NOURISH TOGETHER - WEEKLY NEWSLETTER - 6/12/25

Note from Jamie

I like to share things that light me up, fill me with joy, and make my life easier. Nothing is sponsored. These are just things that are helping me along my journey.

Trigger Warning: This post contains reflections on grief and end-of-life decisions.

My Sister, Jenny

This isn’t an easy note to write, but it’s one I feel called to share—with reverence, vulnerability, and love.

As some of you know, my sister Jenny has not been well for a long time. In November of last year, she shared her incredibly brave decision to stop her dialysis treatments in June 2025, knowing that this choice would mark the end of her journey in this lifetime.

These past eight months have been the most intentional of my life.

When I asked Jenny if there was anything she wanted to do—a bucket list, an adventure, anything at all—she simply said, “I’ve done everything I want to do. I just want to be with my people."

And so that’s exactly what we’ve done.

We sit on the couch. We reminisce. We order our favorite foods. We are completely ridiculous together—the kind of silly that makes our faces hurt and our stomachs sore from laughing. And yes, we cry too. But mostly, we laugh.

On Tuesdays, I visit her at my parents’ house, where she’s being cared for by our loving mom and dad. Mom makes us omelets. Dad tells "Dad Jokes." It’s simple and sacred.

We text each other every night before bed.
“Nighty-night, Sissy Poo. Love you.”

I am in awe of my sister’s clarity, courage, and grace. She has long been at peace with her decision, and, in the most Jenny way possible, she’s made sure all of us are at peace, too. She’s gifted us time—time to connect, to say everything that needs to be said, to feel everything that needs to be felt.

Though she’s physically and mentally exhausted, Jenny continues to pour into everyone she loves. She meets with friends and family to offer comfort, connection, and closure.

I’ve moved through many waves of grief during this time. Right now, my tears are tears of gratitude. I’m so grateful for the gift of Jenny. For every silly moment and every tender one. For her generosity of spirit and her boundless love.

As I’ve walked through this season, I’ve also learned some things about grief and how people show up—sometimes beautifully, sometimes unintentionally in ways that are hard.

If you’ve held space for me to talk about Jenny, thank you. If you’ve listened to me brag about how extraordinary she is, thank you. If you’ve sent love, prayers, or messages, thank you. Your generosity is felt deeply.

And while I know most questions and comments come from a place of love, I want to gently share that some have been difficult to receive—especially questions like, “Isn’t there something she can do?” or “Can’t she get a transplant?”

Jenny is ready. She’s endured immense suffering with astonishing grace. She is at peace. We are honoring her autonomy, her wishes, her knowing.

And I want to say this clearly:

Not everyone fears death.
Death is not failure.
It is not giving up.

Sometimes, death is the final, sacred chapter—the natural, intentional closing of a life fully lived. It’s not something to be feared, but something to be honored. For some, like Jenny, death is not a battle lost—it’s a conscious, courageous choice. It’s a release. A letting go. A return to peace.

For Jenny, this transition is not an end—it’s a movement into something freer, lighter, and more beautiful. She is ready. And because of her grace, we’re learning to be ready too.

So if you’d like to support me in this time, I ask for this:

💙Help me celebrate my sister.

💙Help me honor her bravery and her love.

💙Remind me that she is free.

💙If you're the praying type, please pray for a peaceful and swift transition for Jenny. Please pray for my family, for me, and for everyone who loves her.

I may or may not feel like writing in the coming weeks. I have already written & scheduled our Tuesday product emails (they're really good!), but there may be a pause in the Thursday newsletters, or maybe writing will help me process it all. Either way, I hope you’ll continue to support Nourish. My incredible team will pour their love and care into every order, every event, and every interaction, as they always do.

In a few days, we'll be celebrating Jenny with the most her kind of send-off—a giant pool party with all her favorite people. Jenny hasn’t been able to swim in a long time, and she LOVES to swim.

So we’re throwing her a joyful, splash-filled celebration of a life well-lived. We’re going to laugh. We’re going to love on her. We’re going to try our best to make it fun, because that’s what she wants.

I will love you forever, Sissy Poo.

Thank you for being the best sister a girl could ever dream of.

xoxo,

Jamie