Breaking Down the "Everything Is Possible" Message
You guys know the vibe. It’s been a week. A big, heavy, messy, beautiful, slightly catastrophic week at Graze.
I’ve been sitting with this message lately: "Everything is possible." And usually, when people say that, I kind of want to roll my eyes into the back of my head because it sounds like one of those "Live, Laugh, Love" signs you find in the clearance aisle at Home Goods. But when you really break it down and really strip away the glitter, it’s actually a bit more haunting (in a good way?) and a lot more real.
The Threshold and the "Thin Places"
Today marks the one year anniversary of my dad passing. I can’t even believe I’m typing that. One year. They call it the "year of firsts", the first birthday without them, the first Christmas, the first random Tuesday where you realize you can’t just call and ask how to fix a leaky faucet. Crossing this one year mark feels like ending a very specific, raw, and super exhausting chapter.
The "Everything is Possible" message isn't about everything being great. It’s about the fact that grief doesn’t fit into these neat little Tupperware containers we try to shove it into. It’s not "good" or "bad." Today isn't a bad day just because I’m sad, and it isn't a good day just because I managed to put on a real outfit and go to the shop. It’s a threshold moment.
So let’s talk about thin places. It’s like the veil between who you were and who you’re becoming gets super translucent. All the distractions of everyday life, the emails, the laundry, the "did I remember to buy more crackers for everyone’s order?", they kind of fall away. You’re left with your authentic self. And while that’s scary as hell, it’s also where the magic happens.
My heart is very much in the clouds right now, total Pisces energy, but my feet have to stay on the ground. It’s that drive to keep moving even when you’re walking through emotional molasses. The way forward isn't some giant leap off a cliff; it’s just a small, quiet realization about how I want to live. It’s about honoring what my dad taught me while finally letting things settle back down. Year two is about clarity. Loss strips away the fluff and leaves only the stuff that actually matters.
And speaking of things that matter... can we talk about my parents? April 7th would have been their 52nd anniversary. 52 years! I’m out here struggling to keep a sourdough starter alive for more than a week, and they did sooo many years of life together. Tuesdays are usually my days spent with my mom, so we’re going to just be together. No big plans, just enjoying the day. Because if this year has taught me anything, it’s that the "everything" in "everything is possible" includes the simple possibility of just having a nice day doing nothing. Hopefully a cocktail is invited to the conversation.
The Nostalgia Menu (and the Meatball Trauma)
Since I was feeling all reflective and back in the day, I decided to lean into that for the shop menu this week. We did a full-blown nostalgia meal and it was a trip.
We had:
Homemade Spaghettios: (Yes, with the little rings and the sauce that tastes like childhood but, you know, actually made of real food).
Maple Glazed Apple & Brie Chicken. Because nothing says comfort like that sweet and savory combo.
Chicken Divan with Apricot Quinoa: A total throwback to those 80s/90s casseroles but leveled up for 2026.
Bacon, Egg & Cheese Croissant Sammy: The ultimate "I’m an adult but I want a hug" breakfast.
Oatmeal Cream Pie Overnight Oats: This one is a sleeper hit. Seriously.
But let me tell you something about those Spaghettios... specifically the meatballs. I spent Friday and Saturday at the shop prepping, and I think I spent approximately 4,000 hours hand rolling tiny meatballs. I love you guys. I really do. But those meatballs were a one time only labor of love. If you got them this week, consider yourself the owner of a limited edition Graze relic.
The "Dog Ate My Taxes" Situation (I Wish I Was Joking)
Okay, so if the emotional weight of the one year anniversary wasn't enough, life decided to throw a little slapstick comedy into the mix.
I finally, FINALLY, finished my taxes on Wednesday morning. I was so proud of myself. I was organized! I was on top of it! I had the front page all hand written out (don't ask me why I still do things by hand sometimes, my brain just processes it better that way). I was going to send them in Friday morning but I also ended up having to work at the shop. Turns out my mom’s dogs were sick of me staying at her house for 2 weeks while she was away that Brie decided to eat them.
I just stood there. No thoughts, head empty. Just me and a dog who apparently thinks the IRS is delicious. So, yeah. Shit. Absolute shambles. I had to redo the whole thing tonight after meal prepping for an eternity. It’s fine. I’m fine. We’re all fine. It’s just one of those moments where you have to laugh because otherwise, you’ll just walk into the ocean.
I also forgot about Wednesday. Can’t forget Wednesday. Expensive Wednesday. My accidental little day off turned into a live-action lesson in why you should never, ever just assume something is reasonably priced. I took George and his cutie lady friend to the trampoline park, which already felt like I was personally underwriting a tiny Cirque du Soleil training program, but fine, whatever, we were making memories. Then I swung through for lunch and somehow accidentally bought the $14 "K-pop demon hunter" meals instead of regular Happy Meals, because apparently I blacked out and lost the ability to read a menu like a functioning adult. Fourteen dollars. Each. For a kid meal. I was sitting there like, yep, cool, awesome, love this for me, let's all just pretend that didn't feel like getting mugged by a drive-thru.
And because the day was clearly committed to the bit, we ended up at the Paper Store, where the cuties wanted to "adopt" bunnies. Innocent! Sweet! Adorable! Except these were not cute little impulse-bin bunnies. These were apparently luxury-level rabbits in disguise, because they turned out to be $57 each. FIFTY-SEVEN DOLLARS. EACH. For stuffed bunnies. By the time I realized what was happening, I was already emotionally and financially too deep, just nodding along while internally levitating out of my body in the Easter section. Damn you, Jellycats.
So yes, the moral of Expensive Wednesday is very clear: always check the prices! Always! Because if I don’t, apparently one innocent outing turns into trampoline fees, designer bunny adoptions, and accidentally choosing the bougie demon-hunter meal package like I’ve never seen a cash register before in my life.
Moving Into Year Two
As I head into this week, I’m trying to keep that "everything is possible" mantra in the back of my mind: not as a cheesy motivational quote, but as a reminder that I can handle the heavy stuff, the nostalgic stuff, and the "dog eating my taxes" stuff all at once.
Loss has a funny way of making you realize that you’re much stronger than you thought, and also much more tired than you realized. It’s a weird paradox. I’m moving into this second year of "after" with a bit more clarity on my authentic life purpose. It turns out my purpose involves making really good food, taking care of my people, and occasionally losing my mind over paperwork.
Thank you guys for being on this journey with me. Whether you're here for the charcuterie tips, the meal prep, or just to watch the slow-motion train wreck of my personal life, I appreciate you. If you’re feeling like you’re in a "thin place" too, or if you’re just navigating your own version of "the dog ate my life," just know you aren't alone.
We’re going to get through it. We might be a little scattered, we might have meatball-induced hand cramps, and we might have to re-write our taxes, but we’re doing it.
I’m off to bed. I have a billion deliveries tomorrow morning and need to send off those taxes. Fingers crossed I don’t owe anything because I’m poor after that Wednesday shopping spree.
Sending you all the love! I hope everyone who celebrates Easter got to spend time with the ones you love. Jealous. Miss you dad. Today sucked.
XX,
Abby
Song of the day: Meg Myers-Desire (Hucci Remix)
Just a little 2014 trap hop era nostalgic throw-back. The original is really good too but I do love to bite into some textured bass. My husband bought me the new Bose headphones for my birthday and compared to my old ones these are ELITE and this song hits sooo good with the immersion option. K bye.
