I’ve seen quite a few social media posts saying goodbye to 2025 and good riddance. I’ve seen photos with 2025 pictured as a full-blown dumpster fire.

That hasn’t been my experience.

If I had to sum up my 2025 in one word, it would be growth.

That doesn’t mean I forget some of the worst days, months, and years I’ve experienced. I can’t and I won’t. But as the years have passed, my outlook has changed. It has grown. I’ve learned that when we focus only on the dumpster fires of our lives, we forget to look in another direction and notice the people and moments that are actually beautiful.

I don’t know about you, but when I focus on the worst, the negative, the things I don’t like or disapprove of, my attitude shifts. Everything starts to look dark through that same lens.

So in 2025, I tried to stop focusing solely on the bad and instead find, even if only a few things, the good. Even in the middle of an emotional low, I tried to find something positive to hold onto.

When we were devastated by the death of Lou in October, Trey and I found ourselves smiling through tears, imagining Tom and Lou together again, back to being a team. When I injured my leg and had to work hard to pull myself out of that slump, I eventually recognized that the injury forced me to be still, quiet and reflect on so many things.

I still recognize the hard moments. I still feel them.
But I try not to live there.

So for 2025, here are some of my highlights:

• The Dole Bill was signed into law in January, and most importantly, the provision allowing access to skilled care for qualifying veterans was implemented in September.
• I started working again, doing something I genuinely enjoy, which makes it not feel like work at all.
• I had the honor of attending not one, but two events in El Paso, Texas, supporting military and veteran caregivers.
• I celebrated 55 years on this planet in March. I used to complain about getting older. Now I embrace the wrinkles, the gray, and the stiffer joints—because growing old is a privilege Tom and so many others never got.
• I went on multiple incredible camping trips with Grant, both just the two of us and with his kids.
• I had a sudden opportunity to see Andrea Bocelli in concert with my Cy, an experience you don’t just watch, you feel.
• I had the honor of speaking at several events, sharing my lived experience as a caregiver and survivor to bring more awareness to our community.
• I supported and assisted caregivers in other states as they advocated within their own communities.
• I began to feel more peace about the life I am creating, which no longer includes guilt (or at least not as much), but peace and gratitude, without ever forgetting the cost that was paid for that peace.
• That peace also comes from building a relationship that values honest communication and healing, one that doesn’t erase the past, but honors it while moving forward.
• I shared many beautiful experiences with Grant, including seeing amazing places and attending not one, but two galas. Both of which supported what is near and dear to my heart-the veteran and caregiver community.
• And I practiced gratitude and more importantly, grace. Giving grace to myself, as well as to others.

I have a lot to be thankful for. Yes, there was pain in 2025, and at times it tried to overshadow the good. But there are no perfect years.

But I’ll take growth over bitterness, gratitude over resentment, and peace over guilt—every time.

That’s not toxic positivity. That’s survival with intention and I plan on being giving that same effort I did in 2025 to 2026!

Happy New Year Troops!

Lara