I Learn to Fish: Casablance Tales

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Fishing should be called “sunsetting”. The view is worth it, even without catching fish.

Part of my new life at Casablanca with my husband Kevin, is fishing. I have fished previously, but never as a regular activity. The first time I saw the boat in Kevin’s garage I thought of the old saying “a boat is a hole in the water where you throw money”. And it is true, there is expense involved. But this boat gets used more than a lot of expensive equipment I can name (my electric bike). 

Here are some of the things I am learning:

– Do we catch fish? Yes, almost all the time. 

– Do we keep and eat them? No, we throw them back and they live on.

– We pay money for worms instead of digging them ourselves.

– We pay money for minnows.

– A lot of the fish we catch are only slightly bigger than the minnows we buy.

– The wind direction determines which lake we fish and which spots are best. 

– The water temperature determines what the fish want to eat. 

– The time of day determines when the fish are hungry. 

– Sometimes none of the above matters. Just go fishing. 

I am not allowed to bait my own hook or take a fish off my line. The reason behind this is that Kevin likes to multitask (while watching his own two poles) and also I might get my hands dirty. I have to be ready to be photographed sitting in my spot on the bow. All this is better if I look good. 

Kevin in his spot, multitasking.

I am learning that to look good while fishing I must fasten my hair down in some way. Hats, hoods, scarves are all necessary in order to withstand the fierce wind created when speeding between fishing spots. 

Not saying this is my best look, but Kevin liked it. Nearly lost the scarf.

My other job when fishing is driving the trailer from the water after the boat is launched and parking truck and trailer in the lot. I also pull the loaded trailer  a short distance out of the water after we are done fishing. No backing is required in any of this so I have not learned that (yet).

Contrary to my childhood experiences of fishing, we don’t stay patiently at our fishing hole until it’s time to quit. We are equal opportunity fisher people and give ten or fifteen minutes to the fish in each spot before moving to the next. We are doing our part to feed them all. 

Most of the time I can identify a sunfish,  a perch, or a bluegill. These are all smaller fish which are affectionately called piranha. I have a harder time with bass which are named according to the size of their mouths. The fish we are really after are walleyes. They do have big eyes, but I don’t know where the wall fits in. 

This might be a smallmouth bass. I had to ask Google. I did catch it though.

We fish often enough that we refer to Tuesdays as “fishing day”. But this last week we went fishing on a Monday because of a southwest wind (go figure). To my surprise, we did not take the boat. Also to my surprise we did not fish from anyone’s pier or dock. We fished from the beach, sitting in our folding chairs while watching the sunset, listening to the small waves and the loons. That is really good fishing. 

Beach fishing might be my favorite.

Things Not to Forget in September

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I have just finished unpacking after our recent trip. There have been almost nonstop activities after our 18 hour drive on Wednesday. Today I have a doctor’s appointment two hours away, followed by an evening banquet – the second in as many days. There are many things I want to remember about our recent trip to Nashville and North Carolina so I need to write them down while I can. 

On the drive home, Kevin and I talked about the most memorable moments of our trip. I was a little surprised by what his were, but I totally agree. I have to write about our night at a hotel previously owned by Microtel. This hotel chain was started in Europe, from what I read. Europe is smaller and more crowded than we are across the ocean and it shows in the way they put their motels together. It was a small room. Lots of motel rooms are small, after all, not much is needed for a night’s sleep. Our room at this establishment was even smaller than that, noticeably smaller. 

On top of that, it was a room with a theme. It was the Johnny Cash room. More specifically, it was the Johnny Cash and June Carter room. They were everywhere on the walls and the bed. It was interesting at first, but got a little eerie and overwhelming by the time we went to sleep. It was a little like being watched, in the dark, by a hundred eyes. 

A decorative pillow featuring a black and white image of a woman holding a microphone and a man playing a guitar, with the text 'I WANT A LOVE LIKE JOHNNY & JUNE'.
They were everywhere, even on the pillowcases, throw pillows and blankets.

However, I soon forgot about the walls because the air conditioner kicked in and the smell took over. Maybe I am more sensitive to smells like this because I know what barns smell like. They smell warm, musty and like mouse nests.  I did get to sleep and we didn’t get sick, but I won’t forget the place. Nope. 

