2021: The Year in Review

A year ago today, as you see from this photo, we were cozied up at the cabin in East Jordan, Michigan. The snow outside the window sparkled, and through the fir trees you could just make out Lake Charlevoix. I’ve always dreamed of living by a lake, and though I couldn’t exactly dive in from my back deck (who am I kidding, I’d never just dive into a lake because I’m afraid of fish), it was a lovely sight. The fire roared and crackled. The kids had their mouths full, so they weren’t bickering. The dogs were splayed on the rug, exhausted from an earlier snowball fight.

I think it was right about then that I looked at my husband and noticed his contented smile. How much he loves this place. It’s the only place, really, that I can get him off his computer for more than a couple of hours at a stretch. Sure, he gets into the occasional spat with a chain saw and winds up in the ER. But he loves it here. And it was then, I think, a plan was hatched.

It’s time to launch The Next Chapter. Sell the house, move here, and start an adventure of our own.

Twelve months later, we’re nearly there. The house is going on the market in January. In February, Craig and I start our #PrayAcrossAmerica adventure, starting in Columbus, Ohio. Just the two of us in an RV, visiting parishes who invite us to pray with them, offering guided holy hours and talks to promote my new book The Ave Prayer Book for Catholic Mothers.  (You can get it at Ave with a 20% discount using code STORY20). Our stuff is mostly moved into the cabin, and my office overlooks that beautiful lake, if you crane your neck and look real hard. Chris has moved into his own studio apartment, and (please God) is supposed to start a new job early in the new year. Sarah is settled in her group home in Fort Wayne, my mom in her assisted living home. Our Aussie shepherd Maddy died this year, and we brought her to the cabin to bury at Christopher’s request: To him, East Jordan is a safe place, a secure place. It’s Michigan. It’s been in the family for generations. To him, even though he won’t be living here with us, it is home.

All this change has been a little nerve wracking, to be honest. It has taken Craig the better part of two months to clean out his office, each night me chanting the Move Mantra: We are downsizing. We need to get rid of at least 80% of our stuff to fit there. You want this, and so do I. So … let’s make it happen.

And finally, he did. Merry Christmas!