Goodbye 2025, Hello 2026!

My view this morning, Dec 31, 2025.

It’s the very last day of 2025… and what a year it has been for our family.

It feels like just yesterday we were ringing in the first day of 2025 thinking, “We better get our butts in gear,  we have five months to sell our house and buy a boat.”

There were days I truly didn’t believe it would all come together. But somehow, along the way, everything did.

We survived a last-minute basement flood just to get our house listed on time, and then the right buyer landed in our lap. We scoured the internet endlessly, wondering if we would ever find our boat… and somehow, we did. We purged, and purged, and then purged some more. We said goodbye to our loved ones…..and then our airline went on strike.

Stephen's view Dec 31,2025; water pump replacement

We struggled. We cried. We laughed at the absolute craziness of our lives. And eventually… we made it to the Caribbean.(And then we struggled, cried, and laughed some more.)

Recently, we returned to Canada for Christmas, and many people were still in awe that we had actually pulled this off. They remembered us saying 5 years ago, “We’re going to sell everything and live on a sailboat,” and probably thinking, “Okay… let’s see how that goes.”

Honestly? If someone had said that to me, I probably would’ve thought the same thing.

Because it was a lot of work. It was hard saying “see you later” to people who made our life what it was. It was hard letting go of comfort, convenience, and familiarity. And this life, this boat life, it’s hard work too. It’s not all beaches and sunsets. It’s a constant battle with the elements, a boat that humbles you daily, small spaces, and big emotions.

Before heading back to Canada, we talked about what we were excited for: fast food, junk food (okay… lots of food talk), friends and family, conveniences, escaping the heat. So much to look forward to.

But when we finally landed in Toronto and stepped back into “normal life,” I realized something surprising……it wasn’t what I needed.

What I did need was the reminder that normalcy is only a plane ride away.

It was an odd feeling being back on land, blending in as a “normal” person, with no one knowing that just days earlier we were surviving on solar power, making water, washing clothes in a bucket, and wondering what would break next. One minute we’re calculating whether we can shower… the next we’re standing in line at Starbucks.

I picked up a few shifts at 911 and very quickly realized I had made the right decision — that chapter of work is no longer for me. I met up with friends and family, hugged my big kids, my mom, my in-laws, and tried desperately to lock those moments into memory for later.

Then I got pneumonia… because of course I did, it was -28°C and I work in a call center. I recovered just in time for Christmas, had the most wonderful time with family… and then, suddenly, we were heading back to Grenada.

Walking onto the boat felt incredible. I felt like I was home.

I needed that feeling. I needed to go back and realize that everything in Canada is still there — nothing has changed — but I have. And I will keep changing. Our kids will keep changing. And everything we’ve given up is worth it.

(Ask me again when we run out of the chocolate stash I brought back… I’ll keep you posted.)

We all feel renewed now!!! Energized, excited, and we’re finally ready to leave Grenada. We’ll ring in the new year and then set sail north to explore the Caribbean, reconnect with friends, and see what this next chapter has in store for us.

Here’s to 2026 !!! Adventure, growth, and choosing the life that feels like home (for now).