You were always growing

 Whether it's a hug from your parents, laughing until you cant breathe with your best friend, listening to your grandparents tell a story from when they were your age, watching your favorite show with your partner, taking your dog to the park, running errands with your sibling because you'd rather do it with company than by yourself, cooking dinner with friends to the soundtrack of the songs you grew up listening to, or even just siting in comfortable silence with the people you love — one day you'll see that all these little moments are the ones that made your life mean something.

~ Charlotte Freeman excerpt from "You Were Always Growing"

Life is like a train

 My grandma had a saying she repeated often: “Life is like a train, child. You don’t stay at every stop, and not everyone rides with you until the end.”

As a child, I didn’t really understand what she meant. I thought it was just one of her old-timey sayings, like the ones she whispered while sewing or baking pies. But now, as the years pass and my own hair turns gray, I see the truth in her words.

When you’re young, the train is loud, fast, and crowded. Everyone seems to be on board—friends from school, neighbors, coworkers, family. The compartments are filled with laughter, plans, and noise. It feels like the ride will last forever.

But as the journey goes on, people get off. Some step off at new stops because their path takes them elsewhere. Some are lost suddenly, leaving behind empty seats we can’t bear to look at. And slowly, the train grows quieter.

That’s when Grandma’s wisdom comes alive. She said the secret wasn’t to mourn every passenger who leaves, but to cherish the ones who are still sitting beside you. To look out the window and notice the scenery, because it changes constantly—sunrises, fields, cities, mountains, all part of the same ride.

Now, when I visit her memory in my heart, I can almost hear her voice:

“Don’t be afraid when the train empties out. Be grateful you had company for as long as you did. And when your stop finally comes, step off with peace, knowing you traveled well.”

Life really is like a train—filled with comings and goings, goodbyes and reunions, noise and quiet. And if we’re lucky, by the time we reach the last station, we’ll realize the ride was beautiful, not because it was perfect, but because it was ours.

Credit - Echoes of Insight

The stages we walk

 🌿 The Stages We Walk 🌿

Life has always felt to me like a long walk down a familiar road.

When we’re children, the road is wide and full of wonder. We run barefoot, chasing fireflies, with knees scraped from riding bikes and bedtime stories whispered under blanket forts. We hold our parents’ hands, never worrying about how far the road might go. The world feels endless, and so do we.

In our twenties and thirties, the pace changes. We walk faster. We chase goals, careers, love, and the dream of building something that’s ours. Sometimes, we stumble. Sometimes, we sprint. These are the years of late-night deadlines, little league games, and family dinners squeezed between busy schedules. The road feels uphill, but the climb gives us strength.

By our forties and fifties, the road begins to level out. We are no longer running — we are walking with purpose. We carry children on our shoulders, mortgages on our backs, and hopes in our hearts. It is tiring, yes, but also beautiful. Because these are the years when we discover what truly matters: not the pace, but the company we keep.

Then, the sixties, seventies, and beyond. The road gets quieter. Our steps slow, but our eyes see more than they ever did before. We notice the shade of the trees, the softness of the breeze, the sound of laughter drifting from behind us. These are the years of holding grandchildren’s hands, planting gardens, and writing letters that will outlive us. We know the truth now: it was never about how fast we walked — it was about who walked beside us.

And one day, each of us will reach the end of the road. That part is not sad — it is simply part of the journey. Because even when our footsteps fade, the echoes remain in the hearts of those who loved us. The road continues for them, carrying pieces of us forward.

💡 The lesson? Don’t rush the stages. Don’t sprint past the moments. Every chapter has its own beauty — from the barefoot days of childhood to the slower steps of old age.

Because in the end, life isn’t about how quickly we walked… but how deeply we loved along the way. ❤️

#fblifestyle

Being a grandparent

 👵👴 What It Really Means to Be a Grandparent 👵👴

When people ask me what it means to be a grandparent, I smile. Because being a grandparent isn’t about gifts or candy or spoiling the kids (though yes, there’s plenty of that).

It’s about something deeper.

It’s about holding a tiny hand that reminds you of the child you once held decades ago — your own son or daughter. It’s about watching history repeat itself, but softer this time, because now you have the patience to see the beauty in the small things.

Being a grandparent means knowing you don’t have to be perfect. Your job isn’t to discipline or to plan the future. Your job is to love — simply, unconditionally, endlessly.

