Tree of Life – Family

Where the roots hold steady and the next generation grows.

It’s SHOWTIME

It's SHOWTIME

I’ve always been sentimental about generational heritage. Traditions, legacy, values – the shared history that ties me to my cousins and the women who came before me. I’m first generation American on my mom’s side, and a dual citizen of the U.S. and Canada. My mom is 100% Scottish, and I was raised with all the Scottish customs, giving me a deep pride in our origin stories.

I cherish the heirlooms I’ve inherited – the antique silver heart locket from my great-great grandmother Elizabeth, my mom’s namesake. The silver cuff bracelet engraved with my grandmother’s initial. Wearing their jewelry, imagining their lives, their choices, their strength – it empowers me.

All day long, I work in my home office at the desk my dad used in his law practice. Our legal careers couldn’t be more different – his criminal, mine corporate – yet here I am, sitting where he once sat. He spent his days representing clients accused of heinous crimes; I spend mine on Teams calls discussing global human rights regulations and compliance programs.
At night, I write at another one of his desks that was in his home office – the one that once belonged to a Chinese lawyer and was crafted in 1919 Peking. It traveled around Cape Horn to reach America, a journey that must have taken months. I often wonder what stories that desk could tell.

With all that rich heritage – the tangible and the mystic – it’s funny what stands out most when I think about the generational strength I carry. It comes from my Grandpa, Ian McGregor.

He was a character. I like to think I inherited his mix of academic and creative brain. He graduated from McGill University, one of Canada’s most elite institutions. He was also a fabulous musician, especially on piano, and he could tap dance. He dressed sharply, with monogrammed cuffs and beautiful cufflinks. He was a huge presence, especially to me.

And the strength he gave me?
A simple exercise in bravery.

When I was very young – so young I don’t even remember learning it – he taught me what to do when I’m walking into a situation that scares me, intimidates me, or makes me doubt myself.

Stop.
Take a huge breath in.
Straighten my shoulders.
Chest up.
And whisper:

“It’s SHOWTIME.”

Then bust through the door like I belong there.

Nobody second guesses a person who walks in with that kind of confidence.

My Grandpa died unexpectedly when I was nineteen, long before I could tell him how impactful that lesson has been. But I’ve used it countless times – job interviews, public speaking, Jack’s adoption hearing, any moment with consequences or high stakes where I need a pair of brass balls in my pocket.

Every time, I pause.
I breathe.
I stand tall.
I whisper:

“It’s SHOWTIME.”

And I walk in.
And it’s never let me down.

While I’m shaped by heirlooms, stories, and the desks I work & write at, sometimes it’s the smallest inheritance that makes the biggest impact.

Feel free to share your stories in the comments. I’d love to hear them.

Scottie Dog Giggles

It’s ridiculous enough that Angus insists on sitting on my lap while we are at the park. It’s next level that he laughs while doing it.

Angus is the 3 year old Scottie Dog who I bought for my Mom, who lives with me and is also 100% Scottish. He’s named after my Grandpa’s Grandpa, who was notorious throughout the Highlands of Scotland for being a bugger. His collar is the Clan McGregor plaid, which was my Mom’s maiden name. Pretty thoughtful gift, huh? A nice generational story, right?

It’s amazing how you can bring a little animal into a home with everything planned out, and they say – “um, no.” Baby Angus arrived and immediately assessed the house. He’d go to Grammy for unconditional love & affection, he’d stay away from the teenage boy because he is often grumpy, because – teenager – and me? I’d do EVERTYTHING else:

Feed
Walk
Bath
Vet appts
Trips to the groomer

And the ever present, let dog in – let dog out. I work from home so I take Angus to doggy daycare twice a week for 1/2 days so that I can actually get some work done. So on top of his breed traits of being stubborn & pushy, we now have ‘day care kid’ personality – part of the pack. I live in fear of the neighborhood Ring cameras, daily they see Angus & I out for our afternoon tussle. We don’t go for walks, we go for public power struggles. He LOVES taking me on, he laughs & laughs.

I am known wide & far as Angus’s Mom, sigh. Yes, I now ‘own it’. I am The Mom of the house, all creatures great & small.

Until My Heart Stops Beating

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I’m still thinking about the profound, deeply heartfelt conversation I had with my 11‑year‑old niece this past weekend. She amazes me in ways I don’t always have words for. We sat together and talked about the things most adults avoid — mental health, family dynamics, insecurities, letting go, hopes, dreams. It was raw and honest, the kind of conversation that shifts something inside you.

Somewhere in the middle of it, I realized our relationship is changing.

Not fading — evolving.

Not drifting — deepening.

She’s growing into herself, and I’m growing into the version of me she needs now.

At one point, I looked at her and said softly, “I am going to love you until my heart stops beating.”

She paused, eyes wide and vulnerable in that way only kids can be, and whispered, “And even more after that?”

I nodded. “I will find a way.”

Her serious, exquisitely beautiful face broke into the smallest smirk, and we locked eyes. She nodded back — not questioning, not hoping, but knowing. She trusted me. She believed me. She 100% knows that I will find a way. That I will never leave her.

Moments like this are the roots of our family tree — the quiet, powerful ones that shape who we become. The ones that remind me that love isn’t just something we give; it’s something we build, generation by generation.