I think the hardest thing so far about losing your spouse is the un surety and second guessing that goes along with it. In particular when it comes to raising my children.

I find myself contemplating decisions much longer, worrying whether I’m doing a good enough job, pushing them hard enough, being sensitive to their hearts and really giving them the very best life that I can. I imagine a lot of people feel this way, It just SEEMS more prevalent than before.

Maybe it’s their age, or the intensity of their sports, maybe it’s that I recognize their full potential before they even know they have it in them, maybe it’s my own ego playing the not good enough game. All of the pressures kids face these days, at times it can be overwhelming.

My mind is constant and in these places, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so alone. I suppose people feel this way in divorce as well, I can’t compare. I don’t know, really. Everyone has their own story.

I look for signs all the time: a cardinal, a song, a moment of stillness. Anything that can tell me YES! You are moving in a good direction, making the right decisions, keep going, you’re good, you got this.

I remember my own core values: family, travel, passion, connection, loyalty, leadership – and stand solidly in their foundation. When you go back to the basics, all things fall into place – or fall aside. Dance with your heart and your feet will follow – isn’t that what they say?

I talk with my people, my family, my friends. My army of True North – who know me, my girls and some even Dean. They listen, and listen, and hash it all out with me, sometimes guiding, sometimes commiserating, sometimes just standing with me in the unknown.

I watch my girls from afar quite often. It’s something I secretly cherish: observing the people I love doing what they love to do. It puts a smile on my face in the simplest way, like when you catch a reflection of light, when they SHINE. In those moments, I know were are OK.

I am one lucky mama, who has the most amazing yet difficult job of keeping my two shining stars on track and true to their hearts. I miss their Dad, and his laugh and his unending palpable love for them. I believe he is with us, watching, guiding from “above” truly I do. I believe our path is our path, and that God has our back. I have Faith, and in that knowing, everything has its place. It’s in the hustle of the doing, the busy, the everyday grind, that I forget for a moment my Faith.

Sometime though, when I can slow down and finally breathe – at the end of the day, of the week of the summer – before I lay my head down to rest – I get quiet and I know this: as long as I did my very best that given day and my children know how much they are loved, I am good.