Edit 39: Ten Things—April

A gratitude list for a full, fast, beautiful season.

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April has been a whirlwind. A beautiful, exhausting, electric, deeply good whirlwind. Concerts and ceremonies, quiet patios and loud stadiums, busy mornings and very full evenings. And just when you think the month has given everything it has, it saves a few more for the final week—Bruno Mars with friends, a bittersweet sayonara, a transition meeting at the JLC, and a new partner party at the utterly fabulous Ten Tenths Motor Club. April, you have truly outdone yourself, but before May sweeps in and takes over, here are ten things I don't want to forget.

01

Spring Break, exactly when we needed it.

Our senior was deep in senioritis. I was burnt out from back-to-back gatherings and events. Shannon had been traveling constantly for work. And then Spring Break arrived with absolutely nothing on the calendar except time at home together. No plans. No obligations. Just the four of us (because Madeline was also present) moving through our days at a slower pace, with the kind of unplanned time that feels like a luxury these days. It was exactly what we needed.

02

Celebrations, big and small.

Spring Break brought a full heart. Madeline turned 26—and every year she adds another layer to the person she's becoming, which is someone I genuinely love spending time with. Jackson spent hours painting a decorative mask for a masquerade birthday celebration, patient and creative and entirely in his element. And somewhere in the middle of it all, we went to the movies together as a family—the whole ordinary, perfect thing of it. Some weeks just stack up beautifully.

03

Jack's camping trip—with a plot twist.

Jack and his friends headed to the mountains for a camping trip, backpacks loaded, food packed, tents and air mattresses compressed and ready for adventure. What they didn't plan on was North Carolina's burn ban—no fires, no cooking, no staying. Sure, they could have gone to a store and purchased a portable stove, but they'd built up their camping trip to be a certain way. So they did what any resourceful group of teenagers would do: drove back to Charlotte, set up in a friend's backyard, had a more contained cookout, and spent the night in the basement. It was not the trip they planned—but they all had a great time, and I love that they just rolled with it.You can count on them making another attempt before they leave for college!

04

Shannon's long weekend in L.A.

As hard as he works, I love that Shannon was able to enjoy a long weekend back in L.A. with friends. Some were from work, some from our time in Tokyo, some were from our years living in L.A.. I couldn't help but be happy because when he returned home he came back genuinely restored. Watching your person get that kind of time, with people who know him across different chapters of his life, is its own kind of gift. And as almost empty nesters, I'll speak for both of us when I say that getting to hug a few babies while he was there filled a little piece of the heart that's quietly learning to adjust. I'm so glad he went.

05

Free museum days at The Bechtler—and a fascinating evening with Chakaia Booker.

One of the things I love most about Charlotte is that if you pay attention, the city keeps offering you something extraordinary. This month, The Bechtler uptown has been doing exactly that with free programming that I've been making the most of—sometimes with friends, sometimes on my own.

The highlight was attending the Chakaia Booker symposium alongside a friend who was a Tokyo neighbor and is now a Charlotte one. If you don't know Chakaia Booker, she is an internationally renowned sculptor who for more than four decades has transformed discarded rubber tires—sliced, twisted, and woven—into monumental abstract works that speak to resilience, labor, sustainability, and the beauty hidden in things we discard. Her exhibition at The Bechtler, Weighted Balance, is on view through June 1st.

That evening, she spoke about her various works, her mediums, and her process. During the Q&A she was—let's say—refreshingly candid. A touch cynical, perhaps, but I suppose that's the life of an artist who has spent four decades doing things her own way. Afterwards, we went upstairs to view her works in person. Standing in front of them is a completely different experience than any photograph can prepare you for. Go. Truly—go.

06

The Mint Museum Auxiliary Spring Symposium.

The Mint Museum Auxiliary's Spring Symposium at Charlotte Country Club was a beautifully elegant afternoon. We started with a silent auction, then settled in for Nate Berkus, who was there to talk about his new book, Foundations. What resonated most was hearing my own long-held feelings about interior design said out loud: that decorating your home should be gradual and intentional, and that trends are specifically designed to make you feel bad about your choices. He said to tune out the people who saturate social media telling you what you should like and look for what you love. Currate, currate, currate. What a breath of fresh air it was to hear someone say this out loud. Thank you! Permission granted to ignore all of them. The luncheon that followed gave us time to get to know the guests around us—exactly the kind of afternoon I love. I left feeling validated, inspired, and very glad I went.

07

Full circle, and then some.

