Two Degrees and One Whole Heart

I know it’s been a little quiet around here: the blog, the shop, the tiny snapshots of our everyday magic, all took a bit of a pause. Life had other plans. And I’ve been holding tight to Papa John and the people I love, not just collecting stories to share, but actually living them. The posts will come soon, I promise. But for now, here’s a little peek behind the curtain.

With John working down in Texas, I packed up the pups and made the drive to see him. It was the kind of trip that fills your lungs and your soul at the same time. Long Texas roads, laughter echoing down long back roads, and just enough mischief to keep things interesting and John exhausted. (His favorite line as of late? “You’re exhausting.” All while smiling and laughing.)

He took me to the zoo (because animals are my love language) and then to this sweet local farm where I naturally fell in love with every single creature. And let me tell you… Texas cows? They’re everywhere. I found my new favorite, a cow version of Basset Hounds. Ears low to the ground, big brown eyes, floppy everything. I’m smitten. I may or may not have looked John square in the eyes and said, “We need one.” So if a cow shows up at True North… don’t ask questions. And maybe don't tell John. lol No sooner had I made the 10-hour drive back home with the pups, I was hopping on a flight to Oregon.

If you’ve been with me since before our True North Family, you probably know Oregon holds a tangled piece of my story. It’s been five years since I’ve been back. Five years since I said goodbye to a place that held more grief than I could carry. A place that broke my heart. (And yes, a heart can physically break from trauma.) It took four years of weekly therapy, now twice a month,  to be ready to return. I went back with an open and healed heart. It was holy. There were tears. So many tears. The kind that surprise you. The kind that set you free. The kind that fall because something deep inside is finally unclenched. But there was also light. And laughter. And real, bone-deep peace.

I got to see Eli and Jocelyn’s sweet home, kiss the newest grandpup (ridiculously cute, and yes, I considered sneaking him into my carry-on).

 

But most precious of all, I got to watch Jocelyn, our beautiful, whip-smart, deeply beloved bonus daughter,  graduate college.

Not just one degree. Two!

Two degrees earned with intention, grit, and so much heart. That girl makes a plan and follows through. Watching her cross that stage, steady, radiant, and fully herself,  wrecked me in the best way. I cried through the entire ceremony. Happy cried. Proud cried. UGLY cried. And I didn’t even care. This is a young woman who has poured herself into her dreams and still somehow has time to pour love into everyone around her. She makes you feel seen. Known. Cherished. She’s love in human form. And to see her celebrated for everything she is and everything she’s worked so hard to become? It was a sacred moment. A whole baptism in tears and joy.

I took over 500 photos (no exaggeration). We screamed ourselves hoarse cheering her on. And for that little window of time, I didn’t think about old wounds or hard chapters,  just the joy of watching someone you love shine.

That night, back at the house, we had one of those family evenings that you wish you could bottle up forever. John pulled Eli aside and gave him a crash course in BBQ,  and let me tell you, in this family, that is a serious rite of passage. I don’t cook much anymore unless John’s out of town (listen, I’m not ashamed, I’m spoiled and it works for us).

Watching John teach and Eli soak it all in while us girls sat around listening to music, laughing, loving , that’s the stuff. That’s soul food. That is what life is about. These moments filled with the people you love. 

Oh !!! And did you know John can sing?! Because I didn’t. Turns out, he’s got pipes. Just another reason to adore him. And never allow him to sing publicly if I am not around. 

And Eli? That boy grilled a tomahawk steak like a total boss. Perfectly seared. Juicy. Proud-as-can-be. He nailed the chicken, brats, and veggies too. It was like watching a torch being passed, one tongs flip at a time.

So yes… life has been full. A little wild. A lot tender. And absolutely sacred.

Thank you for being here. For sticking around through the quiet seasons. For loving us even when we’re off chasing dreams and healing hearts.

We’ll be back to posting more soon. But for now? Hug your people. Celebrate someone you love. Eat something grilled. And if a cow ends up in the yard… just smile and say, “Well, Gigi warned us.”

With all my love,
From this wild, messy, magical life!
Michelle aka Gigi