organized religions

I'm Not Walking Away From Jesus. I'm Walking Away From Religion.

After a lifetime of rules, expectations, and fear, I'm finally discovering what it means to have a personal relationship with Jesus.

For my entire life, from the day I was born until just 4 weeks ago, church was all I knew.

It wasn't just somewhere I went on Sundays. It was my whole world. It was how I was raised, how I lived, what I believed, and how I was taught to see myself and the world around me.

I grew up in a very strict religious environment where being a Christian wasn't just about loving Jesus, believing in Him, and living a life of faith. It came with a long list of rules about how you were supposed to look, dress, behave, and live.

There were rules about everything.

No makeup. No cutting your hair. No jewelry. No pants for women. Dresses and skirts had to be a certain length, sleeves had to be long enough, and necklines had to be high enough. No shorts, no swimming with the opposite sex, no dancing, no worldly music, no movies or certain television shows, and no going to certain places.

There were expectations about how a woman should dress both inside and outside of church, what was considered modest enough, and what a "good Christian woman" was supposed to look like.

And then there were all the unspoken rules. The things you just knew you weren't supposed to do, even if nobody actually said them out loud.

Somewhere along the way, it began to feel like the way you looked on the outside mattered more than what was happening in your heart.

For most of my life, I didn't question any of it. It was normal to me because it was all I had ever known.

But as I've gotten older, and especially over the past little while, I've started asking myself some very difficult questions.

Where does my relationship with Jesus end and other people's expectations begin?

Am I making certain choices because I truly believe God is asking that of me, or because I'm afraid of what people will think, say, or do if I don't?

Am I following Jesus because I love Him, or am I following a religious system because I've been taught to fear what happens when I step outside of it?

And perhaps the biggest question of all...

If I take away all the rules, do I still have Jesus?

My answer is yes. Absolutely, yes.

But getting to that answer hasn't been easy.

Because what I've experienced hasn't just been a lifetime of religious rules. There have also been words spoken to me that have hurt me deeply. Words that have stayed with me long after they were said.

I've been told I'm not good enough. That I'll never be good enough. That nobody will ever love me for long.

I've been told to stop grieving my sister.

I've been made to feel that questioning things or standing up for myself meant I had a problem with submission.

And when you hear things like that, especially in an environment where you're supposed to feel loved, supported, and spiritually safe, they do something to you.

They make you question yourself. They make you feel small. They make you wonder if maybe you really aren't good enough.

For a long time, I carried those words with me.

But I'm beginning to understand something that has taken me far too long to recognize.

Control is not love. Humiliation is not guidance. And emotional abuse does not become acceptable simply because it happens in a religious environment.

Being made to feel worthless is not the same as being taught humility. Being afraid to speak up is not the same as having respect. And being controlled is not the same as being spiritually led.

I believe Jesus calls us to love, grace, kindness, and truth. I don't believe He wants us living in constant fear of never being good enough.

And I'm tired of feeling that way.

I'm tired of feeling like I have to prove myself.

I'm tired of worrying about whether I'm measuring up to somebody else's expectations.

I'm tired of allowing other people's opinions to determine how I feel about myself and my relationship with God.

After a lifetime of living this way, I've reached a place where I know something has to change.

And four weeks ago, I finally took a step I never imagined I would take.

I stepped away from the church environment that had been part of my entire life.

That is not a small thing for someone who has known nothing else.

It's scary. It's emotional. And there are moments when I question myself because, after all, this is what I was raised to believe.

When something has been part of your identity for your entire life, walking away from it can feel like you're losing a piece of yourself.

But I'm beginning to realize that maybe I'm not losing myself at all.

Maybe, for the first time, I'm finding myself.

And I want to make something very clear.

I have not walked away from Jesus.

I still believe in Him. I still pray. I still have faith. I still love Him, and I still want Him to be the centre of my life.

What I'm walking away from is the belief that my relationship with Jesus needs to be measured by the length of my hair, whether I wear makeup, whether I put on a pair of pants, or whether I fit someone else's definition of what a Christian woman should look like.

I want my faith to come from my heart.

I want to love Jesus because I choose to, not because I'm terrified of breaking a rule or disappointing someone.

And for the first time in my life, I'm allowing myself to believe that I can do exactly that.

I can cut my hair and still love Jesus.

I can wear makeup and still love Jesus.

