A Tradition in Bloom: A Son's Love - A Quiet Gesture.

A Son's Love - A Quiet Gesture. Tradition Begins.

Every spring, the pasture comes alive with bursts of fiery red-orange, the Indian Paintbrush flowers spreading like wildfire against the green grass, erasing winter’s touch. It’s a sight I’ve cherished for years, but what makes it truly special is the hands that gather them—hands that once belonged to a little boy, now a man grown with a family of his own.

When my eldest son was small, he would run through the fields, plucking handfuls of those wild blooms just for me. No special occasion, no prompting—he simply saw beauty and wanted to share it, a gesture so simple yet so full of love.

The years have passed, carrying with them the weight of time and change. That little boy has grown into a father, his hands no longer small, yet just as steady and sure as they ever were. And every spring, without fail, he still reaches down and picks those same wildflowers from the pasture, bringing them to me with that same familiar grin. No grand gesture, no need for explanation—just a quiet act of love, reminding me that some things, thankfully, never change.

How grateful I am for this thread that ties us together—the bond only a mother knows, woven into something as simple and beautiful as a handful of wildflowers. The seasons will keep changing, and life will keep moving, but I know that as long as the Indian Paintbrush blooms in the pasture, he’ll still find them for me. And I will treasure them, always.

Time moves forward, reshaping life with its responsibilities and joys. Yet in that simple act—his hand selecting the blooms, their vibrant colors blazing against the green—I see the boy he was and the man he is, and the love that endures between us.

And while some traditions are written in books and others carved in stone, ours grows wild and free—scattered throughout the pasture, returning each spring, just like always, carried across generations.

Photo Credit: Janine Sterry Pittman  #theprairieyankee

Embracing Change with Strength and Grace - New Identity at 60+

From the moment I could run, jump, and climb, movement was my language. I was the kid who scaled trees effortlessly, thrived on the softball and soccer field, and found balance and strength in gymnastics. A pro-athlete? No, but my body was my greatest tool—agile, strong, resilient. Now, as I navigate a new chapter in life, I find myself in a deeply personal transition—one that requires me to reconcile my former athlete self with the person I am today.

This journey hasn’t been easy. There have been moments of loss, frustration, and resistance. Some days, I long for the effortless power I once felt, the drive of competition, and the confidence of knowing my body could meet any challenge. Accepting that athleticism isn’t confined to youth—that it evolves—is a lesson I am still learning. My relationship with movement is shifting from pushing my limits to appreciating my resilience. And as I step into this new phase, I’m hoping to find strength in honoring my past while embracing the future.

Climbing Trees: Fearlessness & Freedom

As a child, trees weren’t just part of the landscape—they were adventures, challenges, and victories. My siblings and I raced each other to the top, our hands gripping branches, pushing past hesitation, eager to reach the highest point. On windy days, we’d feel the tree sway beneath us. We were so free! That fearless spirit may no longer lead me to the treetops, but it still lives within me—whispering encouragement whenever I take on new challenges, step outside my comfort zone, or refuse to let age define my limits.

Softball & Soccer: Teamwork & Determination

Team sports taught me camaraderie, perseverance, and strategy. The drive to win was all encompassing which drove the fun factor for a group of competitors even further.  But it was more than that, it was about working together, trusting instincts, and encouraging others. Today, I may not be racing across fields, but the love for movement and connection remains. I carry the same team spirit and determination in everything I do – my marriage, raising kids, throughout my career.

Gymnastics: Strength & Discipline

I competed in high school on the uneven parallel bars, placing first all but twice. That event demanded power, control, and artistry, pushing me to refine movements and perfect my technique. My coach was my biggest fan. The rush of swinging between and over the bars, executing transitions, and sticking landings fueled my competitive fire. Gymnastics required focus, precision, and resilience—qualities that shaped me far beyond the sport itself. Now, my body moves differently, but the discipline and inner strength gymnastics taught me remain just as vital.

Acknowledging the Shift

This journey isn’t easy. Some days, I crave the confidence of knowing my body could meet any physical challenge. But I have to remind myself that change is inevitable, and accepting it is a process. Recognizing this shift is the first step—allowing myself to feel everything that comes with it, without judgment.

Giving Myself Grace

This transition is not instant. I have to remind myself to be gentle in this process—to honor what was while embracing what lies ahead. I still feel my competitive nature in everything I do, but I’m working on finding new ways to express it. 

What are your thoughts? How are you navigating transitions in your 60+ life?