I also won’t forget the time with my daughter Julia and her family. My granddaughter Gwennie always fills my camera with her funny antics so there is no danger of forgetting her. We spent one day on an excursion to Pilot Mountain and Mt. Airy. It was a little over an hour to get there. Mt. Pilot sticks out, literally, like a sore thumb in the landscape.  On my trips it has been the dividing point between the Blue Ridge mountains and the Piedmont plain, but until now I had never hiked in the park. 

Plaque marking Pilot Mountain as a Registered Natural Landmark, highlighting its exceptional natural heritage value, established in 1975 by the National Park Service.
A prominent mountain peak with a flat top rises above the surrounding landscape, set against a cloudy sky.
We hiked around the cap, at the tree line.
A family stands together at a rocky formation, featuring layered stone structures. The group includes an adult man, an adult woman, and a young girl, all smiling and enjoying the outdoors.
A woman and a young girl playfully hold hands on a rocky outdoor setting, surrounded by fog and trees.
A steep rock formation rising into a foggy sky, featuring rugged textures and moss-covered surfaces.
The view up was dizzying
Aerial view of a lush green landscape with fields and wooded areas, featuring a winding road through the fields in a rural setting.
The view down was also dizzying
A woman and a young girl smiling while holding a menu at Barney's Café, showcasing sections for salads, burgers, lunches, sandwiches, beverages, and ice cream.
Lunch at Barney’s Cafe
A smiling woman and a young girl pose next to a life-sized cardboard cutout of a man in police uniform in a museum setting, showcasing a black and white checkered floor and framed photographs on the wall.
Photos with Andy Griffith in his museum

Mt. Airy was our lunch stop and added a bit of nostalgia and whimsy. The home of Andy Griffith and a museum of his life and career was fun and informative. Since getting home we’ve watched several of his movies. I kind of miss that old fashioned, sweet and innocent humor. 

That’s all for this travel post. We are getting ready for a very busy October but I hope to record more of life at Casablanca.

A hand holding a packaged adhesive medallion featuring Pilot Mountain State Park, showcasing mountains and a sunset graphic, with text indicating its suitability for wood and metal hiking sticks.
Of course, I bought another badge for my hiking stick. Of course.

Where Peace Speaks

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Where I walk. Where I pray. Where I open my eyes wide to see hope. Where I listen and hear “be calm”. I can cry, but not for long. I have to look at the clouds, then I have to look at the beaver’s progress, Then at the milkweed going to seed. Holy distraction. A […]

Where Peace Speaks

Casablanca Tales: An Aged June Bride

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So, at the end of June this happened.

A smiling woman in a floral-patterned suit and a man in a gray suit stand together, holding hands under a tent. A table with a flower vase is visible in the foreground, and guests can be seen seated in the background.

I never thought about being the bride in another wedding, and a June bride at that.  Even after agreeing to marriage, on a cliff overlooking the Colorado River, my thoughts were more about survival than planning a wedding. 

Initially, it was going to be half a dozen local family members in the parking lot of the assisted living center where my mom could watch from her balcony. For some reason, that sounded romantic to me. 

Finding out that more people wanted to attend meant that the date had to be pushed farther out to give time for travel arrangements. Due to regulations limiting the number attending, mom’s facility could no longer be the venue. I don’t remember when I got the idea to put a tent in the yard next to my condo, but when I did, it seemed so right. That also allowed the number of guests to get higher. 

Three men setting up a tent on a grassy area, each using a pole to secure the structure.

That is how we ended up on June 27th, 2026 with 60 plus people in my yard under a white tent that we put up ourselves. Weatherwise, it was a brave move, even with the tent. I give God the credit for giving us the best Saturday of the whole month for our party. Perfect weather is a gift we hoped for but didn’t expect. 

A large outdoor tent filled with round tables and chairs set up for an event, featuring small flower arrangements on the tables and a view of the grassy area outside.
A diverse group of people sitting in a shaded outdoor setting under a tent, with green grass and trees in the background. Front row includes an elderly woman in a wheelchair wearing sunglasses, and a couple of younger adults, along with others enjoying the sunny day.
This is the side my family was seated on. Other guests were seated at the tables.
A group of adults and children sitting under a tent at an outdoor event. Some children are wearing matching shirts, while adults are casually dressed. The background features green grass and trees.
Kevin’s family’s side – they aren’t all there yet. Some were working.

