Kinston has a way of providing me what I need. My love for this town is a little strange, even to me, but I’ve never lived anywhere that has done so much for me and my family. This year has been surreal in ways I never expected. Usually, when the holidays roll around, the stress of everything I can’t do steals the joy of the season. But thanks to the life I’ve built here, I’m heading into 2025 with hope—something I once thought was a luxury meant for other people.

Eleven months ago, Derrick proposed, and 2024 kicked off with the daunting task of planning a wedding. Let me confess: I can’t even plan an office luncheon when someone hands me directions and their credit card. So planning a wedding? Terrifying. What I want and what I can create are rarely the same. What 45-year-old woman dreams of an Alice in Wonderland masquerade ball wedding, at dusk, on a rooftop, on Friday the 13th? Me. And who has no idea how to make that happen? Also me. But here’s the thing about living in a place like Kinston—I have friends with the strangest and most wonderful skills. Turns out, if I’m willing to let people help, perhaps we have a shot at pulling it off.

It’s never too late to learn something new. Writing has always been my one consistent talent, the thing that feels as natural as breathing. But last year, a friend pushed me out of my comfort zone. They asked me to be a vendor at the Lenoir County Farmers Market for Super Saturday. I said yes before I could think of a good reason not to, and before I knew it, cranberry chutney became my unexpected hit. It sold so well that I signed up again this year. People actually came up to me, asking when I’d make more. So maybe I’m not a one-trick pony after all.

Apparently, that runs in the family. My father, who spent his whole life building houses, didn’t pick up a paintbrush until he was over 60. Now? He’s creating art that blows my mind—masterpieces that could hang next to work by tenured artists. Sure, I’m biased. But this is my column, and I’m allowed to brag. He’s humble, of course, but brave enough to put himself out there. He participated in the Veterans Art Show hosted by the Kinston Community Council for the Arts, and if you didn’t get a chance to see it, you truly missed out.

This year hasn’t been without its struggles. My daughter’s small family has been through the wringer. After their third baby was born, the house they were renting was sold out from under them. There’s never a good time for toddlers to be without a home, but during the holidays? It’s especially rough. My daughter, ever the fighter, has been doing everything she can to keep her kids’ lives as steady as possible. And just when things seemed bleak, people showed up. Her children adopted a “Nene” and an “Uncle Tree Jay,” who’ve embraced their roles by bringing joy to three little ones who have nothing but love to give.

I don’t know what I did in life to end up in Kinston, but I’m so glad I did it. Grateful doesn’t even begin to cover what I feel for this community. In the past, I couldn’t look to the future because the present drained every bit of energy I had. For me, hope wasn’t a dream or an aspiration—it was a joke.

But here I am now, proudly cheering for K-Town, because Kinston gave me something I didn’t even know I was missing—hope. As we step into this holiday season, I encourage you to pause, take a deep breath, and truly see the world around you with fresh eyes. Open your heart to the people, places, and moments that make up your community. Embrace it fully, as it might surprise you—just like Kinston has surprised me.