MAKE IT A GREAT DAY

My Dad’s Most Powerful Life Lesson

It was December 5, 2020. That meant it was almost the first yahrzeit - the anniversary - of my Dad’s unexpected, tragic passing. 

I was coping with one of my 5-mile walks, where I would peacefully process my grief while acknowledging the beauty around me.  

In despair, I prayed for an antidote to my pain. 

I was contemplating just how I was supposed to move forward with the unbearable absence of my Dad each day. Even while functioning at what appeared to be a high level, I still felt lost, scared, angry and very sad. It did not seem to be softening. My heart was heavy. I felt daunted by the days and years ahead without my Dad. 

It was during this particular walk that I realized it was time for a positive change. 

The trying year was coming to a close.

It started with the sudden loss of my Dad, which I learned about just 30 minutes after waking up from anesthesia. I had undergone what one doctor dubbed a “futile” IVF procedure - part of a fertility process I had just started 6 months earlier. 

Still groggy, I received heartbreaking news and instantly, my life changed forever. 

I was suddenly in a twilight zone nightmare.

Abruptly, I left New York City to return to my childhood town - but not my home, which had just been sold, as my parents planned to move for retirement later that year. 

Everything felt foreign.

The absence of my Dad was shocking. 

And then the world around me became both bizarre and frightening.

After returning to NYC 6 weeks later, COVID hit, and I lived at the epicenter of the global pandemic, which was declared just days before my next egg retrieval.

Needless to say, the universe had thrown me a series of concurrent curveballs. 

Almost a year later, there I was, alone on the beach, bundled up from head to toe. 

I was about to embark on another IVF cycle - this time to get pregnant - while closing out a terrifying year…and I was concerned. 

The new year was coming. 

In 2021, I’d still be without my Dad. I couldn’t just say “bye 2020” like pervasive social media sentiment reflected.

For me, I knew that 2020 permanently changed my life. 

I feared it would haunt me forever. 

The new calendar year was not a fresh start. Instead, it represented a new reality that with each new year, I’d be living yet another day without my Dad - and with the timing of January, I’d start each new year with this dreadful milestone. And with genetic factors putting the odds against us, I still needed to urgently resume IVF to maximize the chance for healthy embryos.

Thoughts and questions swirled in my mind.

How is this a reality that I am supposed to just get used to or accept?

What in the world am I supposed to do to soften these intense feelings of sadness, disorientation and anger? 

How on earth has it been nearly one year since my Dad and I last spoke, hugged, and spent time together? 

When will I be able to answer the basic question  “how are you?” with ease and nonchalance like everyone else?

Then, I said out loud: 

“Dad, come on. Tell me what to do.”

“I mean it. What am I supposed to do here without you now? This is just going on far too long.”

”I know I’m talking to myself, but I also think you may be listening. Are you there Dad?”

”WHERE ARE YOU DAD?”

“Help me. Help me now.”

As my thoughts flooded me, the ocean waves cascaded. I took a few breaths and mentally returned back to center.

I looked at the “sun hitting the water”, just like my Dad always liked it.

And then…I heard him. I heard his voice.

It was as if my Dad whispered right into my ear. 

He said: “Make it a Great Day.”

Did he just tell me to Make it a Great Day?

That sounds familiar, I thought.

It hit me. 

I looked out into the ocean and up at the blue sky. 

Was the universe - or even my Dad - answering my prayers for help? 

At that moment, I vividly recalled his morning text sent daily around 7 o’clock  - where he sign-off with the message: Make it a Great Day.

Make it a Great Day. 

IN DESPAIR, HE ANSWERED MY PRAYER

Standing in the middle of the desolate beach, my prayers for help and guidance were answered: Make it a Great Day.

As I processed this statement, the words had an immediate impact - I knew that in some way, shape or form, my Dad was reminding me of his most powerful life lesson.

The idea that I have the capability and opportunity to make my day great became such a clear and meaningful message. I thought, well this may be doable.

How can I make it a great day today? 

What does a great day look like?

Oh, and does it have to be great? Because that feels a bit ambitious.

Through such reflection, I realized that Make It a Great Day means I need to focus on this day, not the 50+ years ahead of me (per my calculations on what’s left of life without my Dad, depending on how long I live - yes, it goes THAT deep). 

If I can just make one day great, I thought, then I could start to get through more days and ultimately a lifetime. 

A whole day feels like a lot, I thought. 

I decided even just one millisecond of greatness sufficed for the moment. 

What does ‘feeling good’ feel like?

What are the daily activities that make me feel good?

Who do I need to be around to feel supported and loved?

Immediately inspired, I gained a profound understanding of what I needed to do to move forward. 

This clarity, I have since learned, is what spiritual teachers and psychologists call The Knowing. It was certainly one of those times where I had this physical, mental, emotional and spiritual, undeniable realization that Make it a Great Day was to be my way forward. 

My mantra. My way of life. My compass. My primary coping strategy. 

Make it a great day. 

Not have a great day. 

Not good luck today. 

Not enjoy the day. 

Not hope or try.

But Make It. 

Do It. 

BE it. 

Even writing this now, I feel the calling to just Be Me and Embrace Life. 

I’m still here and have the opportunity to enjoy my life. Yes, there are times when I feel defeated. The bulk of my 30s have been riddled with cumulative grief and trauma. 

Inherently, grief is interconnected with fertility. 

For me, it was magnified by the timing of the sudden loss of my father just within my first of what became seven years of IVF. The IVF compounded my losses, and COVID isolation exacerbated the grief. 

And yet, I am stronger than ever before, more grounded, more connected to my values, more vulnerable, more empathetic, and more proud of who I am and who I want to continue to be. 

And, I remain connected with my Dad, whose teachings prompted self-reflection and the way forward.

Now, I appreciate how miraculous it is that my Dad, even when physically absent, has helped through the toughest time of my life. 

Make it a Great Day, my mantra, is about saying “yes” to life. 

By sharing, I honor his admirable legacy, and intend to give others hope and encouragement. More personally, I want my now three month old daughter, Alanna, to read this and know about her grandfather Alan Paul Gerber, after whom she is named. 

May we all find the strength to love and fully embrace the wonders of life just as much as my beloved Dad.