I have nothing against traditional weddings, I just didn’t want one for us. I didn’t want to take time for a long service, a receiving line, or pictures. I wanted simple vows, witnessed by family and friends followed by a summer picnic. After our ceremony, Kevin and I went ahead to the patio, put on our aprons and served picnic food to our guests as they went through the serving line. It was so much fun. 

A man in an apron is using tongs to serve food at a gathering, with potted plants and guests in the background.
Kevin serving the guests at the picnic line

The most heartwarming aspect of the event was the way family and good friends came to help with the celebration. Kevin’s three daughters (Sarah, Erin and Kylie) and my two (Julia and Esther), none of whom were local, were present along with several of our grandchildren. Three of my brothers and their ladies came to help. Friends from the Chicago area and local friends and neighbors showed up. It was heartwarming. 

There were moments when we thought how simple and quick it would have been to run off and get married by ourselves. But, I am so glad we did it this way instead. I’m so grateful to have seen everyone. So grateful they witnessed our vows and will be rooting for us in the days ahead. 

I’m grateful for Kevin, my husband, of course. The wedding wouldn’t have happened without your bravery. And I’m grateful for Mom, Gwen, who gave her blessing to the whole event. (Yes, Kevin asked for her approval before he proposed – cool huh?)

(I know I’ll probably miss someone. Special thanks go to my brother Dennis and the men who put up the tent, my brothers Bob and Gary and their ladies, Elizabeth and Lyn, who came from afar, daughters Esther and Julia and their husbands Ryan and Kevin, friends Sharon, Misty, Brandy, and Jeannie May my new sister-in-law. You were all so helpful and kept me calm. I noticed all that you did. Thanks!!!)

Wedding invitation for Shirley Dietz and Kevin May, dated June 27, 2026, in Hayward, Wisconsin, detailing the order of events, menu, and a note about the couple's unique wedding style.
Somewhat unusual
A group of four women arranging flowers at a table outdoors, with greenery and a house in the background.
welcome table
A man and a woman smiling outdoors at a summer event, holding a QR code. The man wears sunglasses and a light shirt, and the woman wears a denim dress with an orange scarf. In the background, there are trees and a tent.
Esther & Ryan
A smiling woman and a young girl sitting at a table under a tent, enjoying a meal together. The girl is playfully covering her mouth while the woman looks at her affectionately. In the foreground, there is a plate of food and some napkins.
Gwennie and Julie
A smiling middle-aged couple posing together outdoors, with trees in the background. The woman wears a floral shirt and an apron, while the man is dressed in a polo shirt and gray pants.
Misty and Kevin
An elderly man wearing a blue shirt and a woman in a blue blouse with sunglasses, sitting together outdoors under a tent.
Uncle Wendell and Mom
Two smiling boys standing closely together outdoors, both wearing matching navy blue floral shirts and light-colored pants, with a table of colorful cups and refreshments in the foreground.
Mason & Murphy, grandkids
A smiling young person wearing a green bucket hat and an olive green apron over a black shirt, holding a Canon camera, standing in a grassy area with people in the background.
Granddaughter Jamie, the photographer
A group of four women smiling together in a cozy indoor setting, dressed in colorful outfits and aprons.
Part of my team, Julie, Me, Sharon, Misty
Two women engaging in conversation in a kitchen, one wearing a straw hat and denim dress, and the other in a colorful outfit, with a vase of flowers on the table.
Me and daughter Esther, my wedding planner

Travels: Nashville on a Hot Day

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A cityscape view showing a mix of modern buildings and older structures, with a blue sky filled with clouds.

Kevin and I are traveling. He has been to Nashville before, I have not. I have been through Nashville but always on the way to somewhere else.  Kevin wanted to share his good experience there with me, so here we are on the 8th floor of Holiday Inn Express cooling off.  There is a record setting heat wave in progress. We have been walking down Broadway visiting famous places and listening to music. Let me tell you what it’s like.

We made our way in traffic and found parking about a block off Broadway. Parking fees were done with an app on Kevin’s phone and an attendant came to make sure it had registered. We put on our sunglasses and set out. 

https://videopress.com/v/q2VeTGXm?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&posterUrl=https%3A%2F%2Fvideos.files.wordpress.com%2Fq2VeTGXm%2Fwp-1789499742254_mp4_std.original.jpg&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true

We walked the shady side of the street past vintage looking buildings, all with bright signs and lights. It was before 11 am so not many of them were open. There were many well known names, even I recognized some of them. Kevin is much more familiar with country music of all kinds and can identify songs and singers when he hears the music. He knows a lot of the city history too and is a pretty good tour guide. 