I can wear pants and still love Jesus.

I can ask questions and still have faith.

I can make decisions for myself and still pray.

I can disagree with something I've been taught and still have a relationship with God.

And perhaps most importantly, I can stop trying to earn the approval of people and focus on my relationship with Jesus.

That doesn't mean I suddenly have all the answers. Far from it.

I have a lifetime of teachings, expectations, and fears to work through. There are things I'm still trying to understand and beliefs I'm learning to look at for myself rather than simply accepting because that's what I've always been told.

And I know there will be people who disagree with me.

Some will be disappointed. Some may judge me. Some may believe I've lost my way or turned my back on everything I was raised to believe.

And if I'm being completely truthful, that still hurts.

Because these aren't strangers. These are people I've known, loved, and shared my life with. People who have been part of my world for years.

There are wonderful people within the church, and I will never deny that. There are memories I treasure, lessons I'm grateful for, and people I will always love.

Walking away from a religious system doesn't mean I have to hate the people who are still part of it.

It simply means I've reached a point where I can no longer live my life according to rules and expectations that have left me feeling controlled, judged, and never quite good enough.

And that is something I'm learning to be okay with.

Because I have spent so much of my life worrying about what other people think of me that somewhere along the way, I forgot that my own voice matters too.

My feelings matter. My questions matter. My choices matter.

And my relationship with Jesus matters far more than whether someone approves of how I look or how I live.

I don't want to spend the rest of my life afraid of making a mistake.

I don't want to feel guilty every time I make a choice that someone else might disagree with.

I don't want a faith built on fear.

I want a faith built on love.

I want grace. I want peace. I want to open my Bible and discover things for myself. I want to pray because I want to talk to Jesus, not because I feel obligated to prove something.

I want the freedom to grow, to learn, to make mistakes, to ask questions, and to understand that I don't have to be perfect to be loved by God.

And maybe that's what this new chapter of my life is really about.

Not rebellion.

Not turning my back on everything good I was taught.

Not walking away from Jesus.

But finally learning to separate Jesus from the fear, the control, the hurtful words, and the man-made expectations that have been attached to my faith for so long.

I'm not saying this journey is going to be easy.

There will be days when I feel confident in my decision and days when years of conditioning make me question everything.

There may be relationships that change. There may be people who never understand.

And I know healing from some of the things I've experienced isn't going to happen overnight.

But I also know I cannot keep living my life simply to make everyone else comfortable while losing myself in the process.

For the first time, I'm giving myself permission to breathe.

Permission to think.

Permission to question.

Permission to make my own choices.

Permission to believe that I am enough, even when someone else tells me I'm not.

And permission to have a relationship with Jesus that is truly mine.

After an entire lifetime of being told what Christianity is supposed to look like, I'm beginning a new journey of discovering what following Jesus looks like for me.

And while I don't know exactly where that journey will lead, I do know this.

I haven't lost my faith.

I haven't lost Jesus.

And I haven't stopped believing.

I've simply stopped believing that I need to live under a long list of man-made rules to belong to Him.

I am still a believer.

I am still a woman of faith.

I still love Jesus with all my heart.

I'm just finally learning that my worth isn't determined by how well I meet someone else's expectations.

And after a lifetime of feeling like I would never be good enough, perhaps the most beautiful part of this journey is beginning to believe that, in the eyes of Jesus, I never had to earn His love in the first place.

I'm not walking away from Jesus.

I'm walking away from the fear that made me forget what His love was supposed to feel like.

And for the first time in my life, I'm learning what it means to follow Him freely. 

What Is Holding You Back?

 Sometimes the hardest thing standing between us and happiness is our own fear.

Have you ever wanted something so badly that you could almost feel what life would be like if you just took that leap? You can picture the happiness, the peace, the love, and the life you've dreamed of.

Yet, something keeps you standing still.

You know what your heart wants. You know what could be waiting for you on the other side. But no matter how much you want it, you just can't seem to take that next step.

So, what is holding you back?

Is it fear?

Fear of making the wrong decision? Fear of leaving behind everything you've worked so hard for? Fear of disappointing someone? Or maybe it's the fear of giving up the life you know for a life that comes with no guarantees.

Sometimes we become so comfortable with what is familiar that even the thought of change terrifies us. Not because we're necessarily happy where we are, but because at least we know what to expect.

