The Turkey Baster Strategy for Life

We like to think we’re in control, but let’s be real: we’re all just one phone call—like the one I got while I was standing in the middle of a Meijer—or one split-second accident away from having the rug completely yanked out from under us. I’ve learned this truth the hard way, losing so many people I love in such a short, brutal window of time—Stacey, Tom, my dad Dan, LaNell, my husband Greg, and Tiffany.

When you get hit by that kind of wave, the world stops. You find yourself lying on the ground, wondering how the earth is still spinning when yours has come to a dead halt.

The Heavy Choice

There is a moment in the aftermath of every tragedy where you are faced with a choice. It’s a quiet, heavy, and deeply personal decision:

Do I stay down here?

Staying down is easy. It’s safe. It’s where the grief and the "what-ifs" live. But the trap isn't always the big grief; sometimes, it’s the small, ridiculous inconveniences that act as magnets, pulling you right back into the pit.

The Turkey Baster Disaster

Take the other day, for example. I finally convinced myself it was time to go get those annuals for the patio planter pots. I enlisted Avery to join me, and we were actually ready to go. Then, in a moment of pure, distracted chaos—a classic case of that "widow's brain" fog I’ve written about before— I grabbed the windshield wiper fluid and poured it right into the coolant reservoir. (Hey, shut up! They are both green! I feel you judging me.)

My first instinct? To say,

“Screw it. I’m not going to buy the frickin' flowers.” 

And I can only imagine the sheer horror on Greg’s face as he watched from above, witnessing that epic screw-up! I’m sure he was either laughing his head off or shaking his head in total disbelief... perhaps a bit of both?

In my state of sheer panic, I immediately called two of Greg’s best guy friends, but it was actually Avery who stepped up first. She remained completely calm and collected, handling me in my stress with a grace that reminded me so much of her Daddy.

She took action immediately!

While the guys rushed over to make sure I hadn't totally ruined the car, Avery and I were already on it. She was an absolute champ. We grabbed the good old turkey baster, and she siphoned every last bit of that fluid out of the tank so we could carry on.

It was a perfect, messy reminder that life is going to throw these absurd little hurdles at you, and you have two choices:

Let the disaster stop you,

—or—

Get out the turkey baster

And keep moving.

Finding Joy in the Chaos

Then there’s the other kind of pit—the one I find myself standing at when I look at the milestones that were meant to be shared. If I’m being honest, it’s only the presence of my grandchildren (and my adult kids) that has kept me moving forward. Adelyn and Elliott are my lifeline; they are the one thing that gives me a reason to get up, get dressed, and face the day. I honestly do not know where I would be, or what I would be doing, if I didn't have the sheer joy of looking forward to time with them. They remind me that life, despite everything, is still happening right here, right now.

Take this past April. It was the joint birthday celebration for the grandkids: Elliott turning one and Adelyn turning six. I dreaded it, knowing Greg wasn't there to see it. How could there be "joy" in a day that was missing one of its most important pieces?

It wasn't exactly a Hallmark commercial—Elliott was incredibly fussy and slept through most of the festivities, and there was plenty of standard, chaotic kid-party energy.

But even in the middle of that, I chose to lean into the day. I realized that honoring Greg doesn't mean I have to stay in the shadows of what’s missing. It means I get to be the bridge that carries our love forward to the grandkids, through the naps, the tantrums, and everything in between.

Choosing to Show Up

I want to be real with you: most days, I’m just a big hot mess. My emotions are a roller coaster that changes hour by hour. Some days, I have no idea what my future looks like, or what my goals and dreams even are anymore. That’s the reality of this life.

But I’m choosing to wake up anyway. I’m choosing to plant those annuals, even if I have to fix a car engine with a kitchen utensil to get there. Because resilience isn't about ignoring the hit. It isn't about pretending you weren't knocked down.

Resilience is the messy, often sarcastic, and deeply authentic act of getting back up—whether you’re fixing an engine, celebrating a birthday, or just dragging yourself out of bed to face another day. It’s deciding that even though your life was uprooted, you are still the one who gets to decide how you grow in the new soil.

And through all of this, I have realized just how deeply grateful I am for my Tribe. Those friends who drop everything to rush over—whether it’s to check a car engine or just to sit with me in the silence—are my lifeline. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that Greg is so incredibly thankful, too. Knowing that I have this village to lean on in his absence gives me a peace that helps me carry on.

“It’s not about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward.” — Rocky Balboa

If you’ve been knocked down, you know the weight of it. But please, remember: the tragedy didn't end your story. It just changed the landscape. You are still the one holding the pen. And if you spill the wrong fluid in the tank today, just curse loudly, laugh at the absurdity of it, and keep going.

Reflective Journal Prompts

1. The "Turkey Baster" Moment: What is one small, annoying problem that recently knocked you off balance? How did you—or how could you—get through it without letting it stop you completely?

   
   

2. Turning Dread into Connection: What is one activity or milestone you’ve been dreading because it’s missing a special person? How can you show up for that moment in a way that honors the love you still carry?

   
   

3. Your "One Foot" Goal: When you don’t have a big plan for the future, what is one tiny, simple thing you can do today that makes you feel like you're moving forward?