usLife is strange, glorious, exhilarating and rewarding… excruciating, unimaginable, painful and real. But no matter which way the chips fall I consider every day a blessing, a lesson and an adventure – big or small.

At 44 the silence of an empty home was the last thing I thought I’d ever ‘hear’.

My friends, my true friends, understand that I don’t like to be alone. I feed off the energy of other people. I need to be inspired by laughter, conversation, singing and dancing, late nights on the roof discussing our place in the universe or just giggling about our favorite Facebook meme.

And so, one afternoon, I walked out into the world at 44 feeling the strength of a queen and the terror of a teen. Shaking like a leaf, my friends were right there to catch me when I faltered and then raise me right back up.

I screamed ‘shift change’ when one would come and one would go. Who gets that kind of support in a lifetime??? Not only did they stand by my side when I needed them most but they helped build my dream center into a home, a real home – a warm, inviting, sunlight filled home.

I can’t thank them enough. I need them to know what they mean to me – each and every one. There aren’t enough thank yous in the world to make them understand what they’ve done for me. And I use A LOT of words.

I realize that to be a part of my life requires great tolerance of a whirlwind of people, eternal hyper-energy, creative craziness, unadulterated truth, a dreamer, schemer and grandest wish believer. For those of you that have been there through it all, landed somewhere in the middle or have jumped in later to help put the puzzle back together, I love you. From the bottom of my two sizes too big heart, I love you. It could be a simple Facebook ‘like’, private message, text, random drop by, creative care package, phone call… I remember each and every one.

I promise to keep making lemonade daily. Because of you my glass has never been more full. I have miles to go before I sleep and I’m so grateful I’ll always be inspired by never having to go it alone.