Gratitude & Thanks

This season, before the first leaf even turned, Adam and I were already held in the arms of generosity. Your kindness through Adam’s GoFundMe has carried us through some of the heaviest days—reminding us that even in struggle, gratitude can bloom. Every donation, message, and gesture of care has been a lifeline, a light that has steadied us when things felt uncertain.

Autumn has long been called the season of thanks, and for me it has never felt truer. Beyond a single holiday, I think of Thanksgiving as an energy—a time to reflect on what sustains us, what nourishes us, and who gathers around us, whether in person or in spirit. This year, that energy has shown up for us in the form of community, kindness, and the countless ways you’ve reminded us that we are not alone.

If you feel moved to support Adam’s continued journey, know that the GoFundMe remains open, and every gift—no matter its size—makes a difference. But even more than that, please know that your presence, your care, and your simple act of reading these words is already a gift we don’t take lightly.

May this season of change remind us all that gratitude is not reserved for abundance—it’s what transforms struggle into strength, and strangers into family.

Opening Letter from Val

Hello, my loves—

Here in Florida, the seasons don’t announce themselves with the same drama they once did when we lived in Asheville. There are no blazing red mountainsides or sudden bursts of chill in the air, but even so, I still feel the shift. The mornings carry a softness, the light leans a little more golden, and inside, I sense that familiar tug—the quiet knowing that a new chapter has arrived.

Autumn has always felt like both a homecoming and a departure to me. It’s the season that reminds us that change is part of the rhythm of life—that even as leaves fall (or in our case here, palms rustle in the wind), something within us stirs, ready to shed and begin again. I love that duality, the way autumn teaches us to hold endings and beginnings in the same breath.

Even in a place where the external seasons are subtle, the internal ones still rise and fall. This time of year invites me to pause, to notice, to lean into gratitude. A cozy morning cup, a flicker of candlelight at the table, a moment of reflection as the day shortens—these small things feel even more precious when we choose to savor them.

So let’s welcome autumn together, in whatever form it finds us. May we let it soften us, remind us of what we can release, and root us deeper in gratitude for what remains.

With warmth,

Val