And the unknown? Well, that's a whole different story.

What if it doesn't work out?

Those six little words can hold so much power over our lives.

What if I fail? What if I regret my decision? What if I lose everything I've worked for? What if I take that chance and end up wishing I hadn't?

But here's something I've been thinking about lately...

What if it DOES work out?

What if the very thing you're afraid of doing turns out to be the best decision you've ever made?

What if the happiness you've been searching for is waiting just beyond the fear that's keeping you stuck?

What if, for once, you stopped thinking about everything that could go wrong and started believing in everything that could go right?

I think sometimes we spend so much time worrying about losing what we have that we forget to think about what we could gain.

And I'm learning that being afraid doesn't mean you don't want something badly enough. Sometimes it means you understand just how much is at stake.

You can want something with your whole heart and still be absolutely terrified of what it takes to get there.

You can be excited about a new beginning and heartbroken about what you might have to leave behind.

You can know it's time for a change and still struggle to make it happen.

And maybe that's the part we don't talk about enough.

Change isn't always exciting. Sometimes it's messy. Sometimes it's painful. Sometimes it comes with sleepless nights, tears, second-guessing yourself, and a thousand conversations inside your own head.

And sometimes the biggest battle isn't between what is right and what is wrong.

It's between what feels safe and what might make you truly happy.

I'm starting to realize that there may never be a perfect time. There may never be a moment when every fear disappears, every question has an answer, and every piece of the puzzle falls neatly into place.

Maybe courage isn't about being fearless.

Maybe courage is being scared and still finding a way to move forward.

That doesn't mean making careless decisions or throwing away everything you've worked for. It means being honest with yourself about what you really want and not allowing fear alone to make every decision for you.

Because life is short. And while there are no guarantees that taking a chance will lead to happiness, there are no guarantees that staying where you are will either.

One day, I don't want to look back and wonder what my life could have been if I'd just believed in myself a little more.

I don't want fear to write my story.

I want to know that I lived, that I loved, that I tried, and that when something truly mattered to me, I found the courage to give it a chance.

So today, I'm asking myself a question. And maybe it's one you need to ask yourself, too.

Am I staying where I am because it's where I truly want to be, or because I'm afraid of what might happen if I leave?

That's not always an easy question to answer.

But maybe answering it honestly is where everything begins.

Because sometimes the biggest thing holding us back isn't our circumstances, our responsibilities, or even the people around us.

Sometimes it's the fear of trusting ourselves enough to take the next step.

And maybe, just maybe, it's time to stop asking "What if I fall?"

And start asking...

"What if I fly?" 

My 44th Birthday

44 Things I've Learned in 44 Years of Life ❤️

44 years. Wow. How did that happen so quickly?

Some days, I still feel like that young girl who had her whole life ahead of her, dreaming about what the future would look like. Other days, I feel every single one of these 44 years in my bones. Haha!

But here I am. Forty-four years of memories, mistakes, adventures, heartbreaks, happiness, laughter, tears, and lessons I never knew I needed.

Life certainly hasn't gone exactly the way I imagined it would. There have been beautiful moments I wish I could bottle up and keep forever, and there have been seasons I honestly didn't know how I would get through.

But through it all, I've learned a thing or two.

And since I'm celebrating 44 years of this beautiful, messy thing called life, I thought I'd share 44 things I've learned in 44 years.

Some are serious, some are funny, and some took me a whole lot longer to figure out than I'd like to admit.

Here we go!

44 Things I've Learned in 44 Years

1. Life goes by way too fast.
When you're young, you think you have all the time in the world. Then you blink, and suddenly you're 44, wondering where the years went. Enjoy the moments while you're living them.

2. Your mom was right about more things than you ever wanted to admit.
Remember all that advice you rolled your eyes at? Yeah, turns out she knew a thing or two.

3. Not everyone who comes into your life is meant to stay.
Some people are there for a season, some for a reason, and a precious few for a lifetime. Learning to accept that brings so much peace.

4. Family is everything.
At the end of the day, it's not the things you own that matter. It's the people you love and the memories you make together.

5. It's okay to say no.
And here's the best part: you don't even need to explain yourself! Protecting your peace is reason enough.

6. You can't make everyone happy.
Trust me, I've tried. You'll exhaust yourself trying to please everyone, and someone will still find something to complain about.

