Not Okay, But We’re Gonna Be Alright

People keep asking how I’m doing.

The honest answer? I’m not okay. And maybe that’s okay to say.

Nineteen years of marriage. Two incredible kids—18 and 15—who’ve grown into amazing young adults despite watching their mom fight battles no family should have to face. She’s been a light not just for our little zoo at home, but for kids across our state. Her spirit, her heart, her way of making everything brighter—it’s all still there. I see it. I know it. But sitting in the ICU again, after we were so close to rehab, after we’d started to hope… some days it’s all just too much.

Last fall, we went to see Jelly Roll in concert. There was this song that hit us both, and we’ve been playing it through all of this with Bella. The lyrics keep running through my head: “I am not okay, I’m barely getting by… So if I say I’m fine, just know I learned to hide it well.”

That’s the truth of it. We learn to hide it well, don’t we? We smile when people ask. We say we’re hanging in there. We keep moving because stopping feels like giving up, and giving up isn’t an option when someone you love is fighting.

But here’s what I want you to know—what I need you to know: I see each and every one of you who has reached out. I read your posts. I see your emojis. I feel your prayers wrapping around our family like a blanket on the hardest nights. Your support doesn’t go unnoticed. It matters more than you’ll ever know.

I pray for each of you too. I pray that no family ever has to walk this path again. I pray for the medical professionals who care for her, who see us at our most vulnerable and still show up with compassion and skill. They’re fighting alongside us, and I’m grateful beyond words.

And yes, if I’m being completely honest—Tabby is mad at God right now. Trust me, we’ve had some heated conversations on Interstate 79 North after visiting her. Sometimes faith looks like yelling at the sky because you love someone so much it hurts. Sometimes it looks like showing up anyway, even when you’re angry. Even when you don’t understand.

The thing about not being okay is that it’s honest. It’s real. It’s human. We weren’t meant to carry this kind of weight and pretend it’s light. We weren’t meant to smile through everything and act like our hearts aren’t breaking.

But here’s what I’m holding onto: the last line of that song. “It’s not okay, but we’re all gonna be alright.”

I don’t know what the near future looks like. I don’t know about long-term. What I do know is that love this deep doesn’t just disappear. The light that makes her who she is—that’s not going anywhere. Our amazing kids, this community that surrounds us, the spirit that still shines in her eyes—that’s what’s going to carry us through.

So to everyone asking how I’m doing: I’m not okay. But I’m still here. Still fighting. Still believing that somehow, someway, we’re all gonna be alright.

Thank you for walking this road with us. Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for holding us up when we can’t hold ourselves.

We’re not okay. But we’re not alone. And maybe that’s enough for today.