I’m learning that grief and hope don’t cancel each other out. I can miss who I was, feel overwhelmed by rebuilding, and still make room for what’s growing. Two things can be true.

The holidays look different when your life shifts in ways you never saw coming– No one can prepare you for the challenges. I’m trying to move through the season with honesty, gentleness, and a sense of grace.

As I look back on nearly two decades of Friendsgiving traditions, I’m learning how to hold both joy and sadness in the same breath.

The hardest Thanksgiving of my life led me to an unexpected meal—Greek shrimp with tomatoes and feta—and a reminder that comfort often comes from what’s unfamiliar.

There was a time when I couldn’t cook, couldn’t eat, and couldn’t face my own kitchen. But slowly, comfort started to find me again—in small acts of care, shared meals, and the gentle reminder that food still holds joy.

This lemon chicken is all about crisp skin, real lemon, and a garlic-forward sauce that tastes better than it has any right to. Minimal effort, maximum payoff.