Milkweed & Monarchs

Welcome back to Milkweed and Monarchs. I'm Dawn Klem.

Today I'm sharing a story about a devoted wife, a husband facing a terminal diagnosis, and an unexpected encounter years later that brought everything full circle. It's a reminder that kindness matters, even long after we think a chapter has ended.

Thank you for joining me for Episode 86. Let's get started.

Welcome back to Milkweed and Monarchs. I’m Dawn Klem, and today I’m taking you on a drive through one of the most unexpectedly joyful traditions my family ever stumbled into — all thanks to a little 2009 Mini Cooper S we never planned on buying.

This episode begins in Hillsdale, on an Easter weekend filled with family, church, and the kind of simple holiday happiness my mom always loved. But tucked inside that weekend was a surprise that turned into a decade-long adventure: a tiny car that opened the door to a whole community, countless memories, and ten years of crossing the Mackinac Bridge with more than a thousand other Minis, all of us chasing a Guinness World Record together.

Today’s story is part nostalgia, part celebration, and part farewell — a look back at the laughter, the rallies, the costumes, the friendships, and the magic of belonging to something delightfully quirky. So settle in as I share the ode to our Mini Cooper, and the joy it brought to our family from the very first unexpected moment.

Some stories don’t just come from the past — they flutter back into our lives like monarchs returning home, carrying pieces of who we once were. In today’s episode, I’m sharing a memory that resurfaced at my 50‑year high school reunion, a story that began in first grade with a shy crush, a very smart boy named John, and a ring wrapped in aluminum foil that never quite made it into my hands.

It’s a tale about childhood innocence, the way life loops back on itself, and how the smallest forgotten moments can suddenly shine again decades later. This one made me smile for days, and I think it might melt your heart a little too.

Let’s go back—way back—to where it all started.

Welcome back to Milkweed and Monarchs. I’m Dawn Klem, and today I’m taking you on a trip straight into the heart of one of my favorite stories — our honeymoon.

Now, if you know me, you already know I’m an outdoors girl through and through. So while most people picture tropical beaches and umbrella drinks, our honeymoon was something entirely different: rugged northern Maine, a golden retriever named Amber, a truck full of camping gear, and a husband who thought he was the seasoned outdoorsman.

This episode is all about adventure — the kind that surprises you, challenges you, makes you laugh, and stays with you for decades. From the quiet beauty of Cobscook Bay to the candy‑striped lighthouse at Quoddy Head, from pitching a tent on a pristine Canadian beach to the hilariously frustrating hunt for a dog‑friendly hotel, this is the story of how our honeymoon became one of the most unforgettable chapters of our life together.

And yes… it ends with a Christmas surprise that still makes me cry.

Let’s dive in.

Some stories ask to be told only once, and some insist on being revisited so we can finally lay them down. This episode is one of those. It’s painful, honest, and necessary—not because it is the last chapter, but because the remaining chapters belong together in a different kind of light.

Today, I’m returning to the story of my adopted daughters, a story that shaped me, stretched me, and ultimately taught me what it means to love someone enough to let them go. This isn’t an easy episode. It carries heartbreak, bewilderment, and the long, slow work of acceptance. But it also carries relief, clarity, and the quiet strength that comes from choosing peace over longing.

If you’ve ever loved someone who drifted away, if you’ve ever tried to hold together a family that was unraveling, or if you’ve ever had to release a relationship for your own well‑being, I hope you’ll find something here that speaks to you. This episode is part of a grouping of final reflections—stories that don’t end neatly, but end truthfully.

Let’s begin.

Hi friends, it’s Dawn Klem, and welcome back to Milkweed and Monarchs. Today’s episode is pure sunshine — a story about a little cockatiel named Elvis who brought joy, music, and a whole lot of laughter into our home. He wasn’t just a bird; he was a traveler, a singer, a companion, and a tiny feathered reminder that love shows up in the most unexpected ways.

So settle in, take a breath, and let your heart open wide. This is the story of Elvis — the happiest, loudest, most determined little bird who ever fluttered through my life.

Hello friends, and welcome back to Milkweed & Monarchs. I’m Dawn Klem, returning to the microphone this month while my book makes its way toward publication.

Today I’m sharing a story that sits right at the intersection of love, personality, and the tiny quirks that shape a marriage. It’s about the early days with my husband Craig—an engineer whose world is built on precision—and me, a nurse whose world is built on people, improvising, and getting things done.

From unfinished rooms to a deck that nearly broke all of us, this episode is a reminder that marriage isn’t about being the same. It’s about learning how to live side by side, even when one of you is measuring boards and the other is saying, “Just hammer it in already.”

I’m so glad you’re here.

Today’s episode comes from a place I never expected to reach — not sorrow, not confusion, but clarity. For two years I carried the weight of being cut out of my daughters’ lives after giving them everything I had to give. I carried the hurt of being left with their choices, their silence, and even their debts. But today, for the first time, I felt something different: anger. Not bitterness — truth. And with that truth comes a boundary I should have drawn long ago. Unless God Himself places a different path in front of me, I am choosing peace over pain, and distance over destruction. This is the story of how I finally stopped bleeding and started breathing again.

Some stories feel dramatic in the moment not because of what actually happened, but because of what we didn’t know. This episode is one of those. For years, I carried the weight of thinking I had done something wrong — replaying conversations, filling in the silence with blame, trying to make sense of a situation no one ever explained to me. What I didn’t realize then was that the truth was missing, not my worth. And when the truth finally surfaced years later, everything I thought I understood shifted. This episode is about that gap — the space where communication failed, assumptions grew, and clarity arrived long after the moment had passed. 

And that’s where this story really begins — not in the moment itself, but in the space between what happened and what I understood. So let me take you back to that day. I didn’t know it then, but this was the moment that would sit with me for years. The moment that made me question myself, replay every detail, and wonder what I had done wrong. I walked into it with good intentions and walked out with confusion I couldn’t name. Only later — much later — would I learn the truth that changed everything.

There are stories women carry in their bones — stories of being dismissed, doubted, or dragged through systems that were supposed to protect them. Stories of judges who didn’t listen, lawyers who didn’t care, and a culture that still asks women to be both the evidence and the advocate for their own suffering.

This episode is the final chapter of my life with my narcissistic ex‑husband. It’s the chapter where the system failed me, but I refused to fail myself. It’s the chapter where I learned that justice doesn’t always come from a courtroom — sometimes it comes from finally telling the truth out loud, reclaiming your story, and walking away with your head high. This is the ending he never expected and the freedom I always deserved.