7. Take the pictures.
Even when your hair is messy, you're not wearing makeup, or you don't love how you look. One day, those photos will mean more than you could ever imagine.

8. The little things really are the big things.
A cup of coffee in a quiet house, a good conversation, a hug when you need it most, or hearing someone say they love you. That's the good stuff.

9. Getting older is a privilege.
Not everyone gets the opportunity to celebrate another birthday. Every wrinkle, grey hair, and laugh line tells a story.

10. Stop worrying so much about what other people think.
Most people are too busy worrying about their own lives anyway. Wear the outfit, take the chance, and be yourself.

11. Your health is something you should never take for granted.
Take care of your body. Rest when you need to. Listen when something doesn't feel right. You only get one body to carry you through this life.

12. Real friendships don't require constant communication.
Some of the best friendships are the ones where you can go weeks without talking and pick up right where you left off.

13. People will disappoint you.
Even people you love deeply. We're all human, and learning to manage expectations can save a lot of heartache.

14. Comparison really is the thief of joy.
Someone will always have a bigger house, a nicer car, or what looks like a perfect life. But you never know what's happening behind closed doors.

15. Money can't buy happiness, but financial peace matters.
Having more stuff doesn't necessarily mean having a better life. Sometimes having less stress is worth more than having more things.

16. Laugh as often as you can.
Especially at yourself! Life is far too short to take everything so seriously.

17. You don't have to have everything figured out.
I used to think that by 44, I'd have all the answers. Spoiler alert: I absolutely do not!

18. Kindness costs nothing.
You never know what someone else is going through. A little kindness can make a bigger difference than you realize.

19. Forgiveness is sometimes more for you than for them.
Holding on to anger can weigh you down. Forgiving doesn't mean forgetting or allowing someone to hurt you again.

20. Some of the best memories come from ordinary days.
It's not always the big vacations or expensive celebrations. Sometimes it's a random Tuesday filled with laughter that stays with you forever.

21. Trust your gut.
That little voice inside you? Listen to it. More often than not, it's trying to tell you something important.

22. It's okay to outgrow people, places, and situations.
Growing and changing is part of life. You don't have to remain the same person you were ten years ago.

23. A clean house is nice, but a happy home is better.
The dishes can wait. The laundry will still be there tomorrow. Make time for the people who matter.

24. You are stronger than you think.
Life has a way of throwing things at you that you never imagined you'd survive. And somehow, you find the strength to keep going.

25. Never underestimate the power of a good night's sleep.
Seriously. At 44, a quiet evening, comfy pajamas, and an early bedtime sound pretty amazing!

26. You don't need a special occasion to celebrate life.
Use the good dishes. Light the candle. Buy yourself the flowers. Every day is worth celebrating.

27. Love is shown through actions, not just words.
Anyone can say they care. Pay attention to the people who consistently show up.

28. It's okay to start over.
Whether it's a career, friendship, relationship, or personal goal, you're never too old to begin again.

29. Don't put off making memories.
There will always be bills, responsibilities, and a million reasons to wait. Sometimes you just have to make the time.

30. Social media is only a highlight reel.
Nobody's life is perfect, no matter how beautiful it looks on Facebook or Instagram. Don't compare your everyday reality to someone else's carefully chosen moments.

31. Apologizing doesn't make you weak.
Being able to admit when you're wrong is a sign of maturity. Two simple words, "I'm sorry," can mean so much.

32. You can't control everything.
And trying to will only drive you crazy. Sometimes you have to let go and trust that things will work themselves out.

33. Your children, if you have them, grow up faster than you can imagine.
One minute they're little and need you for everything, and the next they're becoming their own people. Cherish every stage, even the exhausting ones.

34. Experiences are worth more than things.
I'd rather have a heart full of memories than a house full of stuff I don't need.

35. Protect your energy.
Not every argument needs your participation. Not every comment deserves a response. Peace is priceless.

36. It's okay to have bad days.
You don't have to be positive every minute of every day. Sometimes life is hard, and it's okay to admit that.

37. Never stop learning.
Read the book. Try the hobby. Ask the questions. There's always something new to discover, no matter how old you get.

38. The people who truly love you will love the real you.
You don't have to pretend to be someone you're not. The right people will appreciate you, flaws and all.

