I’m finally here! If you’ve been following along, you know I was just here in October for a girls’ trip, but I’ve been dreaming of coming back with the love of my life. I honestly cannot believe that this is Leroy and my first time in Paris together!
After what feels like a lifetime of extra weeks on call, working on curriculum, presenting at national meetings, and endless papers, this trip was the light at the end of the tunnel. I’ve planned this in my head a thousand times, and now we are actually living it. It’s a beautiful reminder: it is never too late to see Paris together.

The “Delta Drama” (Or: How I Almost Stayed in New Jersey)
It wouldn’t be a trip of mine without a little chaos, right? Hard to believe I almost didn’t get here at all.
Last Saturday, I realized I hadn’t been checking my Delta app closely enough. My Friday 5:05 PM flight had been moved to Thursday at 5:05 PM! I spent Monday frantically rearranging my schedule so I could work from home Thursday morning.
I thought I was in the clear until 5:00 AM Thursday. I got up for my workout, checked the app, and—you guessed it—canceled. After a frantic call to Delta, I found out Air France rescheduled the flight to 4:30 PM. Then came the real kicker: the new ticket was leaving from JFK, not Newark!
I had to scramble to tell Roy to get dressed and ready, notify the car service, and pray to the traffic gods. Luckily, our driver was someone I had driven with before, and he got us from Summit to JFK in record time.

Bonjour, Paris!
Once we hit the airport, everything smoothed out. We landed at 6:00 AM Friday morning and headed straight to our hotel. We’re staying at a gorgeous boutique hotel tucked away near the Champs-Élysées and the Arc de Triomphe.
There was no early check-in (the traveler’s struggle!), but the hotel gave us breakfast and we walked the city streets until the room was ready. Now, I might have been a little over-ambitious—forgetting how tired I’d be, I booked a tour of the Musée d’Orsay. We walked there, but by the end, we were wiped!
We grabbed an Uber back, took a much-needed nap, and ended the night perfectly at a spot called Lulu’s.

Pro Tip: If you want a place that feels like home, go to Lulu’s. It was born from a desire to serve 100% homemade, generous food in a warm, lively setting. It’s a modern take on the traditional brasserie—no fuss, no “gastronomic dictates,” just heart and a smile. They truly welcome you like family.

Day 1 is officially in the books, and after that meal and all that travel drama, we are sleeping well tonight. Stay tuned for more!
Day 2 plans have been made

As the clock strikes midnight and we usher in 2026, I find myself exhaling a long-held breath. If I’m being honest, I have been waiting for this year to end. 2025 was a marathon—a year that felt endless, marked by the highest of highs and some deeply felt disappointments.
But if there is one lesson I am taking from the last twelve months, it is this: we must be brave, and we must be bold.
The Professional Rollercoaster
The year began with so much anticipation regarding the HHS ARPA-H grant, a milestone we thought would define our professional trajectory. By March, we received the news: while we were selected, the funding had been dramatically cut. We passed on the grant.
By the time the STFM conference arrived in May, it became clear I wasn’t alone. My conversations there were filled with stories from colleagues who had also lost their grants. It was a sobering season for our field, yet it reminded me that in times of scarcity, we must be even bolder in our advocacy and braver in our pursuit of new paths.
Speaking Truth to Injustice
Looking toward 2026, I have to be honest: this new year feels formidable. We are facing a situation in which budget cuts, as well as the failure to renew vital aspects of the Affordable Care Act, will have a tremendous impact on many of our neighbors here in New Jersey.
For the many citizens who rely on the ACA to stay insured, these changes are not just policy shifts—they are life-altering threats to their health and security. In the face of this, I’ve decided that I cannot be silent. I have chosen to speak truth to injustice. Our expertise and our voices are needed now more than ever to protect the most vulnerable among us.
Celebration, Community, and Family
Even amidst the heavy news, 2025 reminded me why we fight: for the people and the communities we love.

• The New Jersey Medical Association celebrated its annual Scholarship Gala, and we were fortunate that the NK-MA President Elect, Dr. Roger Mitchell, a NJ native and graduate of NJ Medical School in Newark, now Rutgers Health Science. He is the president of Howard Hospital in Washington, D.C. We were also present as he was inaugurated as the 126th NMA President at the national conference in Chicago. It was a year of celebrating excellence in medicine.
• We also went to Salt Lake City, Utah, for the Society for Teachers of Family Medicine’s annual meeting. I was honored to be recognized for my work as the founding member of the Leadership through Scholarship Fellowship. I stepped down and passed the baton to my colleagues.
• The Giddens Family Reunion: The highlight of my summer was Birmingham. Getting the family together was a fantastic experience; we cherished every moment of connection and heritage.
• Giving Back: The Family Promise of Union County fundraiser in September was a beautiful reminder of the power of local organizations to change lives.
• Adventure: October brought the “City of Lights,” Paris, with my girlfriends—a necessary spark of joy.
• LeRoy’s Birthday: We capped off the year in Ocean City, celebrating LeRoy’s birthday on December 1st with his daughter. It was a peaceful, beautiful time before the holiday rush.
  Entering 2026 with Purpose
  2025 was full of “almosts” and “finallys.” It was a year of navigating cuts while celebrating milestones. While I am happy to turn the page, I am not just looking for “better” times; I am looking for “braver” times.
  Let us not be deterred by the disappointments of the past or the weight of the future. Instead, let’s step into this New Year with the courage to take risks and the strength to stand tall for what is right.
  Happy New Year. Let’s be brave, let’s be bold, and let’s make 2026 a year of action.
  Would you like me to help you format this into an email newsletter format for your colleagues and friends?