We made our way up the street and crossed over to the Ryman Auditorium. Large vans parked in the street were unloading all kinds of band equipment. One of the workers said there was going to be music non-stop for the next few days. Life size bronze statues of the famous old timers were along the sidewalk. We decided not to pay for the tour but went into the gift shop. I now have a nice sweatshirt souvenir. 

A historical marker for the Ryman Auditorium, detailing its background and significance, against a backdrop of modern buildings. A statue of a man in a suit stands beside the marker.
A bronze statue of a woman holding a guitar, standing in front of a brick building with colorful windows and greenery surrounding the base.
It’s Loretta Lyn!

Going back to Broadway we stopped in at Legends Corner. A four man band was playing country songs (loudly). The walls were covered with posters of the many well known singers who had played there. One of the singers joked with us in the audience and asked where we were from. They took requests. It was still before noon and there were only half a dozen of us listening. 

Not sure who they are but they were fun to listen to…

This kind of place is what this section of Broadway is all about. There are dozens of these bars and each of them has live music going on. All the musicians are quite good.  I suppose some of them are on tours of their own and maybe some are hoping to be discovered. If you stay very long it’s kind of assumed that you will be tipping the band and buying something to eat or drink. We did quick stops at quite a few – you can only consume so much before it’s enough. 

A colorful interior of a honky-tonk with a vintage car suspended from the ceiling, musicians performing on stage in the foreground, and a large mural of a desert landscape in the background.
Can’t imagine how they found that parking spot.

There are shops interspersed between the bars, mostly for western clothes and boots. I shopped a little at a Boot Barn while Kevin stopped in at Nudies to listen to a band and wait. This bar had a vintage car hanging on the wall. A real car. Don’t worry, no one there was nude. 

I repeat. No one was nude.

According to the weather app, it is currently 97 degrees in Nashville and feels like 104. That is why we have made our way to the hotel to cool down. It was a bit surprising to find that there was no actual parking for the hotel. There was only a small sign on the side of the building to identify it. Kevin did a temporary street park and went in to find out where to go. He came back out with two men who put our luggage on a cart and took our truck somewhere for safekeeping, for a hefty charge. Life in the city. It’s crowded and space is at a premium. Nice place to visit but I like home better for living. 

We have plans to eat Italian at a place 9 blocks away. We’ll walk. Tomorrow we want to find the Natches Trace and walk some more, and then the Grand Ol’ Opry in the evening. What an adventure!

Casablance Tales: Tomato Teamwork

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I was going to describe our wedding event in this post but I’ve changed my mind. This quicker post, before we go fishing this evening, is about tomatoes.

What were we thinking? This spring we put in a big garden. It’s true we both like gardening, but like I said, it’s a big garden. It’s Kevin’s fault about the tomatoes though. He started them from seed and couldn’t stand to throw any seedlings away. They grew throughout the summer in spite of a couple hailstorms and getting overwatered a couple of times. In fact, they didn’t get the characteristic virus, yellow leaves and wilting. 

Picked another 5 gallon bucket full this afternoon. Remember Shadow?

And now they are getting ripe. Kevin does most of the picking. He gives them away whenever he finds someone who will take them. And this morning he got up from the breakfast table, clamped his presser gadget onto the counter and made tomato puree for two hours. It’s seedless, skinless and goes into zip lock bags for the freezer. 

They go into the hopper and come out ready to freeze or can.

What I absolutely love is the teamwork! I help wash and slice the tomatoes, he runs the press. We bag the juice together. Done. These jobs are fun when I’m working with someone who works fast and works well. Just one of the ways we are good together. 

We had a full day – Kevin cleaning the garage and me taking Mom to the ophthalmologist. And we did go fishing. The lake was gorgeous (the fish were small).

The bobber is out there somewhere. Yeah, I don’t see it either.
Sunsets like this make fishing fun even when you don’t catch fish.

Casablanca Tales 9/7/26

Shirleyjdietz1 Comment

Hello, from the basement.  This series of stories will be all about my new life at Casablanca. It is, as the word implies, a White House. It is not in a foreign Spanish speaking country. It is only 20 minutes south of where I lived before in Hayward, Wisconsin. It was named by the man I married before I met him. It is down a long driveway in a forty acre forest, between two somewhat large lakes. It has the front porch I have always wanted. It has lots of stairs: 10 up to the front door, 8 up to the side door, 16 down to the basement, and 16 up to the loft. 

