The past month has been a lot.

Actually, that feels like an understatement. It’s been heavy. Emotional. Unpredictable. The kind that keeps your nervous system on edge and your heart in your throat.

Somewhere in the middle of everything, I’ve disappeared a little bit.

Last Saturday, I decided I was tired of being tired. JP had been asking to eat downtown at Grill Marks, so we hopped in the car and headed out.

The temperature was perfect and the sun was shining – a recipe for the kind of mind-shift I desperately needed.

I ordered the Loaded Fries appetizer in an attempt to recreate the dish from J. Jrs. Who remembers J. Jrs? Unfortunately, this batch didn’t quite deliver. They were fine, but definitely didn’t usher in OG vibes from the spot I miss so much.

After lunch, we hopped on the trolley and just rode. No agenda. No rush. Just taking in the city.

Then we went to the Greenville Zoo – which, if you know JP, you know that was the highlight. His love for animals is something pure in this crazy world.

Watching him there, fully present, fully himself, reminded me how much joy still exists – even in these hard seasons.

We closed out the day at Unity Park, climbing to the top of the Honor Tower for the first time. Standing up there, looking out over everything, I felt something I haven’t felt in weeks: peace.

Not perfect peace. Not the kind that erases everything else. But enough. Enough to breathe a little deeper.

I’ve been feeling the kind of sad that makes you want to stay home and close the curtains. Well, if we had curtains I’d close them. The kind that convinces you the outside world is too much.

Today reminded me of something important. Sometimes the healing doesn’t come from staying in. Sometimes it comes from stepping outside, even when you don’t feel like it.

Today was simple. Lunch. A trolley ride. The zoo. A park. But it felt like everything.

It was a picture-perfect small-town kind of day, filled with the things we love most. And for the first time in five weeks, my nervous system felt calm(ish).

Maybe that’s what love looks like in seasons like this. Not choosing between joy and sorrow, but learning how to carry both at the same time.