386. Multiverse
- Show Notes
- Transcript
As a widow, Nora has taken a concept from the Marvel cinematic universe and applied it to her grief.
About It's Going to Be OK
If you have anxiety, depression or any sense of the world around you, you know that not *everything* is going to be okay. In fact, many things aren’t okay and never will be!
But instead of falling into the pit of despair, we’re bringing you a little OK for your day. Every weekday, we’ll bring you one okay thing to help you start, end or endure your day with the opposite of a doom scroll.
Find Nora’s weekly newsletter here! Also, check out Nora on YouTube.
Share your OK thing at 502-388-6529 or by emailing a note or voice memo to [email protected]. Start your message with “I’m (name) and it’s going to be okay.”
“It’s Going To Be OK” is brought to you by The Hartford. The Hartford is a leading insurance provider that connects people and technology for better employee benefits. Learn more at www.thehartford.com/benefits.
The IGTBO team is Nora McInerny, Claire McInerny, Marcel Malekebu, Amanda Romani and Grace Barry.
Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Transcripts may not appear in their final version and are subject to change.
Nora: I’m Nora McInerny and it’s going to be okay. My husband Aaron turned 45 on August 21st, uh, or he would have. He didn’t actually turn 45 because he died in 2014 and the son that we had together is 11 now, which feels absolutely bonkers. That is an age that I could not imagine him being in those first few months of widowhood when he was just like in that toddler phase. He was like a soft little bear cub. He has his father’s eyes. He has his father’s build. He has his father’s comedic timing. At the very beginning of the school year, we were running through a Michael’s 6 p. m. We were experiencing a deep meaningful spiritual experience in the child parent continuum.
We were on our way to get materials for a presentation that was due the next day. We’re running, sprinting through the parking lot, our feet slapping against the asphalt, and my kid asked me, what if it turns out that Papa was faking it this whole time? and never actually died. And I laughed so hard. I laughed out loud.
I laughed and I meant it because that’s the kind of prank that I could see Aaron pulling off. I could believe it, that kind of magical thinking, if I couldn’t also see the last weeks and days and minutes of his life so vividly in my brain even 10 years later. My son asked, do you think about that? Do you think about what life would be like if Papa was alive?
And the answer of course is yes, of course I do.
I have dreams that really feel more like visits where I spend the night following Aaron through a party. I’m always like just missing him. I’m about to tap him on the shoulder and someone cuts me off or I see him from across the room and we make eye contact and I’m like trying to catch up with him and I just can’t.
Or when I finally do catch up with him, it is so real. It feels like he’s there and that he never left. And I always tell him everything that he’s missed in like this desperate monologue. Like I know that he’s about to disappear. And then I realize at the very end of our conversation, many times, I realize I’m married.
And I always say, Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I didn’t know you were coming back. I can’t believe I got married. Like, oh no, what am I supposed to do? He’s never upset. He’s never surprised. He actually seems perfectly fine with the idea of living as a throuple with me and Matthew and all of the kids. I always wake up from these dreams feeling like I actually saw Aaron, like it was real.
Like I really did agree to live with him and Matthew together in unholy matrimony. But I also kind of do live with him and Matthew, even today. Aaron is everywhere in our house and in our family. We wouldn’t have each other, we wouldn’t have the family that I have now, if I hadn’t lost Aaron. But we also wouldn’t have the family that we have if Matthew hadn’t married a specific person at a specific time or if I had left New York City six months later or six months earlier or if any other significant or seemingly insignificant variable had been any different.
There is just no today without yesterday and you can’t change one thing without changing everything.
I noticed recently that the Marvel Cinematic Universe is actually now the Marvel Cinematic Multiverse. Every movie seems to include a visitor from an alternate universe or a rip in the time space continuum that allows for new possibilities that move the plot along in ways that, you know, really don’t have to make any kind of sense.
And I love it every time. I love a different version of Peter Parker and Spider Man and Mary Jane or Gwen. I love imagining that there are different decisions we could make or situations that we enter that splinter our realities into alternate versions that unfold just out of our view. These movies are like magical thinking on the big screen and they are in so many ways balm for a grieving heart.
Like your loved one is out there still somewhere living out the future that you had imagined together and millions, maybe billions of futures that you hadn’t even imagined together. They’re out there ad infinitum. Ad infinitum? I don’t, I don’t know how to say that word. I shouldn’t say words I don’t know how to say.
And so are we. We are living out there. In different versions of ourselves with different haircuts and different careers and a different set of exes and traumas and joys, too.
After Aaron turned 45, Matthew turned 46. And in another life, the two of us never met. And he is living in a temperate climate with a woman who has glossy brown hair, who does not have GERD, Or IBS, and I don’t know, makes granola or something. And I’m pretty sure she wears like glasses, like really thick, expensive glasses that she actually like needs and remembers to wear.
And in another life, I have Aaron, and I have Ralph, and Ralph And in another life, I have Aaron, and our son, and the baby sister that he was supposed to have. I love the life that I have, and the lives that I had, and the lives that I never had too. But Aaron, if you are out there and you did fake your death, you got me buddy.
You got me. You got me. You are the funniest man alive and I’m gonna kill you. I’m Nora McInerny. It’s going to be okay. We’re here Monday through Friday to put a little bit of okay in your day. You can find contact information, links to our YouTube, uh, links to the news. There are all kinds of stuff in our show description, but otherwise we’ll see you here again Monday through Friday.
Our team here. If you forgot, it’s me, Claire McInerny, Grace Berry, and Marcel Malekebu. The episode was mixed by Amanda Romani, and our theme music is by Secret Audio.
As a widow, Nora has taken a concept from the Marvel cinematic universe and applied it to her grief.