39. Time is the one thing you can never get back.
Spend it wisely. Spend it with people who make you happy. Spend it doing things that make your heart feel full.

40. Sometimes the best thing you can do is absolutely nothing.
Rest is not laziness. You don't have to be productive every second of the day. Give yourself permission to slow down.

41. Life isn't a competition.
We're all on different journeys with different timelines. Just because someone else reached a milestone before you doesn't mean you're behind.

42. Tell people you love them.
Say it often. Give the hugs. Make the phone call. Send the message. Never assume people know how much they mean to you.

43. Happiness doesn't mean having a perfect life.
It means finding things to be grateful for even when life is far from perfect. Some days, that might simply mean a hot cup of coffee and five minutes of peace.

44. The best years might still be ahead of me.
And this might just be my favourite lesson of all. Turning 44 doesn't mean the exciting parts of life are over. There are still places to explore, memories to make, people to meet, dreams to chase, and so many reasons to smile.

Here's to 44 Years and Everything Still to Come!

If there's one thing I've realized as I've gotten older, it's that life doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful.

I've made mistakes. I've trusted the wrong people. I've worried about things that never happened. I've spent too much time stressing over things that really didn't matter.

I've also laughed until my stomach hurt, loved with my whole heart, made wonderful memories, met incredible people, and experienced moments I'll treasure forever.

Would I go back and change a few things? Probably.

But every experience, good or bad, has helped shape the person I am today.

At 44, I'm still learning. Still growing. Still making mistakes. Still figuring out what I want to be when I grow up. Haha!

I'm learning that it's okay to slow down, that I don't have to explain every decision I make, and that the people who matter most don't care about how much money I have or how perfectly put together my life looks.

They just care about me.

And that's a pretty wonderful feeling.

So here's to 44 years of living, loving, learning, laughing, and occasionally wondering why I walked into a room and what I went in there for!

Here's to more adventures, more laughter, more memories, and hopefully a little more wisdom along the way.

Because if 44 years have taught me anything, it's that life is short, love is everything, and the best moments are often the ones we never saw coming.

Cheers to 44! ❤️

.

20 years!

20 years ago, I wasn't sure I would see tomorrow. ❤️

Twenty years ago, I went into lung surgery knowing there was a chance I might not survive.

That's a strange thing to carry into an operating room knowing you might close your eyes and never open them again. Hugging everyone at the operating room doors, looking at my little girl and wondering would she grow up without her mom. 

But I did.

And here I am, 20 years later.

When I think about that now, I don't just think about surviving surgery. I think about everything I would have missed.

I think about the birthdays, the holidays, the ordinary Tuesday afternoons, the laughter, the hugs, the people I've met, the places I've been and the memories I've made.

And most of all, I think about the people I've loved.

That surgery gave me more time with my family.

More memories.

More laughter.

More conversations.

More life together.

And I will forever be grateful for every single one of those moments.

These 20 years haven't all been easy. There has been incredible happiness, but there has also been unimaginable loss. I've had my heart broken. I've had to say goodbye to people I wasn't ready to lose. I've walked through seasons when I wasn't sure how I was going to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

I've changed.

I've fallen.

I've gotten back up.

I've loved with my whole heart.

I've lost pieces of that heart along the way.

But I'm still here.

Twenty years ago, there were people praying that I would simply wake up from surgery.

Today, I'm looking back at 20 entire years of life I wasn't guaranteed.

That's 20 years of being a mom.

20 years of loving my family.

20 years of friendships.

20 years of memories.

20 years of laughter and tears.

20 years of watching life change in ways I never could have imagined.

There are people I wish were still here celebrating this milestone with me especially my sister. I would give anything to tell her, "Can you believe it's been 20 years?"

Somehow, I think she'd be pretty happy that I'm still here.

So today I'm not just celebrating surviving a lung who decided to quit.

I'm celebrating LIFE.

Every breath.

Every person I've loved.

Every memory.

Every second chance.

Every extra day I've been given.

Twenty years ago, I didn't know if I would get another tomorrow.

God gave me 20 more years of tomorrows.

And through everything those years have brought the beautiful, the painful and everything in between 

I'm still breathing.

I'm still loving.

I'm still standing.

I'm still here. 

And I will never take that lightly.

 .,

First Day As A Teacher

There are some moments as a mom that you know you’ll remember forever, and I have a feeling tomorrow will be one of mine. 

