March 22, 2020


It was June 28, 2016. A Tuesday. It should have been a very good day.

It wasn’t.

The day started as expected: Dad was driving me to Minneapolis to drop me off at the airport. I was heading back to Tel Aviv, Israel, after a couple year hiatus. I had spent months creating a beautifully bound itinerary busting with all the things–theatre tickets, nights in Jerusalem, an excursion to a kibbutz.

Even better? I had somehow, someway scored round trip Delta One tickets for a measly $3500. It is usually three times that. This was going to be the trip of all trips.

This trip was important. I had just finished my coursework for my Masters of Arts in Communications, and I was deep into my thesis. This written work dealt with my last trip to Israel in 2014, which coincided with the last round of conflict in the region. I was so excited for a little R&R while gaining inspiration to move forward with my research. I was so dang excited.

After Dad departed, I made my way to the Delta Sky Club Lounge at Minneapolis. Paul International. I grabbed some soup, a beer, and a chair in front of one of the flatscreens hanging in a minimalistic manner. It was on the news–I don’t remember what station, and that’s not important. But the story was. Everything regarding it was slow motion.

Bombing. Airport. Ataturk. ISIS. One dead. Ten dead. Terrorism.

Even though time slurred at this point, the rest of the day sped by. While time ticked on in the lounge, the time between boarding, deplaning, having a kind reservation agent cancel my flight to finding my way to a Country Inn in Bloomington went in an unbelievable, this-can’t-be-happening blink.

But I still feel every. single. moment. of it when I think about it.

You might be reading this with a heavy heart because a date that was meant to be all of a sudden isn’t. While the scenarios might not be the exact same, all the disbelief and disappointment are. There is nothing worse when something you have so desperately longed for is ripped from you…especially when it is all out of your control.

I just wanted to let you know it’s okay to feel everything. Be pissed. Cry and cry and cry some more. Then use those emotions to develop your Plan B(e): Ready, excited, and determined to make your dream day a reality.

For me, that’s July 23 of this year…so I am looking at Plan C(eriously, again?!). But I make as many plans it needs to see myself back at the sea.

Do the same for yourself and your goals. We’ll get there, and it will be worth the work.

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At home on the road. Forever-focused on authenticity and the thrilling art of creation; always found in the moments that leave me breathless and in awe. 

After fourteen years as a high school educator, I stepped back through a door I thought was closed. Journalism came back into my life. Armed with a Masters of Arts in Communication, I was again challenged and prepared to tell the stories that would become history, but with a twist: It is now your legacy of love that I document. The tension I seek is that from every tear, smile, laugh, and moment of love on your wedding day. 


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