Best Laid Plans

I moved to Cincinnati in October of 2020. I didn’t know many people outside of my family, and the world was quiet in that uniquely COVID way. I was also navigating a transition in my personal life.

In 2021, my father passed away. It was still COVID. And somewhere during all of that, I was introduced to a gal named Sarah. We were fast friends. I could say many things about the fun we’ve had, the conversations we’ve shared, and the adventures we’ve been on—but those are the quiet markers of any meaningful friendship. You already know those stories.

What you don’t know is that from the moment I met her, Sarah was clear about two things: she had a great life, and she wanted more. She did all the single-girl things—dating apps, nights out with friends, quiet tears at home. She traveled, went to therapy, worked hard at her job, and kept putting one foot in front of the other.

And then she got sick.

It was a major health event requiring surgery and a months-long recovery. Think of your favorite star player having to sit on the bleachers because of an injury. It’s disappointing for you, sure—but disorienting for the player who has only ever seen themselves on the field.

Perhaps you’ve been there…or maybe you’re there now. Swimming in self-doubt, fear, and hopelessness. Sarah would be the first to tell you you’re not alone. She’d also tell you that as much as she loves a plan—and would always prefer certainty over anxiety—her wildest dreams didn’t hold a candle to the reality that played out.

Last week, I stood and watched Sarah marry the love of her life. Their story is a testament to all that we can’t see coming, and to a kind of timing that only makes sense when you step out of the trees and look at the forest.

Here’s to Sarah, her new life, and having the courage to see yourself into the next season.

Dear Spring,
Thank you for coming back.
For the warmth.
For the color.
For the reminder that nothing
stays dormant forever.
For showing us, year after year,
that even after the longest winters,
life finds a way to bloom again.
And maybe we can too.

—Anonymous (“The Faithful Woman”, Facebook)