





Most of the best stories I’ve ever heard were told around a kitchen table.
Not in an immaculate dining hall and not around a perfectly well set table. Not a table with matching chairs and polished silver. But a table where friends, family and people from all walks of life were welcome. Where questions were allowed (and even encouraged). Where drinks and laughter carried us past dinner and throughout the night. A table where no one was asked to pretend that they were “fine” when they really weren’t.
That’s how The Story of Us Project began in our inaugural Season 1 – at my Aunt Kathy’s kitchen table, after dinner drinks flowing, Uncle Kelly making an absolute racket in the background, fumbling our way through new technology, learning as we went but nevertheless, sharing, connecting, spreading love and having the grandest ol’ time.
Really, the entirety of Season One was us setting the table for our project—introducing our mission, selecting our first guests, finding our voice… sometimes carefully, sometimes clumsily—but daring to ask:
What happens when we slow down long enough to really listen to one another?
Across these first conversations and blog posts, a few steady themes emerged, like constellations we kept rediscovering in different skies. These are the threads that will forever weave us together as human beings.
From reflections on favorite holiday movies to deeply personal letters to my children, we kept circling the same truth:
Stories remind us that our lives matter—especially when we forget. They help us lasso the moon when the world feels heavy and the light feels far away.






Whether through conversations about chronic pain, mental health, senior caregiving, or the unseen labor of those who serve children with complex needs, we learned that pain is universal—but so is compassion.
We talked openly about anxiety, depression, parenting children who struggle, and the cultural discomfort that still surrounds mental health. Again and again, the message was clear: naming the struggle doesn’t weaken us—it frees us.
Turning 50. Parenting older children. Watching those children slowly grow up like sunrises in slow motion. Realizing the wonder years didn’t disappear—they just changed shape. Season One honored the sacred ordinariness of midlife, where awe whispers instead of shouts and reminded us to find joy in the small, every day gifts that surround our often monotonous, middle aged lives.
From faith-filled journeys to quiet spiritual practices, we explored what it means to step off the wheel, to run toward the roar instead of away from it, the ensure our cup is full and to let our souls shine without needing applause.
Some lessons we explored don’t need footnotes. They just need repeating… Work Hard. Be Nice. Let It Be Enough.
Let’s be honest: Season One was an experiment.






We were muddling our way through:
It was messy.
It was imperfect.
And it was exactly how beginnings are supposed to look.
If Season One taught us anything, it’s this: Clarity comes from showing up, not from waiting until everything is polished.
And yes—Season Two will be so much better.
Better sound. Better flow. Deeper conversations. Same heart.
Thank You for Sitting at the Table


If you listened, read, shared, commented, or quietly carried one of these stories with you—thanks. You made this more than a hobby or a pet project. You made it the start of a new community.
As we look toward 2026, here’s our invitation:
- Follow.
- Share.
- Listen.
- Pull up a chair.
The story is still being written—and we’d love for you to be part of the next chapter.
For anyone wondering what comes next… let’s turn the page into Season 2 and reflect on the year to come:
The page is blank,
not because nothing has happened,
but because it’s waiting for you.
It doesn’t ask for perfection.
Only honesty.
It doesn’t demand a masterpiece.
Only presence.
You can write in pencil if you’re unsure.
You can cross things out.
You can begin again mid-sentence.
This year,
may you tell the truth kindly,
rest without guilt,
and choose courage more often than comfort.
May you notice the small graces—
the quiet wins,
the soft mornings,
the strength you didn’t know you had.
And when the story feels unfinished,
remember:
you’re both the author
and the most beloved character.
Turn the page.
We can’t wait to read what you write next.
Here’s to stories worth telling.
Here’s to listening better.
Here’s to Season 2 – Let the games begin!

Leave a comment