I got off a plane from Tampa—still buzzing from BTS (I'll get to that later on the list!)—and went straight into my last recruitment event as Recruitment Chair for Junior League Charlotte. Because who has time to stop living?

Junior League isn't my first nonprofit, but it has been a while since I've felt this way about one. Over the past two years, my life has become more fulfilling in ways that exist outside of being a wife, a mother, and a daughter. This has been something I've been doing entirely for me, and it has helped me grow in ways I wasn't anticipating.

Before the event began, I sat quietly on the patio in the late afternoon light. The space was set up beautifully. Everything was still. And I just sat there, looking at everything we'd built, waiting for all these amazing women who want to join us next year to walk through the door.

It was humbling and satisfying in the same breath. And now, as I transition into Vice Chair of Membership, I carry all of that with me—the women I've worked alongside, the ones I get to keep working with, and all the new ones still to come. I love learning new things. I love the challenge of making a role uniquely mine. And I love this organization for giving me the space to do both.

08

An evening with Nick Mele.

An evening with Nick Mele at The Grove was everything I didn't know I needed. Nick is a contemporary photographer being lauded as the modern day Slim Aarons—but instead of Palm Springs, his lens lives in Palm Beach. There's always a touch of humor to his work: extravagant backdrops with something wholly unexpected tucked in, just waiting for you to catch the wink. As a photographer myself, being surrounded by that much creativity in one room was enthralling. He was charming and generous with his time, answering questions and making everyone feel like they were part of the conversation. And then there was the dress code—guests were encouraged to come as if they'd just stepped off a lush Palm Beach resort property. I wore a beautiful floral dress, and everywhere I looked, men and women alike were in bold, colorful patterns that made the whole evening feel like we'd walked right into one of his photographs. Which, if you ask me, was the whole point.

09

Building something that's entirely mine.

I am building my photography website—and it is equal parts exhilarating and humbling. I learn best by doing, and I'm a pretty good teacher to myself, but the learning curve has been real. Painstaking doesn't begin to cover it. P-A-I-N-S-T-A-K-I-N-G. Every font, every color, every page layout hard won and deeply personal. Understanding how platforms work, how to design across different pages, how to wrangle it all into something that feels like me—it has required patience I didn't know I had. Could I pay someone to do it? Yes, of course. But in the end it would be someone else's product—and even more frustrating when (because there undoubtedly will be a 'when') I'd need something changed or fixed and have to wait on their time and pay them for the privilege. No thank you. I can do this all by myself. And every time something clicks into place, that feels like exactly the right decision.

10

BTS in Tampa—a weekend that almost didn't happen.

This weekend almost didn't. Our senior came down with a virus right before his prom, and for a moment, one of us wasn't sure we'd make it to Tampa at all. But he recovered, made his prom with his friends, and Saturday morning we flew south with Madeline—who had secured us fourth row, center stage seats at Raymond James Stadium. The Ticketmaster never misses.

The walk from the hotel was a blessing we didn't anticipate—everyone else was trapped in parking nightmares while we arrived at six-thirty, only to face the chaos of entrance lines that didn't seem to know how to handle the volume. It was swug (sweltery and muggy, for those keeping score), and we were thirsty, but we made it inside with minutes to spare.

And then BTS took the stage.

I have never experienced energy so electric, so powerful, so emotional and energizing all at once. The rotating stage meant everyone got a clear view of each member—and you can feel how much they love each other, how cohesive they are, how incredible they are as performers. Fireworks. Dancers. Each member with their own resonance and style, moving through different corners of the stage so the whole stadium could witness their artistry.

They performed "Arirang"—and if you don't know the history of that folk song, the generations it speaks to, the impact of military occupation on Korean culture—I encourage you to look it up. BTS took that legacy and transformed it into something that honors it while being entirely, unmistakably theirs. It brought tears to my eyes.

But what surprised me most was "Into the Sun." The live version, with the members singing in their beautifully layered harmonies, was... magic. Absolute, adoration-filled magic. There's no other way to put it. It moved me in ways I didn't expect, and I'm still processing it.

They performed with such thoughtfulness and such joy. You could feel how much they love what they do, how much they love ARMY (what their fans are called), how much they love each other. And in a weekend that started with uncertainty and chaos, that feeling—that pure, euphoric, joyful energy—was exactly what we all needed.

Thank you, BTS. And thank you, Madeline, for always getting us to the best seats in the house.

As this month comes to a close, what things are you grateful for?