It’s Gonna Be OK
One of my favorite authors is Dave Barry, a humorist who wrote a column for the Miami Herald, and has written several very funny books. His latest is a memoir, Class Clown (2025). I highly recommend it. As with all of his work, I laughed my way through the book. My favorite page is near the end, where he writes, “There’s one more wisdom nugget I’d like to add, something that seems truer to me the older I get: It’s gonna be OK.”
Reading those words from someone who makes a living by being funny was so reassuring. I actually stopped and reread them, allowing them to settle in.
The words came at a time when I was experiencing doubt about my ability to look at the bright side of everything, which I’ve chronicled several times --- in blogs, and in my book, Grab Life by the Bungees and 50+ Other Ways to Find Humor, Hope and Happiness After Your Partner Has Died. Heck, I’m normally a poster child for positivity. Yet many times, this summer, I couldn’t shake off the negativity. Here are a few things I experienced:
I attended my youngest son Tommy’s wedding without his father. Our family tried to figure out how to honor Tim, my late husband and Tommy’s late father, without turning a joyous occasion into a sad one. Many friends and relatives told me, time and again, how happy they were for Tommy and his new wife Crystal, but so many of them said things like, “This must be so sad for you.” (Oh, yay. What was supposed to be a beautiful, joyous occasion was quickly becoming a day in which I had to manage grief.)
I attended several board meetings of the Timothy E. Nettles Memorial Golf Invitational, a yearly event during which we raise money for a new initiative --- The TEN Junior Golf Academy. These meetings are so wonderfully productive, but I spend much effort sitting through them, trying not to cry as I think about why we are doing what we’re doing. (Well, it’s because Tim died. Otherwise, we would not be hosting an event prefaced by the word “memorial.” Great. I was supposed to be holding everybody together and I was sitting there struggling with tears.)
I observed the one-year “deathversary” of the death of each of my parents --- one month apart. (I really dislike that coined word, but it does describe quite well the feeling I got when I realized what was happening a year ago on those days. Now, two perfectly good summer days were filled with memories of grief.)
I quietly remembered summer birthdays of people who are no longer with us --- my husband, my parents, and my father-in-law. Instead of smiles, I was wiping tears from my face as I recalled times when we surprised them with cake and songs and then I remembered that they were no longer around for us to sing to. (Ugh. Why can’t I just stick with the happy thoughts of birthday cake?!?)
My 67th birthday was this month. As always, because it is near the end of August, the day reminded me that my favorite time of year is drawing to a close. (Gee, I can’t even think of my own birthday as a happy occasion??)
So much for that positivity that I wrote about and speak of all the time. What happened to it? It’s funny how the happiest occasions can turn into the saddest ones, if I choose to focus on what’s missing.
However, if I slap myself, knock sense into my head, and choose to think about what’s present, maybe, just maybe I can turn my thoughts around. I can realize that everything, indeed, is gonna be okay. I can dwell on these things:
Tommy and Crystal’s wedding was spectacularly beautiful. I was accompanied by my partner Robert, a man who loves me and shares laughs with me every day. He supported me through the whole mess of trying to smile while ugly crying. At the end of the ceremony, a shower of rose petals gently rained on the bride and groom from the ceiling of the church. It was a magical moment, and it was when I realized that everything would all work out for all of us. I was further encouraged by Tommy’s 94-year-old grandmother, my mother-in-law, who recently and reluctantly moved to assisted living after her husband died three months ago. She flew into town to attend the wedding. She danced with the handsome groom and even took the microphone and spoke to all the guests about how happy she was for her “baby grandson.” She also introduced herself to my partner Robert, saying, “Any friend of Diane’s is a friend of mine.” She’s living proof that everything is gonna be OK.
I toured the new building in Pittsburgh that will house the TEN Memorial Golf Academy --- a project that my sons have begun with funds they are raising at the annual Timothy E. Nettles Memorial Golf Invitational. It will provide golf experiences, after-school tutoring, and life skills workshops to adolescents who may not otherwise have such opportunities. It launches in 2026. Additionally, they created the TEN Junior, which is an invitational junior golf tournament for student athletes ages 12-18, and runs in May. It’s so gratifying to know that in the seven years since their father died, my sons have discovered a way to turn tragedy into a purpose. They are making things OK for lots of young people. (Check out their story on https://tenmemorial.com)
August 7 is the day my mom died last year. It’s also the birthday of my new daughter-in-law, Crystal. One week after her birthday, she was the most beautiful bride as she married my son. On the night before their wedding, I spoke to our families at the rehearsal dinner. I told them, “At this point I would normally say ‘Let the celebrating begin!’ But honestly, I think we’ve all been celebrating since the day these two met, because they are truly so perfect for each other. So, I’ll say, ‘Let the celebrating continue!’” I’m so happy to welcome Crystal to our family, and to have a future of celebrating her on every August 7 from now on. I’ve never seen my son smile so much. His future is gonna be OK.
On August 24, my late father’s birthday, my other daughter-in-law Sarah took Crystal and me to a local farm --- to pick as many flowers as we wanted. It was her birthday gift to both of us. Now my home is filled with the bright and bold colors of late summer. And as I write this, sitting outside, I am surrounded by the flowers that I planted in May, still cheering me on and rewarding me for ruthlessly pruning and deadheading all summer. Even though summer is ending, I’ve still got a month or so left in these flowers. And it’s gonna be OK to welcome the next big thing … the colors of fall.
I watched as two of my grandchildren, Charlotte, and Abigail, began the school year with such enthusiasm and hope for a bright new school year … which August always brings. They both reported that they love their teachers and being in a class filled with friends. They are gonna be OK.
As Dave Barry says, “If you spend all your days worrying about some horrible catastrophe that never actually happens, you’re wasting the only days you get …. Try to remember, It’s gonna be OK.”
I’m reminded of what Robert Frost said, in 1954, in an interview to commemorate his 80th birthday: “In three words, I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life. It goes on.”
Indeed it does. And as was written in Ecclesiastes 3:1 and 3:4, “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.”
The good news is this: I’m in charge. As life, in all of its messiness and confusion, continues on, I can choose my time to weep and mourn or my time to laugh and dance. And I can choose to remember that through it all, everything really is gonna be OK.
References
Barry, D. (2025). Class clown --- The memoirs of a professional wiseass: How I went 77 years without growing up. New York: Simon & Schuster.
Josephs, R (1954, September). Robert Frost’s secret. The Cincinnati Enquirer, Section: This Week Magazine.
