I have learning disabilities, it’s not one that can be spotted by looking closely at the features of my face. And because it remains hidden I fear that sometimes I am misunderstood because of it.

When I share that I have a learning disability I fear that people see me through a different lens than they previously did.

I’ve had family members who have known about my learning disabilities tell me they didn’t know I was smart enough to make it on the honor roll even though I made honors every single semester of high school.

When I tell people I have a learning disability it’s as if they expect me to then cause a disturbance and act out. But I sit there quietly absorbing everything.

When I tell people that I have learning disabilities they immediately start putting limits as to my abilities and what I can and can’t achieve. So it’s easier to say nothing and silently prove them wrong.

When I tell people that I have learning disabilities people tend to assume that my IEP and accommodations exempted me from hard work. I HATE when people assume that. I worked twice as hard as to learn the topics. And even though my accommodations lessened the amount of math problems I had to solve I would sometimes end up doing more than what I was assigned so that I could make sure I mastered the concept.

When I struggle with learning or doing a task because of my learning disabilities people get frustrated with me and tell me that this should be easy. But in actuality my brain works differently and I may need to see it done a couple of times or have it explained in a different way in order to understand.

When I tell people I have learning disabilities they tend to cheapen my achievements as if I weaseled my way through a Master’s program and was handed a degree instead of earning it myself. In reality though I worked countless hours to make my way through grad school and to end up where I am today.

I had a boss who upon finding out about my learning disabilities made some distasteful and unprofessional comments about them as if I were bad and defective and not fit to serve in ministry. Oh the irony that this was after we had done a whole Inclusion Initiative geared towards people with disabilities. She barred me from helping with it.

When I tell people that I have learning disabilities they often tend to question or doubt my capacity for leadership. But I can still lead and I lead with a greater empathy and understanding because I know what it’s like to struggle.

I wish when I tell people I have learning disabilities they would see me for who I truly am…..

An intelligent
Inquisitive
Attentive
Hardworking
Tenacious
Creative
Problem solving
Professional
Empathetic
Leader

Who demands and deserves respect
And who can do whatever she puts her mind to.

What are my goals for 2025?

To dig my toes into the sandswept shores of the Pacific Ocean

To feel gentle waves breaking and the cool water against my sun-tanned skin

To see sunsets with colors that can only be matched in Heaven.

To sip Cabernet in a Californian vineyard while a sommelier teaches me and my sisters about the wine we are drinking and how it was made.

To see the Golden Gate Bridge in all it’s grandeur

To explore underground caves taking in the beauty of stalactites and stalagmites

To watch seals as they lazily sunbathe as the waves crash around them

To take in the sights, sounds, colors, and culture of California.

To be carefree and in the present moment with the ones I love.

To snuggle up so close to them that I can hear each beat of their heart

To soak in every moment

To travel

To achieve these results will take sacrifice

It will require saying some “no’s,” so I can ultimately say “yes” to time with my family

Will take a re-evaluating of my spending habits

Will require learning to distinguish a “want” from a “need”

Will teach me different ways to save.

This year my goal is to be financially responsible so that I can spend the thing that is most precious

Time with my family and those I love.

Dear Reader,

I want to warn you before diving deep into this letter that I’ve experienced a lot of loss in the last 10 or so years. As I was pondering who I should write about I concluded that I could not choose just one person.  To choose one person would be to act as if the others did not exist, nor matter to me. Each of these people mattered and each of these people has deeply impacted my life and has contributed a piece to the mosaic that continues to become me.  So instead of honoring one person I choose to honor each person and to impart the lessons about love that they each taught me. 

Dear Loved Ones,

To my matante Elaine.  Your departure from this Earth was swift, sudden, and shocking.  The winter snow was in the process of melting as my thoughts dissolved and I erupted into a puddle of tears when I heard the news.  In those early days of grief, I didn’t know how I was going to live without you.  You showed me a love that was kind in a world that often was not.  Your eyes and your smile communicated warmth, love, and light.  You sheltered and protected me amid the storms in my life. Your heart and your home were my safe space. You made everyone you encountered feel seen, known, and loved even when you didn’t always feel it yourself.  To this day I strive to see, know, and love people with the kind and gentle love that you did.

To my Memere Gonneville.  Your passing came all too quickly. Because you had Alzheimer’s I had expected we would have to die other smaller deaths before we lost you completely.  But you remained healthy until one day you weren’t.  From you, I learned that love delights in the other.  In your younger years, you delighted in seeing us smile as you insisted that my sisters and I choose a toy from the dollar store, or as we played at a park, or as we experienced new things. Our joys were your joys and our sorrows were your sorrows.  That’s one thing I know I got from you.  Your last coherent words to me were “I love you.”  I hope when my time comes my last words will be “I love you.”