As a physician, I often look at “history” through the lens of a chart—a series of dates, diagnoses, and data points. But this weekend, I was reminded that the most vital histories aren’t written in ink; they are baked into recipes and shared across dining room tables.
I finally did it. I baked the walnut cake.
For Roy’s cousins, it wasn’t just a dessert; it was a bridge to memories. Their joy was palpable, and I was praised for the one thing that truly matters in a family recipe: I didn’t skimp on the walnuts.
There is restorative power in the act of reminiscing. As I watched Leroy’s face light up while he talked with his cousins about aunts, uncles, and grandparents, I felt that familiar universality of family. Though I was sitting in a beautiful dining room in Laurel, MD, I was mentally transported back to the dining rooms of my own youth in Birmingham, Alabama. The geography changes, but the experience of shared memory is a constant.
Familiar Rhythms in Baltimore
Following our time in Laurel, we returned to our familiar “home base,” the Delta Hotel at Cross Keys. Having stayed there for years—back when it was the Cross Keys Inn—there is a comfort in that continuity that I’ve come to appreciate more with time.
Our time in the city was a series of well-paced moments: a wonderful dinner at Cece’s Roland Park, a slow morning at Easy Like Sunday, and a quick stop at Pied Piper Kids to find a beautiful new outfit for the newest member of our family. This was all in the newly energized Village of Cross Keys.
New Life in an Old Factory
The final leg of our trip took us to York, PA, for brunch with family. Their apartment is in a truly remarkable space—a renovated coffin factory. There is something poetic about a building once dedicated to the end of life now serving as a vibrant, amazing home.
The brunch spread would make any family proud: brisket, ham, corn soufflé, collard greens, and yams. It was the kind of soul food that demands you slow down and be present. We spent the afternoon exactly as we should—lingering over our plates and soaking in the company. Of course, the real highlight was spoiling our three-month-old grand-niece.
Presence Over Pictures
It wasn’t until we were on our way home that we realized we hadn’t taken a single photograph. In an era where we feel compelled to document every moment, we had simply lived in them instead.
As a physician, I know that being “fully present” is one of the hardest things to achieve, yet it is where the most healing happens. We didn’t need digital proof of the weekend; we had the memories of the laughter, the stories, and the light in Leroy’s eyes. Some snapshots are better kept in the heart than on a phone. Getting back home early wa

Merry Christmas to all! While the traditional holiday cards didn’t make it out of our house this year, I want to extend a heartfelt thank you to everyone who sent one our way. Each card is a cherished memory and a reminder of the beautiful community we share.

I’ve been reflecting on how much the “rhythm” of my Christmas has changed. Since assuming a new position, it’s been years since I rounded in the hospital on Christmas Day. But for so much of my life—starting back in residency—the hospital was exactly where I was meant to be.

I’ll never forget my first Christmas on call as an intern. The nurses told me it was the busiest month they’d ever had, but it was one of the most enjoyable. I couldn’t go home, so I spent Christmas on call. There is a unique, profound atmosphere when you share Christmas with people at such a vulnerable time in their lives. You often have to share diagnoses that are upsetting not only to the patients but to their families.

It was in those quiet rooms that I learned my most important lesson as a physician: to treat my patients exactly as I would want my own family members to be treated. Sometimes the best medicine is sitting at the bedside, holding a hand, and in some instances, praying with them.

As I moved into private practice, the goal was always the “Christmas Sprint.” I would round as early as possible, heart set on getting home in time for Christmas breakfast—waffles or pancakes and sausage with my husband and children. Watching the kids open presents, often with my mother-in-law nearby, remains a highlight of my life.

Eventually, our move to Chattanooga opened the door for us to return to Birmingham for the holidays. Those years were a feast of reminiscence. I can still taste the “post-dinner” tradition: piled in the car, driving to my aunts’ homes for a rotating buffet of sweets—sweet potato pie, sour cream poundcake, lemon cake, and my mother’s signature coconut cake.

I realize now that my heart for service started long before medical school. I watched my stepfather and my mother ensure our elderly church members had a seat at our table. For those who couldn’t make it out, we turned our kitchen into a production line, preparing and delivering meals to their front doors. It would hold up our dinner, but we did it for years.

This year, Christmas is a little quieter. I am learning to enjoy the stillness—the time to stay home with family and make those long, winding phone calls to my sisters, my friends, and especially my mother. I am making plans to recreate a tradition. We are going to Baltimore on Saturday. I am making a Black Walnut layer cake for my husband’s cousins. I have not baked in years, but I have a great recipe and all the ingredients. I am up for the challenge.

