The best conversations happen in kitchens


I was about a year into my divorce journey and thought I’d be further along in my grieving process by that point. But my grief was coming out like a child with a balloon who is just letting little bits of air slip through the hole.

I was sitting at her island in her kitchen creating a puddle of tears. Again. I said, “I feel like I am standing on the shore of this huge body of water and in order to be happy I have to cross it and it just seems so large. I’m afraid I’m going to drown.”

She just smiled at me and said, “It’s wide, but what you can’t see is that it’s not deep. You just have to get in, but you’ll be able to touch the whole way across.”

That was the day I finally had the courage to start moving forward. Thanks, Beth Zadik!

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