trying

After the kids go to school, I become my mom. I walk around the house, turn off lights, flush toilets, and pick up the smattering of cups and glasses that have found a home in every single room in the house. I laugh to myself and then I find another glass full of water. Luckily, the cat didn’t knock this one over with his nimble and naughty paw.

The other day when texting with a friend whose mom died recently, she told me a story that made me well up about her dad. Her learned father is a retired professor of Russian literature and a master gardener. I’ve only met him once on a memorable trip with three other families to Westgate River Ranch where we went to a rodeo (my husband recorded it if anyone wants to watch this riveting footage) and drank beer out of a red plastic boot. A man of a different generation, independent, stubborn, and brilliant learning how to live without his wife and use his phone. She texted me that he was trying. I texted her back that I loved him for it.  

It made me think of conversations I had with my mom about how I yearned to hear her say, I love you. She’d respond, “I didn’t grow up hearing my parents say I love you.” Or “You know that I love you” Or “Why does it need to be said?” But at some point, she started saying I love you on the phone before we hung up and in person when I was visiting. And it was never lost on me how hard and strange it must have felt to her. She too was from this same generation as my friend’s dad and my mom’s parents while kind and lovable were not the touchy-feely types. But my mom tried anyway because she knew that it mattered to me. And I loved and greatly appreciated this about her.

It's a testament to the fact that it is never too late to learn something new, to try.

We’re all trying in one way or another. Maybe to simply put one foot in front of the other or to make amends, get it right, reach out, err on the side of connection, say the funny or helpful thing, post the supportive comment, cook a dinner everyone likes, get the right gift, and do what’s best when it’s often impossible to know what that even is.

It’s a tough and disappointing world we live in. It feels like so many people out there are against kindness, ready to pounce at the slightest misstep. But there are even more of us, I believe, that are good and kind, are ready to help out, and are trying to be the very best version of themselves.

We’re human and we’re a messy, complicated, and awkward lot, but at least the majority of us are trying.

And I love us for it.