In these turbulent times, taking a moment to reflect isn’t just a luxury; it’s a necessity. It’s a time to remember that whether we are holding a hand in a hospital bed or sharing a slice of cake in a crowded kitchen, the love we give is the only thing that truly lasts.

“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” — John 1:14

Happy Holidays!

What a beautiful weekend. We drove down to Baltimore early Saturday morning, and everything aligned—the weather was perfect, traffic was light, and we made it in record time. After picking up our two older children, we headed straight to the Harbor to celebrate Roy’s cousin Joan’s 70th birthday with a cruise. Two hours on the water, surrounded by family, laughter, and love. It felt good to gather—not for a funeral, but for joy. We always say we’ll do it again, and this time, I hope we mean it.

After the cruise, I got a little rest back at the hotel, then spent the evening with our daughter at a great restaurant. It’s always special to see her, but this time we were celebrating her new position. Watching her step into her next chapter—it’s a proud moment, and a reminder of how far she’s come.

Sunday morning began with breakfast and a visit to the Baltimore Museum of Art. I was deeply moved by the work of Amy Sherald. Her portraits are striking—figures rendered in grayscale skin tones, set against vivid, dreamlike backdrops. She invites us to see Black identity through a lens of dignity, imagination, and complexity. Her portrait of Michelle Obama stopped me in my tracks: poised, powerful, and full of grace. Breanna Taylor’s portrait was equally moving—a quiet, haunting reminder of a life taken too soon, yet honored with reverence. And of course, I brought a copy of the book. Something is grounding about holding the book in your hands while standing in front of the art itself.

We also explored the Cone Sisters’ collection, a treasure trove of Matisse, Picasso, and other modern masters. Their legacy as early-20th-century collectors and patrons of the arts continues to shape the museum’s identity today. We also explored the Africa and Asia Collections.

The drive home was just as beautiful. I found myself reflecting on the layers of this time in America—our history, our present, and the spaces we create to celebrate life in all its fullness. Weekends like this remind me of what matters: family, art, legacy, and the joy of being together.

Once again, I paired the 21-Day Meditation Experience: Hope in Uncertain Times with Deepak Chopra and Oprah to create a reflective journal. I used Gemini AI to pair the daily spiritual insights with corresponding scripture. This practice became a calming force as I navigated my trip to Paris. I truly lived in the world I had envisioned: a world where the kindness of strangers was amazing as I navigated a country and did not speak the language. I was glad to have my friends who knew the city well.

I realized that my spiritual growth had anchored me so profoundly that my inner state was immune to external chaos. These are the core tenets that became my guiding light:

1. The Core of My Being is Trust and Awareness

The foundation of my entire experience was a deep-seated inner commitment. I realized the only belief necessary is the one that expresses itself as self-awareness. This inner security led to my declaration: I trust in my core self at every moment. This unshakeable belief allows me to experience life from a place of radical security.

• Scriptural Reflection: Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken. (Psalm 62:6 NIV)

2. Hope is the Engine of Transformation

I learned that hope is not passive; it is an active force. Hope is the engine of consciousness that leads to enlightenment. It is what impels awareness to witness its true potential. This awareness allows me to say, “In every moment of hope I free myself.” I know that hope tells me anything can be transformed.

• Scriptural Reflection: Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. (2 Corinthians 3:17 NIV)

3. The Power of Unconditional Compassion

My experience in Paris, meeting strangers with an open heart, solidified my understanding of universal connection. Unconditional compassion is a shared inheritance. This is possible because I see the hopeful inner child in everyone. I meet any situation with loving kindness.

• Scriptural Reflection: Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. (Colossians 3:12 NIV)

4. Hope is a Conscious, Present-Moment Action

Hope does not live in the future; it is activated in the now. My mantra became: I find hope in the darkest days and focus on brightness. I do not judge the universe. I know that my future unfolds with hope and joy because I bring hope into the present moment.

• Scriptural Reflection: And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28 NIV)

5. Service and Forgiveness as Unity

My sense of purpose became clear: The world needs beacons of hope everywhere. To truly serve, to be a beacon of hope you cannot have an agenda. When you help with hope they will help you—that is connection. Forgiveness is giving up the hope that the past could not be any different.

• Scriptural Reflection: Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing. (1 Thessalonians 5:11 NIV)

Conclusion

My hope is grounded in a deeper reality—a fellowship. My action is simple: I offer hope from the simplicity of my heart. Listen to the signals, be intentional, for every action there is an equal positive and negative reaction. To make this hope real and viral, I must make people matter.

We are dealt what feels like an insurmountable challenge. History shows that it cycles, but those who keep hope alive know that there is strength in love, compassion, and unity.

We set our intention and activate hope; it connects us to the source of all creation.

References

• Chopra, D. (2013). Digital Dharma: Living a Spiritual Life in a Material World. Harmony.

• Chopra, D. (n.d.). 21-Day Meditation Experience: Hope in Uncertain Times. Retrieved from https://www.deepakchopra.com

• Google. (2025). Gemini [Large language model]. Retrieved September 7, 2025, from https://gemini.google.com

• All biblical verses cited are from the New International Version (NIV).