Gone in 60 Days

A deeper look into our move, our next chapter, and what it means to start over.

Hey friends,

If you’ve watched Episode 1 of the vlog, then you already know the title Gone in 60 Days wasn’t just for drama. It was our actual reality. Sixty days to wrap up our life in Wisconsin. Sixty days to say goodbye to everything familiar. Sixty days to take a leap we’ve been dreaming of for years.

And somehow, we did it.

What you saw in the vlog—the boxes, the chaos, the in-between—was just the surface. Underneath it all was a swirl of grief, gratitude, and deep clarity. Because this move wasn’t just about the weather or a new address, it was about finally saying yes to the life we’re being called to live.

One with less hustle and more intention.

One that allows space for healing, for creativity, and rest.

One where we aren’t just surviving, but choosing to begin again.

Beyond that, there’s a whole other story underneath. One I’m ready to share a little more of today.

What You Didn’t See in the Vlog

Leaving Wisconsin wasn’t just hard.

It was also heartbreaking.

For a long time, staying close to family and friends was what kept me there.

The thought of missing birthdays, holidays, and random Sunday afternoons with my nieces, nephews, and loved ones felt impossible.

And the truth is: Aidyn got to spend 17 beautiful months growing up alongside his cousins.

Building bonds that will stay with him forever.

That time together was a gift.

And somehow, knowing that made it both easier and infinitely harder to leave.

There were hugs at the doorway that lingered extra long.

Tears in the driveway that I tried to blink away.

Moments when I sat in the basement and thought, 'Maybe we shouldn’t go after all. '

Saying goodbye wasn’t just about leaving a house.

It was about closing a chapter we fought hard to create.

And trusting that it was time to turn the page anyway.

Packing Up What You Can’t Replace

There was another layer to this move that I didn’t mention in the vlog.

One that weighed heavier than any moving box ever could.

What you might not know is that we moved into that house for Gavyn.

So he could have his own room, his own space, his own sense of freedom.

We made that home with him and Jaedah in mind.

And after he passed… we stayed.

For almost five years.

In part, we stayed because packing up his life into boxes felt unbearable.

It took almost five years before we could even touch most of Gavyn’s things in his room and bathroom.

Packing up those memories—choosing what to keep, what to gift to family and friends for their memory boxes, and donating items to those in need—was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

Deciding what to keep when you want to keep everything is a kind of grief that no one prepares you for.

We invited his closest friends and family over to pick something meaningful.

And while they carefully chose pieces of him to hold onto, we were choosing too—quietly, painfully, trying to honor him in every decision.

I won’t speak for Anthony—that’s his story to share, if and when he’s ready.

But for me?

This part of my story is something I can probably only ever write about… because speaking it out loud is something I'm not ready for.

This is what transition really looks like.

And if you’re in a season of your own unraveling or beginning again, I want you to know—you’re not alone. I see you. I’m walking it too.

The Realities of the Move

Not everything went smoothly. (Spoiler: Big life changes never do.)

We hired movers who ended up overcharging and scamming us.

It was one of the most frustrating, exhausting parts of this whole experience.

(If you’re moving out of state: triple-check every contract, do not use a moving broker, trust your gut, and advocate for yourself harder than you think you’ll need to.) As I write this, our furniture should arrive today. 7 days later than expected.

But one decision I wouldn’t change?

Shipping our vehicles separately.

It was, hands down, one of the best choices we made. It took a huge logistical and emotional load off during a time that was already packed to the brim.

Still, moving isn’t just about trucks and packing tape.

It’s about carrying the invisible weight.

The grief, the gratitude, the fear of what’s next… and the hope that maybe, just maybe, the future you’re leaping into will be worth it.

Why We’re Here Now

We made it to Florida.

We found a home that feels like a blank canvas—and it’s big enough to welcome the people we love.

We dreamed of creating a space where family could come to visit.

Where we could cook barefoot, windows open, all year round.

Where there’s room for the hard conversations and the belly laughs alike.

We didn’t move to run away.

We moved to open up.

To heal deeper.

To live softer.

To finally say yes to the life that was waiting for us all along.

What’s Next?

We’re here.

We’re unpacking—literally and emotionally.

And while I’m not ready to show you the whole house yet, that’s coming soon in Episode 2.

Right now, I’m giving myself permission to land.

To breathe.

To honor how far we’ve come.

And very soon…

I’ll be announcing the title of the book I wrote throughout all of this.

A book that feels like the truest, most vulnerable extension of everything we’ve been building, surviving, and growing toward.

I can’t wait to share it with you.

Until then, thank you.

For being here.

For holding space for the beautiful, the messy, and the deeply human moments in between.

We’re not just moving.

We’re remembering.

We’re healing.

We’re becoming.

With love and a still-half-unpacked heart,

Nadine

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🎥 Missed Episode 1 of the vlog?

Watch it here → Watch Gone in 60 Days

✨ Want the first look at the book title + exclusive behind-the-scenes reflections?

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