To my Memere and Pepere Hebert.  Much of my life was spent in your home sitting at your kitchen table watching and learning from you.  You gave me an example of a healthy, faith-filled marriage.  It was clear to me that you two loved each other deeply.  You died months apart from each other.  You taught me that love is generous with time, talent, and treasure.  Memere you transported many people to their medical appointments in your spare time.  When we visited you almost always retreated to the basement and returned with something to give one of your many grandchildren.  Pepere you were my rock, but also my teddy bear; strong yet soft.  My favorite moments with you were sitting on the swing watching the cars go by because in those moments you were fully present to me. You taught me to persevere.  That is a lesson I will always carry with me.  In the end, you taught me that love doesn’t end even when life does.

To my aunt Jackie. I loved spending days on the lake and at the camp with you. You loved the Blessed Mother so much and recited the rosary every day. You taught me that love is faithful even in times of suffering.  Your killer was cancer that metastasized, you endured great suffering but still, you were devoted to the Blessed Mother finding comfort and consolation in her motherly care. I strive to love the Blessed Mother as ardently as you and to pray for the hour of my death as much as you did. 

To my cousin Briar Rose, who passed away at 5 months old.  You taught me one doesn’t need to live years to live a meaningful life and to experience love.  I held you and visited you in the hospital and instantly I fell in love with you.  Though you didn’t live very long after your diagnosis you had a profound impact on our community as they banded together to support our family during that difficult time.    

Because you all mattered I still grieve.   
But it is also because I lost you…..
Because I know time is not guaranteed, but rather is a precious gift,  
That I savor each moment I have with those I love dearly. 
Thank you for being a part of my life and my story.

Atop a hill that bears my family’s name
Overlooking the special little town to which our ancestors came.
I sit and swing as the sky gets painted with brilliant strokes of red, orange, and gold.
As I bask in the stillness and silence of nature I am consoled
As I think how this place has been the venue of many a family gathering
I hear the sound of my relatives laughing and chattering
I hear the bells ringing from the Church where I attend Mass
I see my little cousins running and frolicking in the grass
I smell the scent and hear the sizzle of red hot dogs cooking on the grill.
A Northern Maine delicacy that is sure to give your tastebuds a thrill
I taste fresh cucumbers that were grown from the ground
And my mom’s Chinese macaroni salad; the best one around
I feel the wind in my hair as I continue to swing
As I watch two feathers fall from a bird’s wing—
A sign that the matriarch and patriarch of our family are near. 
In this place all is peace—there is an absence of fear. 
This is my safe place, my sanctuary, a humble abode
But for me, it is more than that with the memories that it holds
It is the place where my ancestors landed
It is where business and brothers banded
For that one day it is where family gathered.
Even though the other three-hundred-sixty-four we are greatly scattered.
 As I look at the stars in the sky as they continue to glow
I breathe a sigh of relief and know that I am HOME. 

Dear Me,

Self-love has been a journey of a million miles after being torn down time and time again, insulted, hurt emotionally and physically. Self-love is difficult when you’re used to being lied to so much that your mind suddenly becomes your biggest bully. As I wrote in my poem about bullying that’s entitled Target “[when] the weight of the impact hits you repeatedly you learn how to fall apart without learning how to put yourself back together.” Self-love, that’s the chapter I’m on right now. I’ve read the words of Scripture that say “love your neighbor as yourself (Mk. 12:31)” and prayed for the courage to love myself as deeply as I love others. I’ve sat in the Confessional where a priest in persona Christi (in the person of Christ) pinpointed that I don’t love myself well. I’ve made many a visit to my therapists office with a self-love workbook in tow hoping that learning about it will help me to live it. It’s not perfect but I am learning.

I love how I’ve been unlearning the things I’ve learned from those who were trying to steal my light.

I love how despite the setbacks and difficulties you keep trying to put yourself together after you fall apart.

I love how you will say yes to anyone who asks you to dance because you want everyone to feel what it’s like to be accepted.

I love how you are everyone’s cheerleader. You believe so ardently in the beauty of other people’s dreams.

I love how excited you get when you get good news—you can hardly contain it and you just have to share with someone.

I love how you refuse to let apathy consume you but how you feel deeply and unapologetically.

I love how you speak from the heart.

I love how you valiantly stand up for the things you believe in even if no one is following you.

I love your tenacious spirit, your determination, and grit.

I love your ambition and drive to accomplish wonderful and beautiful things.

I love how you have a mother’s heart even though you have no children of your own.

I love that you want to heal the whole world with love.