For as long as I can remember, September has meant getting Brooke ready to go back to school first through 12 years of school, and then 5 years of university. Year after year, there was always another “first day” as a student. But somehow, we’ve reached the day I knew was coming and still wasn’t quite ready for.

Tomorrow, Brooke won’t be going back to school as a full-time student anymore. Instead, she’ll walk through those doors and into her very own Grade 1 classroom as THE TEACHER. 

And what makes this moment even more emotional is that Grade 1 was the very first time Brooke told me she wanted to be a teacher. All these years later, that little Grade 1 girl has grown up and is now standing at the front of her own Grade 1 classroom.

There’s another part of this season that this mama’s heart is still trying to get used to she’s moved out. And I’ll admit it, I don’t like that part one bit. I miss having her home. But as hard as it is to watch your child grow up, move out, and begin a life of their own, there’s also something incredibly beautiful about watching them step into the life they’ve always dreamed about. She’s doing what she has loved and wanted to do since she was just a little girl, and I couldn’t ask for more than that.

It feels like yesterday I was getting her ready for her own first day of Grade 1, and now she’s the one who will be welcoming a classroom full of little ones maybe even inspiring one of them to go home someday and tell their mom, “I want to be a teacher when I grow up.” 

Watching your child work so hard, chase a dream she’s carried since she was little, and finally get to live that dream is a feeling I can’t quite put into words. There’s a whole lot of pride, a few tears, and a mama’s heart that is incredibly full tonight.

Brooke, you are going to be the best teacher that school has ever had. Those little Grade 1 students are so lucky to have you. Love them, encourage them, believe in them, and always remember that you may be the teacher they remember for the rest of their lives.

We are so incredibly proud of you.  Your little Grade 1 self would be pretty proud of you too.

       ( Brooke in grade 1) 

Now go live that dream you’ve had since you were six years old. 

And just because you’re the teacher now doesn’t mean you’re getting out of it… Mom still wants a first-day-of-school picture! 

2 years-

Two Years Without You

My dearest Rachel,

It's been two years.

Two years since you left, and somehow the world has kept turning, but a part of me is still standing still, right back in the moment we lost you. Some days it feels like an eternity, and other days it feels like yesterday. Not a day goes by that I don't think of you.

I miss you in ways words will never fully hold. Not just in the big moments, but in the quiet, everyday ones the things only you and I would understand. I still hear your voice. I still catch myself thinking, "I need to tell Rachel this," and for a split second, it feels like I can.

You were never just my sister. You were my safe place, my laughter, my constant. A piece of home that I now carry in my heart instead of having beside me. You were my friend, my confidant, and one of the greatest blessings of my life.

There are still so many things I wish I could tell you.

I want to tell you about your kids because, Rachel, you would be so incredibly proud of them. The way they've handled losing both of you so quickly is something no child should ever have to endure. Yet somehow, they continue to move forward with a strength that can only come from you.

Curtis has a job in a trade now. He's working hard, finding his way, and growing into a young man you would be so proud to call your son. The girls are doing wonderfully in school. They're smart, strong, resilient, and every day I see pieces of you shining through them.

And Lina I need you to know about her too. She has been such a blessing. She takes care of everything they need, but more than that, she makes sure your memory lives on. She lets them talk about you, cry when they need to, and remember you openly. She visits your grave, brings flowers, and loves them fiercely. She has been a true gift to all of us, and I know you would be grateful for the way she has stepped in and cared for your children.

The pain of losing you has never truly gone away. I've simply learned how to carry it. There are days when missing you feels overwhelming, like it sits heavy in my chest and won't let me breathe. Then there are moments when I find myself smiling because loving you is still one of the greatest gifts I've ever been given.

That love didn't leave when you did.

It's still here.

It's in every memory, every story we tell, every family gathering where your absence is felt, and every milestone that makes us wish you were here to celebrate with us. You are woven into our lives in ways that time can never erase.

I hope you can see us. I hope you know how deeply you are loved, how fiercely you are missed, and how often your name is spoken. You are not forgotten not for a moment.

Two years later, my heart still whispers your name.

If heaven has visiting hours, I'm counting the days until I see you again.

Until then, I'll keep carrying you with me in my heart, in my thoughts, and in every precious memory I hold close.

I love you always, Rachel.

Always and forever. 🤍