I didn’t set out to create something like this.

I’ve always loved painting—finding small ways to bring beauty into ordinary days. But like so many women, my life became full. Full of responsibility, decisions, and showing up for the people I love. Somewhere in the middle of all that… I realized how easy it is to forget yourself.

Caregiving changed everything for me.

My dad’s journey with dementia began in 2015. My mom’s followed in 2017. For years, I walked alongside both of them—learning, adapting, and doing my best to care for them well. My dad passed away in May of 2025 after two years in hospice care. My mom now lives in a memory care facility… but as anyone who’s been there knows, caregiving doesn’t end when someone moves. It just changes.

In that same season, I became a trainer for the Rosalynn Carter Institute for Caregiving, leading their Dealing with Dementiaworkshops—full-day sessions designed to equip caregivers with practical tools, resources, and encouragement. I also created a local Caregiver Cafe, a space where caregivers could come together twice a month for support, connection, and a reminder that they weren’t alone. But over time, I noticed something that stayed with me.

So many caregivers couldn’t come. They couldn’t leave long enough to attend a workshop. They couldn’t step away for a gathering. They were doing it all… often feeling defeated, unappreciated, overwhelmed, and exhausted.

I kept thinking, “How do I reach them?” The ones in the thick of it. The ones who don’t have an hour… let alone a day. That question stayed with me because I knew what helped me most during those seasons wasn’t something big or complicated. It was something small. A pause. A breath. A reminder that I was still in there, too.

That’s why I created the Second Bloom Letter. To bring together the two things I care deeply about—supporting caregivers and creating art—and deliver something simple, meaningful, and manageable. Not everything all at once. Just a few thoughtful things each month:

A gentle reminder or tip for handling a hard moment.

An idea that might ease the load.

A simple recipe for the nights when cooking feels like too much.

A small way to simplify life.

I’ve gathered hundreds of these ideas—from my own experience and from working with so many caregivers over the years. But sharing it all at once would be overwhelming. A few things each month… with a heartfelt note? That feels doable. And if my art can brighten someone’s day along the way— even better!

Because even in the middle of everything—you are not alone. And you are still blooming!

With my husband of 25 years, Mike.

With Dad in 2016.