My grandmother said it all the time: “Make the best of it.”  All the time.

I thought little of it back then, relegating the statement to the equivalent of a throwaway comment, not much more than a head nod or guttural cluck.  Or a tick.

But that was when I was a kid and I didn’t know what I didn’t know.  That life can toss you down and hard on occasion.  That you work to rebound only to feel the swift jab of a steel toe in your shin, pushing you right back down again.

But there are those times, maybe even more often than we think, when we can lie down in the dirt and realize that maybe we’re there for a reason.  Maybe there’s something to gain.  Maybe the steel toe has something to teach and you, down there, have something to learn.  Something you really need to learn.

And maybe, just maybe, you have to make the best of it.  See the good in it.  Maybe since you can’t control it, you take the blow and then look upward.

And in looking upward… trust.

Maybe you need to learn how to trust.

Thank you, nana.  I miss you.