Month: March 2026

“Still Dreaming at 65”

/ Anne Dennish / Leave a comment

Yesterday marked another trip around the sun for me.

Sixty-five years of living, learning, loving, and sometimes letting go of things that were never meant to stay.

What I realize now, more than ever, is that time is precious. Too precious for unnecessary drama. Too precious to spend carrying hurt that steals our peace.

This season of life feels different.

It feels like the moment when you finally give yourself permission to live the life you’ve always imagined, not the one that others expected.

At this age, I find myself dreaming again.

I picture a small table somewhere in the Tuscan countryside… a glass of wine beside me, rolling hills and vineyards stretching into the distance, and a notebook open in front of me.

A quiet moment to write, to breathe, to simply exist in a beautiful place.

Maybe that’s what this chapter of life is really about — finally giving ourselves permission to live the moments we once only imagined.

Another trip around the sun… and I’m still dreaming.

Wishing you love and light,

~Anne Dennish~

“The First Anniversary of Losing My Mom”

/ Anne Dennish / Leave a comment

Today marks one year since my mom passed away.

Anyone who has lost someone close knows that the first year is filled with a series of quiet milestones. The first Christmas without them. The first Thanksgiving. The first Easter. The birthdays they aren’t there for. Each one arrives with a moment where you feel their absence a little more clearly. Over time, you realize that the first year isn’t just about grief — it’s about learning how the world continues to turn while you slowly learn how to carry their memory with you in it.

For me, my mom passed away just six days before my birthday last year, so today also marks the closing of that very first cycle of “firsts.” The holidays, the moments, the days when I instinctively reached for the phone before remembering. Somehow, we made it through all of them. Not perfectly, not easily — but we made it through.

Now a new year begins, one that isn’t measured by firsts, but by memories. The love doesn’t disappear, and neither do the lessons or the laughter. They simply change form and maybe that’s the quiet truth of grief: the first year teaches you how to live with it, and the years that follow remind you that love never really leaves.

Grief never truly goes away – we simply learn to carry it differently, side by side with the love and memories that will always remain. 

Wishing you love and light,

~Anne Dennish~

“The Month of March”

/ Anne Dennish / Leave a comment

I’ve never really liked the month of March.

For as long as I can remember—going all the way back to childhood—it felt like if something bad was going to happen to me, it would happen in March. Somehow, year after year, that belief kept proving itself true.

Last March, my mom passed away.

Last March, I spent my birthday quietly, just me and my dad.

And March became heavy in a way I didn’t ask for.

But today, as this new March begins, I’m trying something different.

I’m trying to loosen my grip on the story I’ve been telling myself.

Trying to remember that months don’t get to decide my fate.

Trying to believe that grief doesn’t own the calendar, and neither do old fears.

This March, I’m choosing to meet the days as they come—without expectation, without dread, and with a little more grace for myself.

Maybe healing doesn’t mean forgetting what happened.

Maybe it just means not letting it define everything that comes next.

Here’s to a gentler March.

One day at a time.

Wishing you love and light,

~Anne Dennish~