When 27-year-old mechanic Jay Withey left work on December 23, 2022, he had no idea he would spend the next 48 hours becoming an accidental Christmas hero. A historic lake-effect blizzard—one of the deadliest in Buffalo’s history—trapped him on a road near Pine Hill School in Cheektowaga, a suburb. Jay had ventured out into the blizzard to pick up a friend who was stuck in the snow. But soon his truck became stranded in whiteout conditions: 50+ mph winds. Four feet of snow.

A blizzard that would ultimately claim the lives of 46 people across Erie County.

Jay was in trouble.

What chicken noodle soup can teach us about being better humans.

From what I hear, this is how most of us feel as we move into the middle of our lives—not in a moment of crisis, but through a slow-motion demolition, a dismantling, a deconstruction, a years-long pulling off of the band-aid to reveal the wound underneath.
I think the best description, however, comes from Brene Brown when she describes it as a “midlife unraveling”.

She says, “The truth is that the midlife unraveling is a series of painful nudges strung together by low-grade anxiety and depression, quiet desperation, and an insidious loss of control. By low-grade, quiet, and insidious, I mean it’s enough to make you crazy, but seldom enough for people on the outside to validate the struggle or offer you help and respite. It’s the dangerous kind of suffering—the kind that allows you to pretend that everything is OK.”

Originally, when I sat down to write this, the idea was to make a list called “The 41 Things I’ve Learned Turning 41”. It would get me clicks and comments, potentially go viral, and it might even be good.

But after a couple hours and nothing but a blank page, I lowered the bar and told myself that maybe just three or four would be enough.

An hour later, I decided it might be better just to be honest and say: I have no idea what I’m doing.