For Debbie Debbie

Debbie with the joyful, quirky spark I adore.

I opened the text this morning at 5:30am. 

"Mama. Hey sweetie we lost her. She loved you so much! I will keep in touch about the memorial. Big hugs from me and my mom." 

This message was from her lovely daughter Jessica. She had messaged me often over the past year or so with updates on my friend Debbie.

I met Debbie Murray around 2009'ish at the UNT Health Science Center, and from the very beginning she was one of those people I just… clicked with. We had several Debbies in our office but she was the original. So when someone would ask me which Debbie I was talking about I’d say, “you know… Debbie Debbie.” It rolled out of my mouth once and stuck forever. She always embraced my affectionate little nickname for her. Eventually, even my kids, family, and friends began to know her by this nickname.

Our birthdays are only one day apart, which we treated like a tiny private holiday. I was 35 when I met her. We were from different generations but our friendship felt completely natural. That was one of my favorite things about her. Some people make you forget age differences entirely. Debbie was one of those rare souls who could connect across any gap with people she met.

She had this wonderfully quirky sense of humor. She was a collector of unusual and unfortunate names the way other people collect seashells. The first time she plopped a list of them in my hand, we'd laugh until we had tears in our eyes. I wish I could share some but those poor humans had names that were wildly inappropriate. Ha. Anyway, she had a way of finding the odd, delightful corners of life and turning them into stories worth retelling.

Her years as a prospect researcher gave her a whole library of stories about people, and she told them with warmth and curiosity. People and their stories were ALWAYS important in her work in fundraising. Even when I started digging into my own ancestry she gave me great advice. I think she’d smile knowing I’ve put this out into the world for someone to find someday. She loved discovering little pieces of other people’s stories, and now this is a piece of hers. It just feels right. 

Debbie spoke so fondly of her daughters and of her family. One of her last Facebook messages to me, unknowing that it would be her last, was about Nicki and her ‘great‑grands.’ She often posted memorials for those she'd lost and missed. Family was at the center of her heart. I could hear the love in her voice every time she talked about them. And I'm honored that she extended a similar steady affection to me as I built my own family through adoption and a later‑in‑life marriage. She cheered me on, supported me, and reminded me I wasn’t doing any of life alone.

One year, we went together to the "Empty Bowls" event in Fort Worth to support the Tarrant County Food Bank. I still have my bowl...it holds our coffee filters at home. That photo is below. She also supported St. Jude heavily and causes for people who were hurting and in need among us. And she supported local animal shelters. I even went once with her to the Humane Society when she was looking for a new, older shelter pup. I almost went home with a 3-legged dog myself, named Ilean! Ha. Thinking of Debbie Debbie brings these scriptures to mind:

Proverbs 17:22 + Galatians 6:2  “A cheerful heart is good medicine... Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”

Over these years, we sent each other funny texts, Facebook messages, and encouragement. The last time I hugged her neck was in a hospital room in Fort Worth before she moved back to South Texas to be closer to her family. I lived over two hours away at that point but took PTO so we could have that moment.

I miss her already. I love her. But as I get all weepy I can hear her in my head telling me not to cry too hard. She’d want me to remember her with laughter and happiness, not get swallowed up in my grief. So like I do with all my friends who have gone ahead before me, I have decided to carry a little of her joyful, edgy humor forward into my own life.

Seventeen years of friendship is no small thing. It changes you. It stays with you. 

Debbie would have been 75 on March 1st. So I’ll keep celebrating our almost‑shared birthday, because some connections really don’t end. They just shift into a different kind of presence.

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My photos are from an ancient cell phone so they are small and blurry but I treasure them. 

Campus Pride work event

At a Gala event - when we both smile our eyes disappear. LOL

Empty Bowls event - here's us trying to keep our smiling eyes open. ha <3

 

Rest well, my friend.  

The Night I Scared Myself

The headlights appeared before the realization did. Two bright orbs aimed straight at me on a dark, unfamiliar two-lane country road, and my stomach plummeted as my mind tried to make sense of it.

