Winter is coming and I can't wait. Fall was weird this year. Less like a friend and more like a mysterious question.
Family doesn't necessarily mean you're related by blood. Can you love, laugh, care for, accept, pray with, cry with them? They're family.
Death is a new beginning, both for the dead and the living.
You're given thousands of second chances every day. Notice them.
Just because the skies are gray doesn't mean the day is. Splash it with your own color. Prisms of blessings are everywhere, but only you can take the time to shine light through to make them noticeable.
These are the days for poetry. Break out the Emily Dickinson, Robert Frost, Edna St. Vincent Millay, Sylvia Plath, and Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
Anticipate the holidays. Make gift lists and plans early. Meditate on what you love and appreciate about your friends and family so spending time with them is an anticipated joy.
Don't ever forget to give thanks. Not everyone woke up healthy, or with a husband or mother or father, or warmth, or all their limbs. You're blessed beyond measure.