Publisher's Letter - Feb 2026

Amelia Frazier Theobald 

Dear Louisville Voices & Readers, 

February often asks us to define love in neat little boxes: romantic, familial, celebratory. But this month, I find myself talking with the office about love in its most honest form: the kind that shows up without saying anything, when you least expect it. The kind that doesn’t need words, because the selfless act says everything. 

That moment when someone offers up their jacket to lend a hand. Or the person who read your Facebook post and shows up to the visitation just to make sure everyone got a hug. 

It’s a modest kind of love, but a beautiful and powerful kind. It’s loving your community. 

This issue is about community love, supporting a neighbor because we never fully know what someone else is carrying. It’s about meeting people with kindness while still honoring our own path, and learning how not to lose ourselves to people-pleasing along the way. Love, at the end of the day, is the most generous gift we can give, and one that costs us nothing but awareness and time. 

Last month, my uncle passed away. Grief has a way of rearranging your world. It reminds you how fragile time is, how easily routines shift, and how much you miss the simple act of being together. In the middle of that, I kept returning to a line from Antonio’s “A Beautiful Nightmare” Article from this month’s volume: 

“Love does not like unfinished things.” 

That idea echoes throughout this issue, in the stories of people who stayed, who showed up, who carried on when it would have been easier to turn away. Or my favorite, the people who showed up completely speechless because they knew that sometimes all you need is a really good hug. 

In our tribute to Nancy Romanus, from Baptist Health/Milestone Wellness Center, we are reminded that love often lives in consistency. Nancy unlocked doors before sunrise and greeted the “earliest risers of our community”, and made early mornings feel lighter for everyone. Her story reminds us that sometimes love looks like being a steady presence, a morning star, even when you think no one is keeping tabs. 

In A Broken Heart Without the Breakup, Tonya Ramsey Abeln writes with stunning honesty about grief that has no villain, no clean resolution. She reminds us that healing doesn’t always mean returning to who we were before, but learning to live with a new shape of love. 

“That unbearable pain is evidence of love that mattered.” 

That sentiment feels like the heartbeat of this issue. 

So many of the stories this month speak to care that is gentle, patient, and human. From Valaterra, a place where grief was transformed into grace, we’re reminded: 

“You do not have to be healed to arrive. You just have to show up.” 

From Woman-Owned Wallet, we’re asked not just to admire the idea of community, but to practice it, to learn how to be villagers, not just beneficiaries. From Transcendent Wellness, we’re reminded that caring for the body without tending to the spirit leaves something unfinished. 

Even our lighter guides, on beauty, fitness, camps, and self-care, return to the same truth: taking care of yourself is not indulgent. It’s foundational. Strength training, balance, rest, routine, and slowing down, these are not about perfection, but sustainability. As one contributor shared, “If I’m not good to myself, I’m not being good to you.” 

And then there are the moments of joy and creative expression; the music, the art, the athletes, the builders, the storytellers. Each of them reminds us that love also looks like dedication to craft, to place, to purpose. That loving your city, your work, and your people is a form of devotion. One to do better and be better. 

This month, I invite you to slow down. Do something healing for yourself, something small but intentional (Or BIG, we’re not judging here). Then take a bit of that restored energy and give it away. To a friend. A partner. Your family. Your community. Or to the quiet companions who love us unconditionally, your playful pup or your snuggle-bug cat, like my sweet Renfield. 

As one story in this issue gently urges: 

“Be swift to love and make haste to be kind.” 

That feels like the right place to land. 

With gratitude and heart,

Cheers to the many VOICES of Louisville, 

Amelia Frazier Theobald

Publisher & CEO, The VOICE-TRIBUNE6