Everything Changes
Returning to the Place That Healed Me
I’m sitting on the screened porch of my aunt’s lakeside home in the Adirondacks — the place that healed me. Seventeen years ago, I wrote Adirondack Retreat: My Midlife Journey to Wholeness, and it’s hard to believe how much time has passed. After living here for six years, I returned to the Hudson Valley… yet now I find myself coming back more often to be with her.
It was my aunt and uncle’s loving kindness, support, and generosity that first brought me here while I was recovering from breast cancer and navigating deep personal challenges. They embraced me without judgment — only love. Both are wise in countless ways. No matter how difficult or disappointing life felt, I found comfort in their presence — in their hugs, our tears, and the laughter that always returned to us like a soothing balm. This porch holds so many memories, each one quietly filling my heart.
Her beloved husband passed years ago, right here in this home by the lake they both cherished so deeply. Their marriage was extraordinary. He adored her — and she him. They shared everything. Now her health is declining. She requires full-time care and is currently in a rehabilitation center nearby, where I will be heading shortly.
The call of the loons in the evening and early morning stirs my soul and brings a gentle smile to my face. Birdsong surrounds me, and the steady hammering of the Pileated Woodpecker brings back memories of my daily walks through this sacred landscape.
The old logging road is off limits now — a place where I once spent countless hours walking, meditating, and praying. I took so many photographs there. Today, a gate stands at its entrance with a sign that reads: Keep Out. Private Property. No Trespassing. Still, I wandered where I was free to go and captured what I could. At this moment, there is only stillness… and birdsong.
I feel both sadness and the deepest gratitude — for my aunt, and for this place she loves so dearly.
My intention now is to write another book documenting the changes — not only here at the lake, but within myself and within my dear aunt. How we have changed… how we have grown… the wisdom gathered, the opening of the heart, the deepening of the soul. So much of who I have become began right here — in the place that healed me — and continues to unfold even now.
Everything changes.
The landscape shifts. The body changes. Roles reverse. Seasons turn. Paths that once welcomed us may close, while new ones quietly open.
Yet love remains.
Gratitude deepens.
Wisdom ripens.
Some places hold our healing so completely that they become part of our spirit. We return not only to remember who we were… but to witness who we are becoming.
And in that sacred remembering, we discover that while everything changes, what truly matters only grows stronger.
