Over the weekend, my little baby was sick with a stomach virus.
In between his sickness, I’d hold him and kiss his little head and wish I could take away his illness and transfer it to me.
If stuff like that actually did work, I’d do it a thousand times over for my kids.
At the end of the day, I realize my less than 100% effort does little to advance my goals.
But I showed up anyway.
And so tomorrow I’ll be that much further along towards those goals. Even if it’s just a tiny bit of progress, it’s hard-won no matter what. And a day of minuscule progress is better than surrender.
This is not a prize-winning essay.
You may even think it’s narcissistic to think anyone gives a crap about my checking a box today.
But tomorrow is another day.
Another day of hopefully calmer stomachs.
I still feel so fortunate. I feel fortunate because sickness isn’t an everyday occurrence around here. I feel fortunate because my wife is here to back me up and allow me the rest to recover as quickly as possible. I feel fortunate because that same little one who got me sick squealed with delight when he saw me this afternoon.
Some days won’t be our best.
But if we keep showing up, one day it will be.