But most of all if there is anything I love about you it’s this.

That even though the world has been so unkind to you, you choose to keep your heart soft and to be so kind to everyone you encounter.

Darling there is so much to love about you.

And I know that sometimes you forget that sometimes so I wrote this letter to you so when you’re down or discouraged and can’t remember any reason to love yourself you’ll have these 13 reasons to choose self-love.

Sincerely,

I have to say that 2023 has been pretty kind to me. It’s been a good year and I’ve embarked on adventures that I never would’ve imagined in my wildest dreams. That being said it was difficult to choose my favorite moment of the year, however one rises above all the others.

Picture this….

It was my birthday. The July heat warmed my face as I woke to the sound of kids playing at a nearby park in the suburbs of Chicago. I was a long way from my home in Maine but it didn’t feel that way because my other half—my better half—my twin sister was sleeping in the room next door. I woke with gratitude for another day, for a new year of life beginning, for the life of my sister (who is my best friend), for the chance to do life together and much more. I say a quick prayer thanking God for these blessings as I soak up the rays of sun shining through the window and wait for my sleepy sister to wake up.

Our first adventure of the day was to get to Starbucks to get our free birthday beverage. As she sipped on her iced caramel macchiato and I sipped on my honey flat white we walked to a nearby nail salon to get pedicures all the while chatting about our hopes, dreams and goals for the next year.

When we reach the nail salon we settle in for some rest and relaxation. I choose a lighter purple color and my sister chose a pale blue color. The shades of nail polish we chose are total opposites, yet complement each other quite well just like my sister and I do. I look over to her as she’s getting her nails done and see her smiling and I smile too knowing that she is happy.

With our tummies rumbling we head over to P-Quads, a deep dish pizza restaurant that both my sister and my dad raved about. As we walked in the heavenly smell of pizza cooking wafted its way to my nose. We ordered a pepperoni deep dish pizza and devoured several slices of pizza before tapping out.

We headed back to my sister’s apartment and got ready for the main reason I was in Chicago (besides seeing my sister) to see Ed Sheeran perform in Solider Field. The previous Christmas my sister had gotten me tickets to the concert. I had waited for this for half a year and now it was here. The anticipation and excitement grew as I got ready.

Before leaving for the concert my sister and I blew out our candles had a few bites of our cheesecakes that we had ordered from the Cheesecake Factory a few days before. Each bite was creamy, delicious and super rich.

Finally we left for the concert. We arrived at Soldier Field and walked up to the humungous stadium. Khalid came out and the excitement was palpable. With enthusiasm and energy he worked the whole crowd. With the excitement at its peak Ed Sheeran came bounding onstage. I could not believe I was actually there, I have been a fan of his for a long time and here he was in the same vicinity as me. You could say I was a little star struck, even though Ed is such a humble guy. More than that a feeling of deep wonder and gratitude filled my being. How this birthday was so different than the last birthday I’d had where I’d spent the day alone, grieving the loss of my grandparents, wondering if I was seen or known. Ed sang his little heart out and the crowd shared moments of joy, laughter, tears as we sang along to his songs. As the concert was about to end Ed instructed us to take out our phone and use our flashlight on our phone and as he sang we waved our phones in the air as we took in the lyrics, the melody, the moment.

I have to admit that 2023 has been kind to me and that there have been many good moments this year, but this one tops them all. It was a perfect day spent with one of my favorite people, treating ourselves, eating good food, and watching one of my favorite pop artists sending lyrics which encapsulate both the beauty and messiness of life into the humid night air. I felt at peace. I felt seen and known in the moment. I could not help but smile from ear to ear and soak in each moment. And even now the memory washes over me and fills me with a wonder and gratitude that I know I will remember for the rest of my life.

I’m grateful for the breath in my lungs
I’m thankful for good morning hugs
I’m grateful for my community of family and friends
I’m thankful for God’s love that never ends
I’m grateful for a roof over my head
And a comfy, cozy, nice warm bed.
I’m grateful that I have food on my plate
I’m even thankful when I have to wait.
I’m grateful for the clothes on my back
But if I’m being honest sometimes I’m like an amnesiac
Because I forget to count the blessings that I’m grateful for
And sometimes I lose sight of what I have been given and ask for more
But the Lord is good, generous and kind
And brings each one back to my mind
I cannot begin to fathom the many ways
So I sing Him a song of thanks and praise
He has been so good to me
Even working in ways that I cannot see
I’m sure I’m not the only one to be blessed beyond measure
So to you I say cherish each blessing as you would a treasure
Make Thanksgiving more than one day long
Let it be a way of life—a beautiful song
Emanating from heart to your lips
Gratitude rising to the Giver of every perfect gift.
Today I thank the Lord for all He has given
And most importantly for His unending love and provision.

