I never really was a big “lean in”
fan, I respected Sheryl Sandburg for all of her accomplishments, yet challenged
her idea that you could have it all: business women; home for dinner every
night; picture perfect family. I mean it’s kinda unrealistic in this 24x7 tech
world; however, if she could do it - so could I. And, from that moment on, I
have followed her linkedin. It’s a bit unnerving to think about now, since we
both experienced profound loss so suddenly, unexpectedly, and way too young. Sometimes,
I still think about if only we had known 4 years ago today, what now is too
real to ever forget. Would we have still moved to Texas? Would we have changed
our entire course and path? Would it have mattered? Then, I realize it – the
wave – it’s been a few days or weeks but somehow the reality of grieving has
washed back on shore. It always comes from identifying a new norm. The moments
come and pass, and like our time in Texas – 4 years to the day, it’s about to
change yet again, as we beginning our journey back to the northeast. Drumroll…
We will be Rhode Islanders’ by August 1st.
Literally as I was preparing to
accept a new role inside my company and end the Texas chapter, a quote from
Sandberg’s commencement speech at Ucal’s popped up: “You are not born
with a fixed amount of resilience. Like a muscle, you can build it up, draw on
it when you need it. In that process you will figure out who you really are—and
you just might become the very best version of yourself... It is the greatest irony of my life that losing my husband
helped me find deeper gratitude,” concluding that finding gratitude and
appreciation were essential to building resilience.
I’m not
sure that my muscle has fully formed, but I love the concept that resilience is
a muscle built for and utilized in time of need. It kicks the “time heals all” metaphor’s
ass– time does not heal anything - conditioning your resilience muscle, by
literally surviving throughout all the moments, still having the ability to find
the deeper gratitude in life, and understand the true joy of life in itself. It
truly is the quest we all should be seeking, yet this particular journey only
manifested after my husband died too. Why?
One thing that she’s right about: “complete
irony.” I will never say Texas was a mistake for my family. I also can assure
you that my life would have been very different had we not come to Texas. Yet,
there is no way that I could have become the person I am today without our
journey to Texas 4 years ago. There are so many moments these last four years
to hone in on, yet there are no words to describe how I feel today. The first
that come to mind: Lost, confused, scared, lonely, sad to say goodbye, thrilled
to start a new chapter, accomplished, proud, guilty to feel proud, blessed to
go home, and most of all - profound gratitude and appreciation for every single
person that has crossed our lives these past 4 years in Texas and beyond.
In a time
when nothing in the world seems to make sense to me anymore, the one thing that
does make sense is that it’s not about the destination; it’s about the journey.
I have no idea what lies ahead and probably for the first time in my life, I
don’t feel anxious about that. Maybe it’s naivety to the change, or a new tidal
wave will crash tomorrow. Yet, somehow I know she’s right – when I need it –
resilience will surface because I have been training. Seriously, many thanks to
all of my friends, colleagues, my “tribe of mentors” and family for holding the
water bottle, giving me the energy pack, as I trained for this marathon.
At each step, new challenges have
emerged, yet I’ve been smarter, quicker, and more adaptable to jump with the
wave, rather than fight it and be swept out to sea. I’m still swept out to sea
sometimes, it’s okay, I always find my way home. Texas will always have an
extremely special place in my heart; we had our son here; we became a family
here; we hosted our first Thanksgiving; most importantly, I am more capable
today, and I’m doing better than just fine… but at the end of the day, I need
to catch the wave home – and I feel incredibly blessed tonight to have worked
so hard, opposing some doubters along the way to have the opportunity to jump
on this crazy tidal wave back out to sea to start the next chapter in our
journey. I only hope this time my eyes are open a bit to see the ride, rather
than being blinded by the mundane crises that cloud our judgment and prevent us
from feeling true compassion and joy. My irony also lies in the fact that I’m a
more grateful person today than I was 4 years ago when we set out on this
journey to the wild-wild west. As this chapter closes, I will rejoice in the
blessings and try hard to remember the bitter tears for the right reasons.
Empathy.
