"Take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise." John Lennon and Paul McCartney.
As your job search coach I provide the training, tools and encouragement that will allow you to reach your potential and take flight in your career.
Welcome, Caitlin’s Star is an interactive picture book offering comfort to children and families navigating loss. Explore the book, media features, and related resources below.
Last week, a wonderful friend and neighbor suddenly passed away. His loss was a quiet reminder of how swiftly life moves — how, in the blink of an eye, we travel from childhood to adolescence, from young adulthood to older adulthood.
As I thought about his family this morning, a few simple reflections came to mind.
• Live in the moment. Be fully present at the concert, the play, or the conversation. When you’re young, some things may feel silly or unimportant, but they’re not. These are the songs that stay tucked in your memory and resurface years later at holidays, sung word for word. These are the moments that quietly shape us.
• Really look at your family. If you’re lucky, they are showing up for you, creating memories, and doing their best to give you something meaningful to carry forward.
• Don’t feel the need to do things exactly the way everyone else does. If others paint their canvases one way, it’s okay to choose your own colors.
• Walk away from people who don’t treat you well. Don’t let anyone take up space in your mind or dim your light. There are plenty of people who will appreciate and celebrate who you are.
• Notice things. When you walk, look up. Take in your surroundings — not just for safety, but for beauty. We are given only so many walks in our lives, and each one holds something worth seeing.
As the holidays draw near and we look ahead to a new year, I find myself thinking about presence, gratitude, and the fleeting nature of time. May we notice more, hold our people a little closer, and allow ourselves to truly be in the moments that quietly become our memories.
I saw a friend today who shared that she had bought Caitlin's Star and loved it. She told me that Grandmother Pearl reminded her so much of her own grandmother.
I asked her what kind of “job” she thought her grandmother might have. She paused for a moment, then smiled and said she imagined her grandmother would be the one welcoming people. She also thought she would be the one offering gentle, heavenly advice.
I love hearing people talk about what their loved ones’ special jobs might be. Their eyes light up, and they smile as they remember the traits, habits, and kindness that made those people so special. It’s a beautiful reminder that love continues through the memories we carry.
I’ll share one of mine, too. This is my grandmother (Mom Mom) at Christmastime back when I was about six years old. She's here with my Pop Pop, mom, sister and me. When I think about her special job, I imagine her as a warm, loving caretaker — always making sure everyone felt safe, welcome, and loved. She's probably still giving the best hugs!
✨A conversation with an old friend brought back so many holiday memories — the music, the food, the people who filled our homes and our hearts. This reflection grew out of that conversation and out of Caitlin’s Star. My hope is that it brings a quiet moment of warmth and peace to your holiday season.
Did you know that the fear of public speaking sometimes ranks # 1 in the list of fears that people face. It surpasses fear of spiders, falling, fire, flying, heights and even death! It also has a name - Glossophobia and it affects up to 75% of people to some degree. The major reasons for the angst is fear of judgement, past experiences and social anxiety.
Recently in some book groups that I am in on social media, an author said that she was going to be making some presentations about her book. She said that she was petrified and she asked for some suggestions on what to do.
She got all kinds of responses and I agreed with many of them. Others though, not so much. I've attached my response to her.
"I'm
a former corporate trainer and my job was preparing and giving training sessions and presentations. My best
advice is to plan what you are going to say and practice, practice
practice. Find out how much time you will be given and create a small
presentation to fill that space. Have an intro - who you are, your
background and why you wrote the book. Tell a little about the book -
who it is for, read some portions of it, give examples of why those
parts hit you and why. Give a personal story or two, people like that
because they can relate. This is authenticity.
I like to walk around during a presentation but
with a book, it's good to stay put. Look at the people and don't forget
to smile. Once you know what you want to say, practice it in the car,
in the shower, while doing the dishes. Say it out loud and then time
yourself. You will be surprised at how good you are and how much better
you get with each presentation. I envy you and can't wait to hear how
you made out!"
Yesterday was a challenging
day. I was deep in the technical side of preparing my book for
hardcover—formats, conversions, error messages… the frustrating but necessary
part of authorship.
And
then an email arrived that immediately changed everything.
A
woman who recently purchased Caitlin’s Star asked me to
inscribe it for her sister, who lost her son six months ago. She later wrote:
“I just received your book and read
through the most touching tribute one can give to/for a loved one. It is
beautiful! Thank you so much.”
— C.V.
Later
that same day, more messages came in:
“I received your beautifully written
Caitlin’s Star yesterday. Loved it. The notes at the end are such a thoughtful
addition.”
“That was just beautiful—TRULY. I love
the whole concept of the grandma having a job and inviting Caitlin to
participate. It truly is a wonderful message!”
These
aren’t just book reviews.
They are reminders of why I wrote this story in the first place.
For
many families, grief is complex, especially for children. My work, whether
through writing, coaching, or teaching, has always centered around helping
people navigate change, loss, and new beginnings. Caitlin’s Star
is simply another expression of that mission.
Hearing
how this book brings comfort, connection, and healing is the kind of feedback
that keeps me going, even on the difficult days.
If
my work can help even one family feel less alone, then every format issue,
every technical hurdle, and every long night is worth it.