I’m not a robot
I wasn’t made to spew facts over feelings
I feel freely and deeply
I cannot deny my experiences and my story
I have a story that people may know nothing about
There is no formula or algorithm to predict what and how intense I will feel.
I just do.
So mind what you say and do
Because you’ve never walked a mile in my shoes

I’m not a scarecrow full of stuffing and no brain
I know when I am not being respected
I know when there is not an equal exchange of time, energy, effort, and love being given
I know when love is being withheld.
I have learned the difference between tough love and blatant disrespect under the guise of tough love
My brain on the best of days tells me of my worth
My brain on the worst of days may try to lie to me
But that does not change the truth
And the truth is that I deserve to be invested in
I am worth people’s time, energy, effort, and love.
And I will settle for nothing less.

I’m not a tin woman
I have a heart
It beats, it breaks, it bleeds
It can shatter, it can also be stitched up
It is a treasure
Only those who are worthy of it can hold it
But it shines for all to see
Those who approach it must learn to honor it
For they would want theirs to be received in gentleness and love
Just as I do.

I’m not a cowardly lion anymore.
I have found my courage.
And if you disrespect me you will hear me roar
I will roar loudly and mightily for what I deserve
I will no longer tolerate disrespect
I will be my own hero.

I’m not a lot of things
But I am a human
I am a daughter of the King
I had dignity and worth from the moment of my birth
And that will never change
So regardless of how you perceive me
With the utmost respect is how you should receive me.

Oftentimes the best opportunities have the strangest beginnings. This invitation to step out of my comfort zone is no different. It started with a meeting invite labeled “employee evaluation” coming into my inbox. Panic gripped me. I work hard, I do what I am supposed to, and I manage my many responsibilities to the best of my ability so in theory I should have nothing to fear, however anxiety and imposter syndrome make employee evaluations seem like imminent doom. So tearful and fearful I went into my evaluation. To my surprise it didn’t go the way I was expecting. My boss offered me a summer missionary position for a catechetical program called Totus Tuus. I had less than a week to decide how my summer would look.

I had applied for this position in 2018, but was not chosen. Things were simpler then, I thought. Now I had an apartment to take care of, rent and bills that needed to be paid, and I was in the middle of looking for a new roommate as my old roommate had recently moved out. As with many things I brought it to prayer. The words that came to mind were affirming that I should accept this position. My mind and heart were filled with the words of Mary in Luke’s gospel “Behold I am the handmaid of the Lord; be it done unto me according to your word.”

Still trying to discern I told my mom about the opportunity thinking that her practical side would find some reason not to accept it. But I was shocked to find that she was agreeable to it and was willing to work with me to make it happen. With that I decided to say “yes” even though I had no idea what I was saying “yes” to.

Training began and it became a little clearer as to what a typical day would look like. But still I had no idea the extent to which God would stretch and grow me throughout my time as a Totus Tuus missionary. After a commissioning ceremony it was time to go out to our first parish and to teach the children about the kerygma (first proclamation of the Gospel) and salvation history (all the events that lead to Jesus coming into the world and saving us through His death and resurrection….in summation the whole Bible) and the sorrowful mysteries of the rosary. What a tall order for just one week!

This Totus Tuus program allowed me to be a fool for Christ. I normally work in a very professional setting and so there are certain expectations of how I will act, speak, and even look. This opportunity to be a Totus Tuus missionary allowed me to become more child-like. I learned to not take myself too seriously. I sang songs about bananas while stuffing a banana in my mouth, I pretended that I spent 6 summers at magic camp and pulled flowers out of a top hat after praying for them, I got hit with a water balloon covered in paint. I laughed and I played, and I experienced joy probably more than I ever have before.

Another way that I noticed God stretching me is in my spiritual motherhood. I’m a single woman with no children, but at every parish I felt this overwhelming sense of protectiveness over these children and I found myself asking questions that I imagine that every parent asks themselves on a daily basis:

Do they know that I love them? How have I made that visible to them today?
Do they know how much God loves them?
What is it that I needed to know at their age and how do I share that with them?
Is this moment a learning moment or do they just need someone to empathize with them?

As the weeks went on I found my spiritual motherhood growing in a way that it hadn’t before. I found myself tending to scraped knees with band-aids, working to mend hurting hearts through having honest conversations with the children and sharing a bit of my own story with them, I found myself each day just loving them with a profound love and delighting in them. This profound sense of motherhood also opened me up to my daughterhood. I came to realize that in the same way that I had delighted in these children, God (my Father) had always delighted in me.