A modern cabin with a triangular roof, featuring a large porch with wooden steps, surrounded by colorful flowers and greenery.

I’m moving slowly these days when I traverse stairs – something is not quite right in one of my knees. Going down to the basement, I have plenty of time to notice the temperature change. By the time I get to the bottom step, it has gone from 75 degrees to 65. If the AC is on, it’s even colder. This is only one of the things I like about the basement. Kevin calls it “Shirley’s apartment”, because that is where most of my stuff has landed. I am officially moved from my condo to Kevin’s house. He insists I call it “our house” now but I am still getting used to that. We are ten weeks into our marriage, and it is still amazing to me that this has happened.

There have been several times when I knew where my computer was, and I could have written something. Instead I have been merciful and did the more urgent tasks. Maybe someday I will wish that I had recorded more about our wedding, or our honeymoon in the Boundary Water’s cabin. Maybe I will want to remember the move and the many trips with a full carload of possessions and the many items sold on Facebook Marketplace. I won’t forget the feeling as I looked at last at the empty condo on Par Lane and left the keys on the counter.  Maybe I will wish I had written more about MY BOOK FINALLY GETTING PUBLISHED! But I have decided to live without regrets. I can still write what I remember about all those things, and I think I will. 

A sign reading 'NAMEKAGON-COURT OREILLES PORTAGE TRAIL' surrounded by lush green foliage.

Today I sat in church with Kevin. I have promised not to call him “the husband” when I write about us. After getting home we went on a hike on the Portage Trail. It is a short loop down to the Namekagon River, for the purpose of testing out my problem knee. The woods are still green and beautiful and I avoided tripping on many (not all) of the roots and rocks in our way. You see, hiking is the way that Kevin and I got to know important things about each other. It is special to us, and I have missed it for the many weeks while I was moving. I am 75 years old and every step I get to take is precious. 

After a short hike through the woods we came to an arrow pointing to a trail going back in the direction we had come. We obediently followed it and arrived back at our vehicle. But we had come on a portage trail with the idea that water would be found at least at one end. So we went down the trail again and disobeyed a sign that said “don’t come this way”, more or less. This path was less traveled, for sure. It had a wooden walkway that had not been maintained over a wetland area. Even though the walkway was overgrown with vegetation, it seemed solid enough and we were able to follow it down to the river.  It was a nice view and made the trip worth the risk. I may explore the ethics behind disobeying signs in the wilderness, later. 

A serene view of a calm river surrounded by lush greenery with trees and grasses on the bank under a blue sky.

My knee is a little sore today, but it’s a holiday. I can rest. I’m glad we got back to hiking. I’m glad to be writing again. I remember things better when I have written about them. 

A person standing on a wooden platform surrounded by lush greenery on a sunny day, wearing a white long-sleeve shirt and a cap.

A Birth Announcement!!

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Sometimes it seems like anyone who wants to write and has a computer is writing a book about something. But actually, in this world only about 0.1% of people ever write a book. This number is approximately the same as the population of New York City, say 8 million. 

I have always had the “want to”. Stories of people’s lives have always fascinated me. Life fascinates me, even my own. And that is why I write. Many of my ancestors were writers. They kept journals and wrote letters which have been passed down to family through the years. I find them so interesting. I wanted to add stories from my own life for my children and grandchildren to read. 

This leads me to the birth announcement. June 23, 2026 is the official publication date for my first book. It is the story of Dennis, my late husband as he faced Lewy body dementia. It is my story as I cared for him and witnessed his death. He was a special and unique individual. Hopefully, generations to come of our family and friends will know him through this written record. 

It took five years of writing to make this book. It took three years, almost to the day, of the publishing process to get this baby ready to come out. Like any pregnant lady, I am so ready for it to be released. Thank you to God for helping this story to be finished before I begin the next one. I hope others will find it to be a useful and interesting book. The end is in sight, but the wait has been long, just sayin’…

Mother’s Day Weekend in NC

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I read online today that Mother’s Day has the record for lowest crime day of all holidays. It’s because most mothers are out eating brunch and therefor aren’t committing crimes. Makes sense. I was out eating brunch and not committing crime this morning. 

