This week, I had the honour of joining my friend Susan’s book club at her cottage north of Toronto. What a beautiful group of women. Susan had invited me to also join them for a sleepover too, at a place my family and I once called home.Her cottage is our old cottage, where my former partner and I raised our four children and shared more than twenty years of family life.

The lake, the road, the neighbours and the cottage were all part of a place of safety, of love, of belonging. Returning brought back so many memories. The games and the dance parties, the movie nights, the meals, the gatherings with friends, the time on the lake and the countless adventures we shared. There were no tears, only warmth. Such a beautiful chapter in my life and in the lives of my family.

Susan and I have become good friends, and it means so much to see the love she and her family have for this cottage and this lake. To witness how a place that brought our family together is now doing the same for theirs. They also hold such care and respect for our history here, for the years when we were the stewards of this beautiful place. There is something deeply moving about being welcomed back into a home where you have shared so much love, and being able to experience the love that another family is bringing to it.

We sat in the gazebo, exploring the many questions that had emerged as the women read Sincerely, Katherine. We talked about my life, the love and patience of my family and friends, and the fear and courage that can accompany following our hearts. That deeper calling that seems to come from our soul, from our essence, towards the fullness of who we are. What inspires us? What ignites our heart and soul? And what happens in our lives and our relationships when we begin to listen?

We spoke about the anxieties and hurts that can come with facing our fears, and about the different ways people accompany us through life. Some relationships are brief, yet leave us with an experience or a lesson that stays. Others last for a season, helping us learn and grow. And some last a lifetime, moving through their own seasons, their own periods of change and renewal.

After the gazebo and sunset over the lake, we returned to the cottage for a beautiful meal at the dining room table, where my family and friends once sat. More memories came flooding back, including a sing-along with my brother-in-law George, my friend Dawn and my dear friend Al, may he rest in peace. How much we had shared around that table. And here I was, gathered around it again, sharing a meal and creating new memories with friends.

Later, we moved into the living room by the fire, and Patricia started the dance party. Just like old times. The kind of dance party where the group slowly thins out as the evening carries on. Some make an Irish exit, while others give everyone a hug before leaving. And then there are those who carry on into the wee hours of the morning, moving from dancing to a hypercompetitive ping-pong tournament in the garage.

Over breakfast the following morning, we continued the conversations we had begun in the gazebo and replayed the antics of the night before. The deeper questions and the fun of being together, carrying on into another day.

Beyond beautiful.

It is such an honour to experience how Sincerely, Katherine. speaks to women and men, to people from so many walks of life, well beyond the LGBT community. This was my hope in sharing my story, and it is my hope in sharing the stories of the guests on The Sincerely Show. That in spending time with another person’s life, we might feel seen in our own. That we might feel less alone, find hope, and discover something that brings meaning or possibility to our journey.

There is so much we can explore when we give one another the space, the care and the curiosity to do so. A question about someone else’s life can bring us closer to something within ourselves. Something we long for, something that inspires us, something we have been afraid to follow. And perhaps, in hearing how another person found their way, we begin to find a little more courage for our own.

Fear is not the place to stop. Fear is the place to be curious. To observe what is happening within us, to listen for that deeper calling, and to explore the possibility of growing towards a fuller expression of ourselves. I hope these conversations offer some of that possibility, some sense of the love and freedom that can come as we find our own way.

I look forward to seeing this group again, and to the next opportunity to gather with people who want to explore these deeper questions. There is such a gift in being curious about one another, in receiving another person’s story and allowing it to touch our own.

And there was so much of that gift in this visit. The love Susan and her family have for the cottage and for one another. Their respect for our family’s history, and my joy in witnessing theirs unfold. The questions in the gazebo, the memories around the table, the dancing and the morning after. This exchange of love, of care, of curiosity, this feeling of being seen by one another, is one of the most special gifts I think we can receive.

Thank you, Susan, for the gift of your friendship, and for welcoming me home to your home, the place my family and I once called ours.

So much love and so much respect.