"He's in my lane!" 

I flashed my lights. The car moved over. And with a deep sigh, I kept driving.

But a few minutes later, a scary fact hit me harder than the original fear.
 
I was the one in the wrong lane.

In fact, I shouldn't have been in either of them. As it turned out I had missed the crossover on a divided country road. There weren't just two lanes, there were four! Maybe it was the darkness, maybe fatigue, or maybe the simple fact that there were no signs marking the median and no other cars around at the time to give me a visual cue at night.

Instantly, I found a safe place to cross over. I thank Jesus I made it home that night.

But my mind did not follow me. Instead, it stayed on that country road replaying the worst angles of the moment: the fear, the mistake, the blaming internal voice saying, "how could I miss that?" My brain did not replay the part where I stayed calm, the moment I corrected course, or that everyone got home safely.

Reflecting now, it is wild how quickly we forget our competence and cling to our errors as if they are proof of something.

And this does not just happen on the road. We do this in every corner of our lives. Below are some examples:

• You botch a project’s first draft but rework it and deliver something stronger. (your brain jabs, "you should’ve done better the first time”) 

• You lock yourself out of the house but remember the spare key you hid months ago. (your brain jabs, “you weren’t paying attention”) 

• Your foot slips on a stair yet you catch the railing before you go down. (your brain jabs, “you’re so clumsy”) 

• Your left your wallet behind in your desk at lunch but you realize your digital ID can save the day. (your brain jabs, “you always forget things”) 

• You trip in public and turn it into accidental choreography that makes people smile. (your brain jabs, “you can be so embarrassing”) 

These examples are very human moments. They could feel like failures in the instant they happen and as your brain tries to figure out how to not let them happen again. However, each one also contains a success that matters more. Mistakes are not proof of incompetence. They are actually proof that you are human and capable of adjusting in real time.

And if a mistake is a moment, then your response is the story. And most of us are telling better stories than we realize!

So instead of falling into the “How could I do that,” blame game, try asking:

• What did I do well under stress?
• What helped me recover?
• What does this show about my ability to stay present?
• What strength showed up, even quietly?

I made a mistake, and yes, it was a serious one. But I saw it, corrected it, and got home. That was not failure. That was presence under pressure.

If a mistake is the spark, failure is letting the fire spread. Success is stamping out the flames. Both are possible conclusions, but our brains fixate on the error instead of the outcome. So the next time something goes wrong but you recover, watch for the cruel brain jabs and notice not just the slip, but the steadiness that followed. 

That is a part worth remembering.

2026: My Unicorn Year

In a recent podcast this question was given, “What would need to happen in 2026 so that, when you look back, you’d see it as a success?” 

After reflecting, I've decided it's magic and playfulness! This year I want to inhabit my life with a lightness, curiosity, and a childlike sense of wonder.

A unicorn is the perfect symbol for this year because to me it embodies: wonder, rarity, strength, and unapologetic magic. When I look back on 2026, I want to see a year where I stayed present, protected my creative joy, and let myself be playful even when the world felt heavy. 

So welcome, to my Unicorn Year! I’m choosing to live it enchanted. 

🦄

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My 2026 Unicorn Year

This is the year I live more magically.

✧ EMOTIONAL POSTURE ✧  

Present, not ruminating  

Light, not weighed down  

Curious, not on autopilot

Self‑held, not self‑monitoring  

✧ GROUNDING RITUAL ✧  

Humming (returning to my breath + body)  

✧ PROTECTIVE PHRASES ✧  

“Their mood is not my assignment."

"My life is mine and it’s magical.”  

✧ WHAT THIS FEELS LIKE ✧  

Relaxed shoulders  

Noticing small beauty  

Calm thoughts  

Playfulness without apology  

✧ WEEKLY MAGIC ✧  

One small adventure  

One moment of wonder  

One thing to look forward to  

✧ HOW I WANT TO BE SEEN ✧  

Playful, Present, Light‑hearted  

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