Another thing that Totus Tuus taught me was healthy detachment. We spent only one week at each of the five parishes we were assigned to. In that one week as mentioned above I came to know and love the children we were teaching. I’ve never been good at letting go….for crying out loud my first and last name combined spells “hang on.” It was rough having to leave them but I also knew that I had to trust that God would water the seeds that had been planted that week. Also, it was always in the back of my mind that this might be my only opportunity to be a Totus Tuus missionary so I couldn’t let my identity be defined by my position or what I was doing because in the end it was a temporary gig. Again I was free to lean into my own daughterhood.

Looking back I realize how Totus Tuus was also an invitation to be vulnerable and to be honest with my teammates about my wounds and to be honest with myself about where I am in the healing process. I ended up sharing with my team about my mental health issues and about my triggers. I had been so afraid to open up to them as we had only just met each other several weeks earlier. But when I shared I was met with love and compassion; I was met where I was. One of my teammates even went so far as to come up with another handshake because she knew that fist bumps trigger me. There were a few challenging moments where some triggers were brought up unknowingly by the people we were ministering to and in those moments, I was faced with my own brokenness and was prompted to ask God for healing of these deep wounds. This honesty has continued even after Totus Tuus has ended. I recently shared with my team members that I am praying a certain prayer for my healing for 54 days and each of my team members is joining me in praying this prayer for the entire 54 days. It has been so beautiful how this experience of community has invited me to be honest about my struggles and how they have rallied around me in them and have interceded for me.

Totus Tuus was one of the best “yeses” that I’ve ever said. I have grown so much in my identity as a daughter of God, in my friendships, in vulnerability and in my leadership skills. So I challenge you dear reader if you are at a crossroads trying to decide between pursuing a good opportunity or not don’t decide based off your comfort zone. Instead ask yourself “what could happen if I say yes?” And then trust that God has a plan better than you could ever imagine.

It is true that the best opportunities have the strangest beginnings, and it is also true that the steps we take out of our comfort zone, the “yeses” we say while trusting God often produce an abundance of growth. Be not afraid.

To whoever may read this,

Have you ever given much thought about plants and how they grow? I have. When I was younger I would sit myself in front of our houseplants captivated by them, observing every minuscule change that had occurred since the last time I’d sat with them. Noticing a plant that looked sickly, dotted with many brown specks and withering away I called it to my grandma’s attention. “Breathe on it,” my grandma told me. “But why” I asked. It’s good for the plants, she responded. So I sat there breathing on that plant trying to revive it with the magic power of my warm breath. I didn’t know the science behind it at the time just naively believed my breath could heal this dying plant which had once provided a pop of color in our home and had created a sense of joy in my heart.

Another time I sat in front of a sickly plant and exclaimed “Mom this plant isn’t doing well.”

“Pick the brown dry pieces off,” my mom told me.

“What is that going to do mom,” I questioned.

My mom explained to me how when a plant is not doing well the strong, healthy plants concentrate the water towards the part of the plant that is not healthy to help restore it. I though that was so beautiful. Over the years I have thought about this intricacy of how plants are designed and I’ve thought deeply about our society. During the height of the pandemic I would think about how our society was responding to the collective trauma. Divisiveness ensued and different camps were formed. Meanwhile people were hurting and afraid. I think about how I write this in the month of May which is Mental Health Awareness month and also how I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety in that very month. There are a lot of hurting people out there and they need our help. See we may not be able to serve everyone. But we can each concentrate our efforts, our kindness, our love, and our prayers on those we encounter frequently. I believe that healed people can heal people. We must be like plants reaching out to hurting people and breathing life into them. In the Catholic Church there is a saint that said “Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes with which He looks compassion on this world. Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good. Yours are the hands through which He blesses all the world (St. Teresa of Availa).” We can all make a difference. And I think all of us making a difference where we have been planted, lending a helping hand to those we encounter everyday can create a chain reaction. And that chain reaction can change the world.

As my closing remarks I want to share an anecdote that has struck me many times. The author G.K. Chesterton once entered a writing contest which asked the participants to answer the question “what’s wrong with the world today?” G.K. Chesterton wrote “I am,” and sent it in. While there is some truth in that, I know that we also can be the change that we want to see. Each moment that we live is a grace—as it’s a moment where we can grow in kindness. Each person we meet has dignity, worth, value, and their own unique story—we can come to know them intimately. Each breath we breathe is a gift and we can use it to breathe life into others. Each word on our lips should seek to heal with compassion–because with our words we can reawaken someones weary soul.

We can learn something from the very design of plants. Through them we learn what is necessary to grow, and what is needed to heal.