From Grief to Freedom: How Our Barn Renovation Is Shaping an Intentional Early Retirement Life | Grief & Joy

“I’m planning for early retirement.”

Not because I won the lottery.
Not because I want to sit on a beach doing nothing.
And definitely not because life has been easy.

I’m planning for early retirement because life taught me—far earlier than I ever expected—that time is not guaranteed.

As a young widow, I learned that the future we imagine can change in a single moment.
The plans.
The timeline.
The version of life we assumed we’d have.

And while grief changes you forever, it also has a way of clarifying what actually matters.

For me, that clarity has slowly evolved into two deeply connected things:

• Building Grief & Joy

• Renovating our barn and property into a life that feels intentional, peaceful, creative, and free

On the surface, a greeting card/gift shop company and a barn renovation may not seem related.

But for me, they are part of the exact same story.

The Barn Isn’t Just a Project

The barn has become symbolic of something much bigger.

Every board we save and re-purpose.
Every mess we clean up and somehow make seem new.
Every small improvement that slowly transforms the space.

It all mirrors what grief recovery often looks like.

Not a magical overnight transformation.
Not “moving on.”
Not pretending life didn’t crack open.

But rebuilding.
Slowly.
Intentionally.
With equal parts exhaustion, hope, humor, learning, and stubbornness.

Some days the barn feels overwhelming.
Some days it feels exciting.
Some days it feels deeply healing and calming.

And while the renovation itself matters, what matters even more is what we’re building through it:

A life with more flexibility.
More creativity.
More connection.
More time outside.
More room to breathe.

A life that doesn’t revolve entirely around surviving Monday through Friday just to recover for two days on the weekend.

Early Retirement Isn’t About “Doing Nothing”

I think people hear the phrase “early retirement” and imagine escaping life.

But for many people—especially those who have experienced profound loss—it’s actually about fully participating in life.

It’s about reclaiming your time.

For me, early retirement doesn’t mean disappearing from work.
It means creating work and a lifestyle that feel aligned with who I am now.

It means:

• Running Grief & Joy creatively and intentionally

• Spending more time building meaningful projects

• Having flexibility to travel in our camper van (a girl can dream!)

• Creating slower mornings and less burnout

• Having space for relationships, healing, and joy

• Prioritizing experiences over endless hustle

After loss, your definition of success changes.

You start asking different questions:

• Am I actually enjoying my life?

• Am I spending time on what matters most?

• If everything changed tomorrow, would I be proud of how I lived today?

Those questions can be uncomfortable.
But they can also completely reshape your future.

Grief Has a Way of Rearranging Priorities

Before becoming widowed, I think I viewed retirement the way many people do:

Something that happens someday.
After decades of work.
After enough money.
After enough achievement.

But grief disrupts the illusion that we always have time.

That realization can feel terrifying.
But eventually, it can also become incredibly clarifying.

I don’t want to wait until I’m exhausted to start living differently.
I don’t want to postpone joy until some distant milestone.

I want to build a life now that includes:

• meaningful work

• financial intention

• creativity

• freedom

• rest

• humor

• nature

• connection

• flexibility

That’s what this barn represents to me.

Not perfection.
Not luxury.
Not some curated social media fantasy.

Just a conscious decision to build a life that actually feels like mine.

Building Grief & Joy Alongside This Life

Grief & Joy was born from one simple realization: after losing Todd and becoming a widow, my life forevermore became this strange combination of grief and joy.

Shortly after becoming widowed, COVID hit, making support and connection even harder to find. At the same time, my boys left for college, and I became an empty nester. I started navigating peri-menopause, and I found myself helping my aging parents more.

Life changed fast.

And through all of those transitions, one thing became incredibly clear:

People are desperate for more honest human connection.
Especially during life’s hardest moments.

After loss, I realized how uncomfortable grief makes people.
How often people want to support one another but don’t know what to say.

That’s where humor, honesty, creativity, and connection became so important to me.

What started as a greeting card and gift shop idea has slowly evolved into something much bigger.

Not just products, but a reflection of the kind of life I want to build.

One centered around:

• meaningful connection

• creativity

• authenticity

• humor during hard seasons

• supporting people through life transitions

• building community through shared human experiences

Creating Grief & Joy has brought unexpected growth into my life.
It’s pushed me to learn new skills, challenged me creatively, connected me with incredible people, and given me a new outlet for storytelling, reflection, humor, and healing.

And honestly, it has reminded me that reinvention is possible at any stage of life.

At 52—almost 53—I’m not trying to escape life.
I’m trying to build one that feels more aligned with who I’ve become.

Right now, Grief & Joy certainly isn’t funding early retirement. But my hope is that over time it continues to evolve from a gift shop idea into a lifestyle and life transitions brand rooted in honesty, humor, resilience, and connection.

Something that helps people feel seen and supported during the messy, complicated, funny, heartbreaking, and beautiful seasons of life.

And in many ways, this barn renovation and this business are teaching me the same lesson:

Meaningful things are built slowly.
With patience.
With creativity.
And usually with a little chaos too.

The Kind of Retirement I’m Actually Chasing

I’m not chasing luxury.

I’m chasing freedom.

Freedom to decide how my days look.
Freedom to build instead of constantly reacting.
Freedom to spend a Tuesday morning working on a barn project.
Freedom to take a camper van trip or go snorkeling.
Freedom to create meaningful products and content.
Freedom to prioritize mental health and peace.

I think many people secretly want this.
But we’re often taught that slowing down means laziness.
Or that success only counts if it looks stressful.

I don’t believe that anymore.

I think there’s incredible courage in building a smaller, more intentional, deeply fulfilling life.

If You’ve Been Reconsidering Your Own Life Lately…

Maybe you don’t want “early retirement” exactly.
Maybe you simply want:

• more flexibility

• less burnout

• more time with people you love

• work that feels meaningful

• slower living

• financial freedom

• more creativity

• more peace

That doesn’t make you unmotivated.
It makes you human.

And sometimes the hardest experiences in life are the very things that force us to finally ask ourselves what kind of life we truly want. If this resonates with you, be sure to join the Grief & Joy Club.

A Few Grief & Joy Favorites for This Chapter

This season of life has me especially drawn toward cards and gifts that celebrate authenticity, humor, resilience, and meaningful connection.

• Funny sympathy cards that say what people are actually thinking

• Encouragement cards for friends navigating hard seasons

• Funny cards that celebrate life's moments like birthdays and retirement with laughter
  

Because honestly? Reinventing your life deserves to be acknowledged too.

Final Thoughts

The barn renovation probably won’t ever be fully “done.” Shoot, we might even start on another barn!
Neither will healing.
Neither will building a meaningful life.

But maybe that’s the point.

Maybe life isn’t about finally arriving at some perfect destination.
Maybe it’s about intentionally building something meaningful with the time we have.

Board by board.
Choice by choice.
Season by season.

For me, that looks like Grief & Joy.
A renovated barn.
A simpler future.
More freedom.
More honesty.
More joy.

And a deep understanding that life is far too short to keep postponing the things that matter most.