About It's Going to Be OK
If you have anxiety, depression or any sense of the world around you, you know that not *everything* is going to be okay. In fact, many things aren’t okay and never will be!
But instead of falling into the pit of despair, we’re bringing you a little OK for your day. Every weekday, we’ll bring you one okay thing to help you start, end or endure your day with the opposite of a doom scroll.
Find Nora’s weekly newsletter here! Also, check out Nora on YouTube.
Share your OK thing at 502-388-6529 or by emailing a note or voice memo to [email protected]. Start your message with “I’m (name) and it’s going to be okay.”
“It’s Going To Be OK” is brought to you by The Hartford. The Hartford is a leading insurance provider that connects people and technology for better employee benefits. Learn more at www.thehartford.com/benefits.
The IGTBO team is Nora McInerny, Claire McInerny, Marcel Malekebu, Amanda Romani and Grace Barry.
Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Transcripts may not appear in their final version and are subject to change.
Nora: I’m Nora McInerny and it’s going to be okay. My husband Aaron turned 45 on August 21st, uh, or he would have. He didn’t actually turn 45 because he died in 2014 and the son that we had together is 11 now, which feels absolutely bonkers. That is an age that I could not imagine him being in those first few months of widowhood when he was just like in that toddler phase. He was like a soft little bear cub. He has his father’s eyes. He has his father’s build. He has his father’s comedic timing. At the very beginning of the school year, we were running through a Michael’s 6 p. m. We were experiencing a deep meaningful spiritual experience in the child parent continuum.
We were on our way to get materials for a presentation that was due the next day. We’re running, sprinting through the parking lot, our feet slapping against the asphalt, and my kid asked me, what if it turns out that Papa was faking it this whole time? and never actually died. And I laughed so hard. I laughed out loud.
I laughed and I meant it because that’s the kind of prank that I could see Aaron pulling off. I could believe it, that kind of magical thinking, if I couldn’t also see the last weeks and days and minutes of his life so vividly in my brain even 10 years later. My son asked, do you think about that? Do you think about what life would be like if Papa was alive?
And the answer of course is yes, of course I do.
I have dreams that really feel more like visits where I spend the night following Aaron through a party. I’m always like just missing him. I’m about to tap him on the shoulder and someone cuts me off or I see him from across the room and we make eye contact and I’m like trying to catch up with him and I just can’t.
Or when I finally do catch up with him, it is so real. It feels like he’s there and that he never left. And I always tell him everything that he’s missed in like this desperate monologue. Like I know that he’s about to disappear. And then I realize at the very end of our conversation, many times, I realize I’m married.
And I always say, Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I didn’t know you were coming back. I can’t believe I got married. Like, oh no, what am I supposed to do? He’s never upset. He’s never surprised. He actually seems perfectly fine with the idea of living as a throuple with me and Matthew and all of the kids. I always wake up from these dreams feeling like I actually saw Aaron, like it was real.
Like I really did agree to live with him and Matthew together in unholy matrimony. But I also kind of do live with him and Matthew, even today. Aaron is everywhere in our house and in our family. We wouldn’t have each other, we wouldn’t have the family that I have now, if I hadn’t lost Aaron. But we also wouldn’t have the family that we have if Matthew hadn’t married a specific person at a specific time or if I had left New York City six months later or six months earlier or if any other significant or seemingly insignificant variable had been any different.
There is just no today without yesterday and you can’t change one thing without changing everything.
I noticed recently that the Marvel Cinematic Universe is actually now the Marvel Cinematic Multiverse. Every movie seems to include a visitor from an alternate universe or a rip in the time space continuum that allows for new possibilities that move the plot along in ways that, you know, really don’t have to make any kind of sense.
And I love it every time. I love a different version of Peter Parker and Spider Man and Mary Jane or Gwen. I love imagining that there are different decisions we could make or situations that we enter that splinter our realities into alternate versions that unfold just out of our view. These movies are like magical thinking on the big screen and they are in so many ways balm for a grieving heart.
Like your loved one is out there still somewhere living out the future that you had imagined together and millions, maybe billions of futures that you hadn’t even imagined together. They’re out there ad infinitum. Ad infinitum? I don’t, I don’t know how to say that word. I shouldn’t say words I don’t know how to say.
And so are we. We are living out there. In different versions of ourselves with different haircuts and different careers and a different set of exes and traumas and joys, too.
After Aaron turned 45, Matthew turned 46. And in another life, the two of us never met. And he is living in a temperate climate with a woman who has glossy brown hair, who does not have GERD, Or IBS, and I don’t know, makes granola or something. And I’m pretty sure she wears like glasses, like really thick, expensive glasses that she actually like needs and remembers to wear.
And in another life, I have Aaron, and I have Ralph, and Ralph And in another life, I have Aaron, and our son, and the baby sister that he was supposed to have. I love the life that I have, and the lives that I had, and the lives that I never had too. But Aaron, if you are out there and you did fake your death, you got me buddy.
You got me. You got me. You are the funniest man alive and I’m gonna kill you. I’m Nora McInerny. It’s going to be okay. We’re here Monday through Friday to put a little bit of okay in your day. You can find contact information, links to our YouTube, uh, links to the news. There are all kinds of stuff in our show description, but otherwise we’ll see you here again Monday through Friday.
Our team here. If you forgot, it’s me, Claire McInerny, Grace Berry, and Marcel Malekebu. The episode was mixed by Amanda Romani, and our theme music is by Secret Audio.
Our Sponsor
The Hartford is a leading insurance provider that’s connecting people and technology for better employee benefits.
Learn more at www.thehartford.com/benefits.
Have a story you want to share?
Share your OK thing at 502-388-6529 or by emailing a note or voice memo to [email protected].
Start your message with:
"I’m (name) and it’s going to be okay."