The family went to Homestead, a place that Julia had been wanting to visit. The owner had been a chef at some pretty high end restaurants before coming to the country and opening his own little place. It only serves breakfast and lunch two days a week, and it is pretty much always packed. We got there before the crowd.

We had ordinary food, but it was served and presented interestingly. It was exactly what I would have expected from an experienced, fine dining chef. The decor was also worthy of examination. I loved the repurposed church pews and the diagonal siding on the walls. It was a nice start to Mother’s Day weekend. 

Homestead Kitchen, Reidsville NC
Church pew bench adorned with cute little girl

Earlier in the morning I was not as happy. I awoke during a nightmare about my upcoming wedding. My heart was pounding and my head ached. For some reason I dreamed that the wedding was starting and I couldn’t find any of the things I was supposed to be wearing. The things I could find were either ridiculously unsuitable or stained and unwearable. I was frantic and so frustrated. It didn’t help when I looked out the window and saw no one had put up the tent, or brought the chairs. I was glad to wake up.  It made me long for the original, tiny plan of having maybe a dozen people standing under Mom’s balcony for a 20 minute ceremony. But the plan has grown. 

The dream was probably because of recent talks about clothing choices for the wedding and the shopping I have done while here in North Carolina.  I picked out a suit coat and pants, and shirt for Kevin. He was going to get something new anyway and I thought we might as well look coordinated.  I’ve bought clothing for a birthday present before, but this was more and felt kind of special, intimate even. So many crazy feelings  are coming up around this event. It’s a different brand of crazy, but significant just the same. 

Tomorrow is my last day at Riverbend Farm. We will go to church together and I will give Julia her Mother’s Day card and a little houseplant.  I helped Gwennie make a card for her as well. It has been a good two week visit. I love feeling reconnected with the place and the people. It has also been good to be here where it is definitely spring, the garden is growing, the trees are fully leafed out and we don’t have to wear coats. I’m hoping it has quit snowing by the time I’m back in north Wisconsin. Yeah…

Garden has a good start
My little North Carolina farm girl

The Forthcoming Book

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Hopefully, this is one of my last assignments from my publisher.

The account I’ve written about my experience caring for my husband through years of Lewy body dementia is soon to be published. I’ve been thinking about the main takeaway for readers of the book. What did I mean to communicate? 

Many of the stories in the book told of the daily struggles, frustrations, and challenges encountered during a prolonged terminal illness. I didn’t know at the time how long Dennis had to live, but I knew time with him was so much shorter than we had wanted. As I wrote about the hard times, I was reminded of how precious the small, ordinary moments can be. I want to remind readers that those moments can be found if they look for them. As I learned to look for them myself, the exercise changed me. I live differently now. I pay attention better. I even verbalize my joy and gratitude for the small, the unique, the never-to-be-had-again experiences.

One of those experiences I was writing about… We are not really aliens.

This experience of seeing my husband of fifty years fight to survive, even as he clearly wasn’t winning his battle was so difficult. An unexpected diagnosis like this makes no sense if one does not believe in God, and know him. For me, it was important to know that God’s character demands that he give purpose to everything in my life, and in Dennis’s life. He is not wasteful. There was purpose in what we went through. Going through hard things is always valuable if we know God. For those readers of this book that desperately want help, notice that I often referenced the times when we turned to God for answers, for strength, for comfort and peace. We got what we needed and you can too.  

There may be comfort in knowing that others are experiencing similar trials, and I hope my accounts provide that for my readers. You are not alone. Although I never intended to write a handbook on LBD caregiving, you may find ideas or perspectives that help you with some of your problems.

Finally, as I’ve spent the last three years without my husband, I’ve also watched others go through that kind of loss. Some do not adjust well at all. I process and come to accept the life God gives me by thinking and writing. Others turn to professional therapy, to personal friendships, or to some other outlet for the recurring feelings that need to be expressed. One of the most important things that I mean to communicate is that it is okay to talk about those feelings. Even if they are not beautiful, kind or faith filled, it is okay to name feelings in order to move past them. Find someone who will listen, find an audience. Yes, things have changed and you are different, but you can move forward. 

I intend to write my story of moving forward. It is my hope that what I write will help in that regard as well. Your one life is the adventure God meant for you to have. Don’t let it be short changed.