213. Maybe It’s Me

Showing up for yourself, even when things are hard, sad or terrible, is always a good idea. 

Transcripts may not appear in their final version and are subject to change.

Jill:  Hey, Nora. It’s Jill.  I originally sent this to you in an email, but realized that it’s really me who should be telling this story  because I feel like for the past nine plus years,  I’ve been searching for that one thing that’s going to make me realize it’s all going to be okay.  Like you in 2014, my husband died. 

He was an avid and skilled mountaineer and was caught in an avalanche near Seattle on May 14th.  He was back country skiing with his best friend who survived.  He said goodnight to our beautiful kids who were just five and seven and never came back.  In 2015, my mom was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer and after 10 short months of treatment died on May 9th, 2016. 

My wedding anniversary is May 28th.  So. The month of May has pretty much sucked for years. It actually makes me think of the first time I saw your TED talk. You commented about your second pregnancy, losing your husband and your father, and then said, so I’m fun.  

I’ve raised our kids alone.  About four years after my husband died, I left our community and moved to Oregon, needing to make a change and get out from underneath the collective grief we all shared.  We live in a little quiet neighborhood.  My kids are 14 and 16 now, and after many rocky years, seem to be in a stable place. They’re healthy, intelligent. And I think what I’m most proud of, empathetic.  I’ve tried to date since my husband died, but very few times have I dated someone  and I thought they would be the person that I would continue life with. 

And after every relationship ends, I get on a real judgy bender  about how needing someone is a weakness. I feel bitter about intact families. Even divorce couples drive me crazy with their whole, it’s not my week with the kids thing.  And it even goes as far as the New York times cooking recipes that start with, I made this for my husband this week.

And,  but after a while,  all the thoughts start to even out. And the one that rises to the top is that I’m good. I’m good on my own. I’m solid and I’m good. You’re good. You’re good together. We’re all good.  

When I look back on the almost 10 years of going it alone,  I start to think that maybe it’s all the things that are my okay. 

It’s that I’ve shown up for my kids from the time they were tiny and would crawl in bed with me crying that they miss their daddy,  to now when they’re struggling to cope with grief as teenagers.  Maybe it’s that even though I’m in debt all the time, there’s still food on the table, a roof over our heads, my kids are healthy, can go to summer camp, take art classes, and will go to college. 

Maybe it’s that I keep trying to open my heart to love and companionship, even though nothing works out.  Maybe it’s that I’ve been fine tuning our lives, advocating for us and protecting us when no one else was here to do it.  So through all that, maybe I’m the reason it’s all going to be okay  because I haven’t given up  no matter how hard this is and how much I want to some days. I haven’t given up.