Some of my most treasured memories are stitched into the fabric of long summer evenings on my grandparents’ front porch, tucked deep in the heart of twentieth century Appalachia. The old porch swing creaked gently beneath my aunt and I as we rocked back and forth, sipping lemonade from Mamaw's Bolero Thermoware cups, the kind that were multicolored like her summer flowers, and had just enough sweat on the outside to make you appreciate the ice inside.

There’s a beauty in making certain moments feel momentous. Not everything in life needs to be celebrated with cake and balloons, but some things—those small shifts that signal “you’re growing up”—deserve to be noticed, remembered, and marked with care. And each individual, male and female alike, need to know that they are seen, recognized as special and unique, and invested in.

There’s something magical about a house full of grandkids. The noise level rises, the laundry multiplies, and the kitchen becomes the heart of it all. If you’ve ever looked around your home during a full-family visit and thought, “We might need another fridge…” —you’re in good company. Cooking for a large family, especially when the grandkids are in town, isn’t just about feeding hungry mouths. It’s about feeding memories.

I've been a bit quiet this week. Rather, I should say I wasn't necessarily "quiet" as much as otherwise invested this past week. There was very little "quiet" in our home! It was a grandkid-focused week; a whirlwind of buttered bread, swimming pool splashes, sticky ginger-cookie fingers, and jigsaw puzzle pieces that never quite stayed on the table

Reflecting on my childhood, many of my most cherished memories are interwoven with the presence of extended family