2025 — Another Year in the Books
As we wind down 2025, I want to take a moment to reflect on what a year it’s been. Consider this my holiday card to you—which is funny, because you’d think the stationery girl would’ve mailed something by now. I’ve been slacking…but you are not allowed to slack. Buy the cards. 😉
Where do I even begin?
I wrote. A LOT.
Which still makes me laugh, because younger Angie never once dreamed of being a writer. I loved reading. I loved pen-pal letters. But an author? Writing articles in magazines and newspapers? Absolutely not on my bingo card.
During Jack’s cancer journey, as I wrote on his CaringBridge site, so many people gently nudged me: You should write a book. I kept blogging. I kept journaling. But a book still felt far away. And yet…here we are. I’m officially a six-time published author (yes, the anthologies absolutely count), and I recently had a dream about another book—one that I truly believe could speak to so many hearts. Stay tuned.
We kicked off 2025 with an unforgettable trip to New York City for the launch of Resilient A.F.: Stories of Resilience. I finally met my “Griefy” community in real life—people I had been Zooming, messaging, and writing alongside for months. I even met my dear friend Moira, all the way from Spain. Seeing our faces on a billboard in Times Square felt surreal.
Proud doesn’t even cover it.
Humbled. Loved. Honored.
Griefy…every minute of it—just with a smile.
Spring was quieter, but steady. I showed up. I spoke at events. I shared my books. I sold a lot of cards. I kept building Butterflies + Halos—slowly, intentionally, and at the pace it needs to grow. I’m incredibly proud of that.
In early May, I traveled to Charlotte, North Carolina for the launch of Grace & Grit: Stories of Overcoming Life’s Hardest Challenges with Resilience, through Hope*Writers. Between podcast recordings, a writing class, photos, a live online book release, and a beautiful dinner with fellow writers, it was a trip that filled me up creatively and personally.
Not long after—because apparently I don’t believe in spacing things out—my third anthology of the year released: Stories of Friends and Family Lost, compiled by Dr. Trunnis Goggins II. This one was deeply personal, focusing on Jack and my perspective as a widow walking through his cancer journey. I couldn’t attend the NYC billboard showcase this time, but watching it online still filled me with the same pride.
The end of May brought rest and joy. I spent a week and a half in Raleigh with one of my best friends, her family, and her grandkids—soaking up laughter and little-kid energy. From there, we headed to the Outer Banks to celebrate her 50th birthday with friends and husbands, saltwater therapy included.
Summer was full of golf, pool days, family, and friends. I continued writing articles for multiple publications, appeared on local news, spoke at events, and shared stories wherever I was invited. (All of those pieces live on my website if you ever want to catch up.)
Fall brought concerts and Nebraska football—starting strong and ending…well… et’s not dwell. Husker Volleyball, however, was incredible all year, finishing 33-1. Truly the best, even battling illness toward the end. So proud of those women.
As we close out the year, Butterflies + Halos has been rocking. The last few weeks alone have been a whirlwind of orders, new wholesale accounts, and deep gratitude. Thank you doesn’t feel big enough. I’ve also hosted two successful voice-based courses this year—Sips of Sunshine and The Holiday Heartlift—offering bite-sized support for grievers in hard seasons.
I’ve created custom card orders for organizations, recorded many podcast interviews, and continued sharing my story again and again. While parts of it stay the same, every telling feels meaningful—because I get to keep my loved ones’ voices alive.
As we end 2025 together, I invite you to pause and reflect:
What did this year teach you?
What did you let go of?
What did you gain?
These don’t need to be big revelations. Often, the quiet learnings matter most. This year taught me the power of slowing down and the peace that comes from releasing what no longer fits. Hard things were still present, but good things came too. There is room for both.
We are not meant to live in comparison—of who we should be or where we should be. Follow your soul’s intuition. Sit with what your journey looks like.
I believe 2026 will bring change—some beautiful, some heavy. For those walking through the very hard right now, I see you. Your wings will grow, even when it doesn’t feel like it yet.
Thank you for allowing my family into your lives. We wish you abundant blessings, good health, and moments of unexpected joy as we step into a new year.
With so much love,
Angie
XOXOXO
PS. As I prepare my first blog of 2026, I’ll be sharing how I choose my Word of the Year and why it’s been such a grounding practice for me. I hope you’ll join me.