I used to have a hard time with the day after Christmas. It always felt like a let down after all the hustle, bustle and excitement.

But as I’ve gotten older, our holidays much quieter than in years past, I don’t usually feel sad the day after any longer. I think in part because I’ve really come to love silence and stillness more often in my everyday life.

I actually look forward to the day after Christmas also because I’ve realized about myself that I feel better with routine and structure to my days. That tends to get a bit mixed up this time of year.

But even though I look forward to getting back into my routine again, I was finding it hard to get it “in gear” this morning — feeling a bit melancholy about a few things that have been a bit challenging the last few weeks. And John has been so busy with work, that he is gone six days a week — and he was out the door early again today.

I knew getting out for a walk would likely change me feeling like a lead balloon. So I looked at the weather on accuweather.com as we are supposed to have rain today — no snow yet — and it read, “snow beginning in 67 minutes.”

Funny how a little thing like thinking we might have some snow got me all excited — just like when I was a little girl. And it brought up a sweet memory of when Kylie as a young puppy, and a day we had lots of snow, and how we ran and romped through the snow down to the post office.

And before I knew it, I had my warm clothes on, and out the door I went.

It’s about a mile through town before I reach our beautiful lake. And as I walked, I felt my spirits lifting, my arms swinging beside me, my feet happy to be moving.

And when I got to the lake I felt a sweet tug at my heart, which the lake always seems to do to me. Elkhart Lake, beautiful no matter what time of year. And sitting on a bench nearby was an older couple, all bundled up in their winter gear, taking in the “medicine” of the view and the water, too.

Yup, there it was, the reminder that I’d needed because I’d gotten stuck in my head this morning, that it is the simplest of things and moments that get us going once again and moving in the right direction.

Thank you Elkhart Lake. Thank you!

Merry Christmas to you! Thank you for being a part of my life, following along on my (almost) daily posts here at Joyful Paws headquarters.

As I type this, two wheelchairs for paralyzed dogs in need are on their way to give them the gift of mobility (the little elves at Eddie’s Wheels for Pets were busy up to the last minute yesterday)!  Oh, how this warms my heart. I think that now makes 52 disabled dogs The Frankie Wheelchair Fund has helped — because of YOU and your generosity. Thank you!

I hope this holiday season, as I like my blog to reflect on all things in life, that you take time to pause, listen, and capture what it is that matters most to you in living a meaningful life.

Merry Christmas!!

I watched as he slid the white envelope across the counter containing a set of keys.

Keys to where he is no longer permitted to enter. It’s been over a year now.

His heart is mending and this was his final step of letting go.

A man of great integrity, a strong work ethic, and very trustworthy, found his heart in a place he never expected it to be.

My heart broke that day over a year ago, too. And I never thought it would stitch itself back together again. But with time, it has  — though there is still a lingering now and then of sorrow and “what if?”.  But with this came blessings I never expected, too.

But as I watched him hand over the keys it was the hurt in his heart that I knew was there that broke mine all over again.

To see someone you love to have struggled through a heartache, I think, is harder than ones own heartbreak.

Perhaps because I know in the depth of my bones that he gave of himself 200% and gave from a place inside him that I think even surprised himself is what makes it that much harder to bear.

But it was a relationship with someone we both loved that went astray that we each worked our way through — on our own, and together….and how the blessings revealed themselves as they always do if you look hard enough.

As we drove home last night, the headlights of oncoming cars lighting up his face, I saw etched in the lines of his face a sadness that will likely always be there.

It can never be erased.

We held hands. And I wished I could take away all the hurt he endured.

But the blessing is that he became stronger. He opened his heart in a way he never thought he would, and one can never have regrets for that.

I saw a side of a man I’d not seen before and it made me love him even more. And our marriage became even more deeply connected because of it.

These are the blessings that came from two broken hearts. This awareness of how fragile life really is that guided us through the pain.

The heart of the matter, though in some ways we may never have answers to some questions– what we do know is that we evolved into a stronger couple — we walked the road of disappointment and hurt together — and the gift of it is that we now love one another more deeply.