It’s sitting at the edge of a soccer field, clapping louder than anyone else, even if they don’t score a single goal. It’s teaching them how to bake bread the way your mother once taught you, and watching their little fingers press into the dough with giggles.

It’s the phone call that says, “Grandma, I miss you,” or the picture drawn with crayons that says “Papa” in shaky letters. It’s your lap becoming the safest place in the world, your stories becoming the bedtime songs they’ll carry forever.

Most of all, being a grandparent means realizing something: the legacy you leave behind isn’t in wealth or possessions. It’s in the way your grandchildren remember how you made them feel.

One day, they won’t recall every toy you bought them. But they will remember how you clapped when they sang off-key, how you listened when they whispered secrets, how you made them believe they were enough.

And maybe that’s the greatest gift of all.

✨ Final Word: Being a grandparent is more than a role. It’s a second chance to love even deeper, laugh even louder, and leave behind a warmth that outlives you.

#fblifestyle

The Beauty if Growing Older

 🌅 “The Beauty of Growing Older” 🌿✨

When we are young, we rush.

We race toward milestones — the first job, the first house, the first child — convinced that life is measured only by accomplishments. We think youth is where all the beauty lies.

But as the years pass, something shifts. We begin to see that the truest treasures aren’t in what we achieved quickly, but in what we’ve carried with us slowly.

The laugh lines on our faces are not marks to erase — they are evidence that joy lived here. The silver in our hair isn’t a loss of youth — it’s the shimmer of resilience, proof that storms have been weathered and wisdom has been earned. The slower steps we take now don’t signal the end of the journey — they remind us that we’ve already walked countless miles worth remembering.

Yes, growing older means letting go of certain seasons — the days of chasing toddlers, the late nights of youth, the voices of loved ones who now live only in memory. But it also means embracing new gifts: quiet mornings with coffee, the laughter of grandchildren, the peace that comes from knowing what truly matters.

Aging doesn’t take life from us. It gives it back in a different form — softer, deeper, and more meaningful. It teaches us that presence is worth more than speed, that love outlasts loss, and that legacy is written not in years, but in kindness.

The truth is, not everyone gets the privilege of growing older. Each candle on the cake is not a reminder of time lost, but of time granted. Each year is another chapter to love more fiercely, to forgive more freely, to notice the beauty in ordinary days.

🌿 Because the beauty of growing older is this:

It means we were given the chance to live fully, to love deeply, and to leave behind a light that will keep shining long after we’re gone. ❤️✨

#fblifestyle

It's about who's holding it with you.

 “The morning was quiet, with only the songs of the birds weaving through the air, and the two friends sat side by side with steaming cups in their hands. Pooh looked down into his tea and said softly, ‘It doesn’t seem very special, does it?’

Eeyore took a sip, his ears drooping as they usually did, but his voice was warm. ‘Oh, but it is special, Pooh. It’s special because I’m drinking it with you.’

Pooh thought about that for a while, as he often did when Eeyore said something quietly true. And then he smiled the kind of smile that starts in the heart before it reaches the face.

‘You’re right,’ said Pooh. ‘Perhaps it’s never really about what’s in the cup, but about who’s holding it with you.’

And so they sat together, two friends with nothing extraordinary before them except the extraordinary gift of each other’s company. The tea grew cooler, the morning grew brighter, and in the simple act of sharing, the world felt a little more beautiful.”

Joy

 *"There are certain mornings in the Hundred Acre Wood when everything feels a little more golden, as if the sun has taken extra care to spill its light over the flowers, the trees, and even the smallest of creatures. On such mornings, it seems that the world is not in a hurry, and neither are you.

Pooh stood quite still among the tall grass, his nose just brushing against the soft wings of a butterfly that had chosen him for its resting place. He smiled the kind of smile that comes when one remembers that happiness does not need to be chased—it often finds you when you are standing quietly enough to notice.

‘It’s a funny thing,’ Pooh thought, ‘how a butterfly is so very light that you can hardly feel it at all. And yet, somehow, it makes your whole self feel lighter just to have it near. Perhaps that is what joy is like—it doesn’t make a loud noise, or take up much space, but it changes everything all the same.’

And as the butterflies danced around him, drifting on the golden air, Pooh realized that the most wonderful treasures were not jars of honey or great adventures, but small, fleeting moments—tiny miracles that, once they landed in your heart, stayed there forever."*