06/05/2026
The Last Session
Today I had a conversation with someone I have known for many years.
We spoke about life, endings, new beginnings and the people who leave an imprint on our hearts long after a chapter has closed.
As we reminisced, I found myself thinking about my maternal grandfather, Matty.
My grandfather taught me something that has guided my entire life:
People matter.
Not because of their titles.
Not because of their accomplishments.
Not because of their wealth.
Not because of what they can do for us.
People matter because they are human.
Some relationships last a season.
Some last a lifetime.
Some disappear for years and somehow return exactly when they are needed most.
What touched me today was not success. Mine or his.
It was kindness.
The respect.
The honesty.
The pure love.
The willingness to remember.
As our delightful conversation unfolded, something unexpected happened.
For the first time in a very long time, I felt my father’s fierce spirit of protection around me.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Protection.
The kind that quietly reminds you that you are stronger than you think, that you have survived difficult chapters before and that you do not have to surrender your power to those who seek to diminish it.
At one point, we both said the exact same word at the exact same time.
I laughed and taught him a funny ritual I learned many years ago.
You squeeze pinky fingers together and one person asks:
“What goes up the chimney?”
The answer:
“Smoke.”
Then the second person asks:
“What goes down the chimney?”
The answer:
“Santa Claus.”
Then you make a wish.
So we did.
Except something even more beautiful happened.
Instead of making wishes for ourselves, we each offered a prayer for the other.
A prayer for peace.
A prayer for healing.
A prayer for resolution.
A prayer for happiness.
A prayer to make a movie starring Steve McQueen.
And somehow, in that simple moment, our prayers merged into one.
I was reminded that there comes a moment in every life when we must stop giving our energy to people who thrive on chaos, control, criticism or fear.
And instead return our attention to what is real:
Love.
Friendship.
Integrity.
Nature.
Meaningful work.
The people who genuinely wish us well.
As our conversation came to an end, I felt something I have not felt in a very long time.
Peace.
Not because every problem has been solved.
Not because every question has been answered.
Yet because I was reminded that genuine human connection still exists.
In a world that often feels rushed, transactional and divided, I remain grateful for the people who choose kindness, loyalty, devotion, compassion and truth.
Perhaps that is what my grandfather understood all along.
Love does not disappear simply because a chapter ends.
Respect does not vanish because time passes.
And sometimes what appears to be the last session, the last conversation or the last goodbye is simply life reminding us of what mattered all along.
Because every goodbye carries within it the possibility of a ‘hello’.
And sometimes, many years later, life gently reveals that what we thought was an ending was actually a beginning waiting patiently for its moment to return.
💜
