Stay Classy and Choose Love

This week starts with a hard lesson in parenting: sometimes loving your kid means stepping back, letting them make a mistake, and empowering them to have the hard conversation themselves. It’s a whole new stage of parenting—and I’m learning as I go.

A grief class at work then takes me somewhere I didn’t expect: back to the months after losing Jeremy. I talk about the beautiful moments tucked inside the suffering, the loss of our friend Sandrino, the decision to leave nursing, and the first time I laughed after Jeremy died.

And yes… that first laugh involved my brother shaving off an eyebrow. 😂

Because apparently grief, parenting, and healing don’t always look the way we expect them to.

This week, I’m talking about the unexpected ways life has a sense of humor—like being humbled by a dysrhythmia class at work, only to discover I actually passed. 😂 It got me thinking about how new dreams don’t always feel exciting and inspiring. Sometimes they’re scary, and sometimes they come with a healthy dose of humility.

Then I pick up the story again, back in the days after Jeremy’s funeral, when I was learning how to build a life I never expected to have. I found the YMCA, discovered spinning, and learned that apparently there are some emotions you can work out on a bike… and some Pilates classes that can literally break your tailbone.

Somewhere between pedaling through grief, trying to be the best mother I could be, and figuring out who I was becoming, I began to realize that surviving a story and owning it are two very different things.

And maybe that's the thing about new dreams—and new chapters. They can be scary because we don't know where they'll take us. But I’m learning that I don’t have to know. I just have to keep trusting God through every stage… even the humbling ones.

This week, I’m feeling calmer than I have in a long time. Maybe it’s because I’m finally realizing I don’t have to control everything—or convince everyone that I’m doing it right. Todd and I had some good conversations, Everett reminds me that raising a young man means learning when to step back, and hosting the swim team at my house proves that apparently I enjoy having a small army of teenagers under my roof. 😂

Somewhere in all of that, I find myself thinking about my story and the things that shaped me—and before I know it, I’m picking up the story again. We head back to the days surrounding Jeremy’s funeral, where there are funeral outfits to shop for, months of wearing black, and some stories that are easier to tell now than they once were.

Maybe that’s what happens when you finally stop worrying so much about whether you’re doing life “right.” You get to look back and see that you were stronger than you thought you were all along.

Come sit with me. There’s a little calm, a little grief, and apparently… quite a bit of black attire.

Sometimes loneliness has very little to do with being alone.

In this episode, I begin by sharing what lonely has really meant to me—a feeling rooted much deeper than solitude, in the ache of feeling unseen and unloved by the people who were supposed to know me best.

Then I return to one of the most devastating moments of my life: the immediate aftermath of learning Jeremy had died. I tell the story of coming home to people who didn't have the words to make anything better, but showed up anyway—with food, flowers, and even edible arrangements.

As I pause the story after returning from Dover, where I accepted Jeremy's body, I find myself seeing something I couldn't see then: even when everything felt like it was falling apart, God was already placing survival mechanisms in my story. People. Love. Small acts of care. The simple ways we show up for one another when there is nothing else we can do.

Maybe sometimes God's love doesn't look like a miracle.

Maybe it looks like an edible arrangement at your front door.

This week, Colleen lets herself be honest about a hard week—missing someone she loves deeply while also making space for the things that bring her back to herself. Time with old friends, afternoons at the pool, and an unforgettable hike through the Colorado woods remind her that healing doesn’t always look like moving on. Sometimes, it looks like simply continuing to live.

Then she returns to the story of Jeremy and the day he left for his final deployment. She shares what it was like to navigate his absence while stepping into a new career as a labor and delivery nurse and learning how to carry the weight of being an only parent.

As this chapter of her story with Jeremy comes to a close, Colleen reflects on what it means to carry someone you’ve loved deeply in your heart while continuing to choose love and keep living. This may be goodbye to one part of the story—but it is far from the end.

There is so much more to Colleen’s story. And she hopes you’ll stay for what comes next.

This week, Colleen gets honest about the emotional roller coaster she’s been riding lately. She opens up about mom guilt, her struggle with perfectionism, and the deeper fear underneath it all—the feeling that she has to be perfect to be lovable. She shares what it looks like to begin healing that part of herself, from being at work on Everett’s first day of school and realizing he was just fine without her, to celebrating small victories (and surviving a few frustrations) while learning to start IVs at work.

She also talks about the JKTri, an event that honors Jeremy and holds a complicated place in her heart. It’s meaningful and healing, but it’s also exhausting to repeatedly step into the reality that this is her story—the story of the woman who loved Jeremy and lost him. And from there, Colleen finds herself diving back into that story.

She takes us back to the days of walking pneumonia, Jeremy’s time alone with Everett, and one particularly memorable Valentine’s Day steak that Jeremy managed to burn. Because even in a story marked by unimaginable loss, there are ordinary moments, ridiculous moments, and memories that still make her laugh. This episode is about learning that perfection isn’t the goal, grief doesn’t have to be simple, and sometimes healing means allowing yourself to hold all of it at once.

Colleen takes a minute to share an update on her heart as she continues healing from her breakup with Todd and processing the loss of Logan. In the middle of some difficult emotions, she also reflects on how incredibly thankful she is for the new chapter she’s stepping into as a labor and delivery nurse.

Then she heads back into the story of becoming parents with Jeremy. From an absolutely inedible chicken fried steak made for his 26th birthday, to an emotionally disastrous road trip back to Kansas City, to the unexpected importance of milkshakes, this season was anything but perfect. But underneath the chaos, Colleen remembers something that mattered so much: how deeply supportive Jeremy was during one of the most emotional seasons of her life.

It’s an episode about healing, new beginnings, terrible cooking, road trips gone wrong, and the kind of love that makes you feel safe enough to fall apart.

Colleen takes a break from her story about her and Jeremy to share a whirlwind week with you. She’s thrilled about her new job and opens up about some recent tough times. Colleen brings a realness to how she copes with heartache and talks about what’s coming up this week.

Colleen takes a minute to reflect on her appreciation for her family despite some of the challenging patterns she experienced growing up and continues to face today. She then dives into the heartwarming season with Jeremy where they prepared to welcome Everett into the world. This episode is full of reflection, a little bit of humor, and a lot of love!

In this episode, Colleen reflects on faith, unanswered prayers, and what it truly means to trust God when life doesn’t unfold the way we hoped. 

She also opens up about a memorable marriage retreat, the deeply personal journey of navigating fertility struggles, and a family vacation where, as she puts it, everything seemed to fall apart. Through it all, Colleen shares the moments that felt messy, painful, and confusing and is able to reflect back on the lessons they taught her. 

Follow along for photos and more on Instagram @stayclassyandchooselove