I learned something new
this week, and it reminded me why continuous learning matters at every
age, especially in today’s job market. Like
many older job seekers and career changers, I’ve heard the same
assumptions over the years: that older workers don’t want to learn new
technology, that they resist change, or that today’s AI tools are too
complicated for them. But here’s the truth: we are not only capable of learning — we are capable of creating. We have been adapting our entire lives. This
month, I taught myself how to use Canva, animation tools, AI-enhanced
design, and video editing to create the official book trailer for my new
children’s book, Caitlin’s Star. Here it is:https://lnkd.in/eK7H3PXt It wasn’t easy, but it was absolutely worth it. More
importantly, it reminded me that learning isn’t tied to age — it’s tied
to mindset. In a world of rapid technological change, the most valuable
skill any of us can cultivate is curiosity. To
every older job seeker: you are not behind, too old, or stuck. You are
experienced, capable, and resilient. You are NOT invisible! Those
qualities matter now more than ever. You can learn new tools. You can
embrace AI. You can navigate whatever comes next. If
I can teach myself how to create a video trailer using brand-new
technology, you can absolutely learn whatever your next step requires. I've been saying this for years -continuous learning is not just possible at any age, it is essential. For
job search questions or if you'd like to talk about my book, please let
me know. Now excuse me while I update my LinkedIn skillset. with technical skills - something I never thought I'd do!
As we enter the holiday season, I want to acknowledge something we don’t talk about enough:
The holidays can be beautiful… but they can also be incredibly hard for anyone who is grieving or missing someone. 💙
Many people around us are carrying invisible emotional weight while trying to move through daily life and celebrations.
If that’s you — please know that you are not alone.
Be gentle with yourself, and reach out to someone you trust if you need support.
I recently created a children’s picture book, Caitlin’s Star, to help families talk gently about loss and healing — and I hope it brings comfort to anyone who needs it this season.
Wishing peace, compassion, and light to all who are hurting.
Today our yoga practice centered on the word “Pause.” It
feels especially meaningful during this busy holiday season, when so
many of us are rushing from one responsibility to the next and our minds
rarely stand still. In yoga, a pause is a conscious moment of
stillness; a place to breathe, reflect, and reconnect with what matters
most.
As I lay on my mat, I thought about how the word pause
has shaped my life, especially as a mother. I remembered the years when
bedtime stories, baths, and giggles filled our evenings — and how often
I wanted to rush through them to get to the next task.
There
were lunches to pack, clothes to prepare, work deadlines waiting. And
too many nights, I forgot to pause… to inhale the scent of freshly
washed hair, to treasure warm snuggles, to listen to the laughter.
And then one day, it all changed. No more bedtime stories. No more rocking-chair cuddles. No more blanket-fort adventures beneath the dining room table.
What
breaks your heart is that you never know when it’s the last time —
until years later, when you realize those moments had a beginning and an
end.
This week, we celebrate Thanksgiving and it is a reminder of how important it is to pause and truly see the people we love. To be present. To savor the laughter and the faces around the table.
That’s one of the reasons I wrote Caitlin’s Star
— to honor love, family, and the memories we carry with us forever. The
story is a reminder that connection lasts, and that the moments we
pause to treasure become the ones we hold in our hearts.
So my wish for all of us this season is simple: Pause. Look up. Hold the joy. Treasure today — because we are not guaranteed tomorrow.
Last
night I had the honor of reading Caitlin’s Star to a widows support
group of more than 35 women.
While I originally wrote this
book to help children understand the loss of a loved one, I continue to be
humbled by how deeply it resonates with adults as well.
After
the reading, I invited everyone to take a note card and write the name of
someone they love who has passed, and to imagine what their “Heavenly Job” might be. I told them they
didn’t need to share — but almost everyone did.
I
heard: ⭐ meatball
maker ⭐
fisherman ⭐ party
planner ⭐ playing
cards ⭐ leading
a team
…and so many more.
When
it was my turn, I shared my Heavenly Jobs too: ✨ My
brother-in-law - allocating the striped bass limit for this season’s run ✨ My mom -
lighting the stars to keep the lights on ✨ My
father - singing in the heavenly choir
These
small, loving images brought warmth and smiles, and reminded us that the people
we miss still shine in the stories we tell.
At
the end of the evening, I asked everyone to hold
on to their card as a reminder of their loved one, a small but
powerful way to keep their light close.
There
were some tears, laughter, quiet reflection, long hugs, and so much love in that
room. I was deeply moved by the strength, honesty, and tenderness these women
shared with one another and with me, a stranger. I left humbled and grateful.
Caitlin’s Star may be a
children’s book, but last night reminded me that grief
has no age limit and neither does love.
Last
night I had the honor of reading Caitlin’s Star to a widows support
group of more than 35 women.
While I originally wrote this
book to help children understand the loss of a loved one, I continue to be
humbled by how deeply it resonates with adults as well.
After
the reading, I invited everyone to take a note card and write the name of
someone they love who has passed, and to imagine what their “Heavenly Job” might be. I told them they
didn’t need to share — but almost everyone did.
I
heard: ⭐ meatball
maker ⭐
fisherman ⭐ party
planner ⭐ playing
cards ⭐ leading
a team
…and so many more.
When
it was my turn, I shared my Heavenly Jobs too: ✨ My
brother-in-law - allocating the striped bass limit for this season’s run ✨ My mom -
lighting the stars to keep the lights on ✨ My
father - singing in the heavenly choir
These
small, loving images brought warmth and smiles, and reminded us that the people
we miss still shine in the stories we tell.
At
the end of the evening, I asked everyone to hold
on to their card as a reminder of their loved one — a small but
powerful way to keep their light close.
There
were tears, laughter, quiet reflection, long hugs, and so much love in that
room. I was deeply moved by the strength, honesty, and tenderness these women
shared with one another — and with me. I left humbled and grateful.
Caitlin’s Star may be a
children’s book, but last night reminded me that grief
has no age limit — and neither does love.
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