JULY 28, 2025

A warm hug from Heaven: Revisiting the place that held my childhood…and how you can do (and feel!) something similar

There’s something powerful about going back.

Not just scrolling through old photos or telling stories at dinner – but really going back. Driving to the place. Smelling the familiar aromas. Letting the music, the laughter, and the memories wrap around you like a favorite blanket.

Sometimes we avoid these places because it hurts too much. Other times, it’s because we’re scared they won’t feel the same without the people who made them special. But every now and then, when we find the courage to return, we’re reminded that love – real love – lingers.

Here’s what happened when I went back to my place…

Every July for 30 years, this place was home.

Our time to be with family we hadn’t seen all year. Our week to immerse in old traditions while making new memories. Our opportunity to leave our problems at the door (or the mountain?) and just enjoy life.

Every July for 30 years, this place was home.

Until it wasn’t. Until Daddy was gone.

After he left us, we couldn’t bring ourselves to go back. How could we drive up the mountain when he was our pilot? How could we lounge by the pool when he reserved our chairs?How could we walk through the halls, smell all the smells, listen to the music, without his hilarious one-liners?

Although I knew it would never be the same, on Tuesday I took a leap of faith.

I wanted to be with family I hadn’t seen all year. I wanted to immerse in old traditions while making new memories. I wanted to leave my to-do list at the bottom of the mountain and just enjoy life.

But most of all, I wanted my KIDS to do all of the above. And I wanted my kids to do this at my favorite childhood place.

I loaded them up, put the car in drive, and off we went.

On the road, I told them all about the place and how much fun I had with my cousins…that they’d get to do the same today. In our cousinly embraces, it was as if no time had passed. At the pool, we swayed to the music of Katrina Love. Yes, she’s still there. At dinner, we counted down until we could go to the game room and arcade. At the show, we laughed until our bellies hurt, more from inside jokes than anything else.

He may not be the pilot anymore, but I was honored to take over that role. To be the one to tell Ella we were driving through a mountain of broccoli.

He may not be the one reserving the chairs, but sitting in them again made me feel like he was right there next to us.

And you know who’s filled with the one-liners now? My son. His namesake. John.

And this was all done on what would have been Grandma Grace’s 98th birthday. The one who introduced us to this place to begin with.

Coincidence? I think not.

Divine intervention? Totally.

In being there again, I wasn’t sad. In being there again, I felt he was right there. I felt his presence more in that 24 hours than I had in so long.

Instead of it being a day of gut-wrenching heartache, the entire experience felt like a warm hug from Heaven.

And boy did I lean in.

And boy did the kids enjoy it.

And boy did I love every nostalgic minute.

Thank you again, Villa Roma, for always doing what you do…without fail.

Until next time…until next Week 29.

See you in 2026…

I didn’t expect to feel peace. I didn’t expect to laugh so hard. I didn’t expect to walk away feeling more connected – to my dad, my kids, my roots.

But I did.

So here’s my gentle nudge to you:

Let your senses guide you back to something that once made you feel alive, connected, grounded.

• Cook your grandma’s signature recipe.
• Walk the halls of your old school.
• Rewatch the movie you and your dad always quoted.
• Visit the beach, the cabin, the diner…that place.

It doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t even have to feel the same.

But give yourself the gift of remembering – and maybe even rebuilding – the moments that made you you.

Because sometimes, the best way to move forward…is to take one meaningful step back.