ukrainian dishes, and the ‘milk and cookies’. I even love the last-minute shopping, endless wrapping, the exhaustion, and the clean-up.

3) Be curious. I have always loved to learn about God, and the different ways people love Him. I have grown even more intrigued as I grow older. The world is made up of so many lovely people and fascinating cultures. Make a friend outside of your tradition and share your heritage with each other. Engaging and learning will take your eyes off of you (and any holiday blues). You will both be richer for it.

4) Stay Grateful. Just recently, I was invited to a daily morning gratitude group text. It came just in time. Instead of looking at what I have lost, I am intentionally looking at what I have now. I can’t change the reality of this year’s events, but I can choose to appreciate what and who I have in my life today. Each morning, I am greeted by graceful and grateful women, and I share a couple things I am grateful for in my life. There is so much!

5) Say ‘yes’! If invited, say ‘yes’! Of course, that contradicts #1, but I nudge you to perhaps reconsider at least one outing over the holiday season. You will probably be glad you did, and if not, you will enjoy your downtime even more.

6) Decorate. Whether it is an elaborate Christmas tree, or just a new scented candle, add something special to your home. May it be a reminder of hope and promises to come.

7) Get Outside. Regardless of the temperatures and conditions, step outside for some morning sun. Breathe deep and smile. You will never be this age again or live this day over. Savor.

8) Connect. Even if you live alone, reach out. One text exchange or phone call per day is a must. A video call a plus! Surround yourself with positive people who will stand in the gap for you and lift you up. Genuine, nice humans are out there – make them your circle. I learned the ‘5 in 5’ rule from Jenny Allen, author of “Find Your People.” She suggests you should have 5 besties in 5 miles. Amazing! Creating a supportive community is essential no matter what time of year. My friends were life savers over the past couple of years. Love them!

9) Take the time. If you have suffered a great loss this year, like our family, be sure to set aside some time to remember your loved one. Whether in private, a group setting, or perhaps in a counseling office, be sure not to suppress your emotions. Find a way that works for you. It is your journey. Do not let anyone tell you how you should feel or move on. It’s personal, and heavy, but you are strong – more than you know.

Well, I hope these ideas are helpful and that you are able to focus on the joy of the season. Please feel free to share any of your own ideas in the comments. I appreciate your thoughts.

Thank you for your outrageous support this year. May 2026 be filled with light and love, joy and hope, and healthy, happy days.

Cheers!

Our Anniversary Toast on our community pier in St. Augustine. xo

With love,

Stephanie Connors

I’ve been spoiled here. Ever since my arrival in Maine, I have witnessed the sun rising every morning slowly above the horizon on the lake. Clear and crisp, wondrous, and bright. A taste of the day ahead, I would think.

The beauty would inspire me, reminding me this is a season of fresh starts, and writing new chapters. Having to design a life now, different than planned, is a monumental undertaking, but I would receive a fresh perspective when I opened my blinds any given morning.

Then, something changed.

Sunny dawns gave way to fog so thick that I now struggle to even see the sunrise at all. I mean, I know it’s there. I know the sun is still beaming behind the puzzling vapor. Of course!

It is our basic constant in life, right? The one sure thing all of us share, and place hope in.

“Tomorrow is a new day,” Emerson writes. I am a fan.

Daybreak, and the possibilities, it offers has gotten me through hard times, and sleepless nights. I count on this law of nature. It is reliable and consistent. Never questioned.

So, what now? What now when the sun is hidden and we can longer feel its warmth?

Though I understand the basic science of this change and contrast, I believe there is more. It is complex in a way that calls for study.

Perhaps this scene reflects our inner life, like nature can read our minds somehow and show us the way to hold on, and begin again.

You see, this dewy steam is formless, and shifting, and dissipates in time- like emotions and circumstances, good or bad, all are temporary.

“This too shall pass,” the familiar adage teaches us.

If you look closely, look long enough, you will see the breakthrough. The sun (and joy) are present, even when invisible. There is light behind the veil.

Trust.

Joy can appear in unexpected ways – an easy parking spot, a promotion, a new friend.

I don’t’ know if this season will be harsh, or long, both, or neither. I have heard the theories, but I am open to what’s meant to be.

With love,

Stephanie

I didn’t know this would be our last Christmas in Maine together, yet, here we are, or here I am.

When I settle in and ‘visit’ Kev in my pictures, what I miss most is the joy pre-diagnosis.

I get glimpses of that joy now and then. I am grateful.

I’m trying.

I’ve never had a loss like this before, and frankly, I don’t know what I’m doing. But what I can tell you with certainty, is the brevity of life is real.

I’m not sure this is the lesson that was intended, but this loss has inspired me to live so well. Not in an ‘above my means’ sort of way, but just the savoring of time and people.

Precious.

I trust God to take care of me, though I’m scared. Part of me figures that if I can survive a Maine winter, I can survive anything.

People keep saying “he is with you.” Well, one day I just woke up believing, he is not.

That may anger you, but it calms me.

I just think ‘resting in peace’ would not mean watching your daughter struggle, or your son feel lost.

I believe Kev is happy and healed. He is with his Savior and surrounded by love.

I want to mirror that here.

I never said goodbye to Kev. I simply whispered, “It’s ok. I’ll see you soon.”

Thank you for your patience. Every time I sit down to write, I aim to get back to my starting place. It’s just hard to write about purpose and passion while wiping tears, and rewriting my story.

Stay with me.

With love,

Stephanie