This month brings to a close my serialized memoir, Still Life with Sierra. Sharing my story in Tidewater Women has been very rewarding, yet it saddens me to see the last chapter appear in this issue. I told someone recently that, although the memoir ends in 1998, Sierra’s story will never end. My journey to find meaning in her life and her death will continue until it’s time for me to see for myself what’s on “the other side.”

That’s not meant to be depressing. I truly believe that with every new day comes the chance to learn a lesson that helps us grow. I hope sharing Still Life with Sierra has helped some of you discover new truths that will make your life more meaningful and fulfilling. I am planning on publishing the memoir and will let you know when it’s available in case you’d like to purchase a copy for yourself or for a friend who might benefit from reading my humble tale of loss and hope.

This month’s issue of Tidewater Women features lots of ways to grow, to learn, and to seek the path you’re meant to follow.  I don’t know about you, but reading the articles in TW every month never fails to inspire me. Even though our days can be filled with the same-old mundane events, each of us has the capacity to rise above the seemingly inconsequential elements of our existence to find new awareness, hopes, and dreams.

It’s hard some days. I am facing a new set of challenges at home with my middle son, Jasper. At age 20, he seems stuck, like so many of his generation, unsure of where to go and what to do. He lives in the moment, without concern for the future. I think back to when I was his age, nearly finished with college, ready to build a life for myself, and I wonder how he could be so lackadaisical about things. I’ve heard that, as our life spans have increased, adolescence has lengthened commensurately.  That means in previous generations we were ready for adulthood by age 20. It seems the newer generations are still in the thick of their teen-aged turmoil well into their 20s. Then again, maybe it’s just an excuse for goofing off as long as possible before stepping foot into the real world.

I also often wonder whether 9/11 had a subconscious effect on our children’s generation. It was such a scary moment in our nation’s history. Those of us who were adults when it happened had the benefit of a larger context in which to place the event—even though it rocked our world. But imagine if you were six, or 12, or 16, and you saw this terrible example of man’s inhumanity to man and the loss of human lives in such a graphic way. What an impression it must have made on their formative minds and emotions. That September day affected us all profoundly, but I think children and teens were likely affected even more. Terrorism is an ugly beast that didn’t exist when I was growing up. Its presence on the planet releases negative energy and makes it even harder to recognize the inherent goodness within us all.

But maybe that’s just another excuse. Our parents and grandparents lived through Pearl Harbor, the Holocaust, and the atomic bombs of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Yet they managed to create productive lives in spite of these horrific events—just as we all continue to put our best foot forward even though we know there’s a fragile line between life and death and loss and hope.

Which brings me back to Sierra and the lessons she taught me. The most important one is a cliché, I know, but it’s really true: make each day count. Be the best you can be and love those around you. If we all try a little harder to shine brightly in this cloudy world, we can fight the ugly beast.

Peggy Sijswerda is editor & publisher of Tidewater Women.