WE TRY. ALL OF US. WE TRY
I was reading this last night, the final paragraph from Richard Ford’s wonderful novel, Canada. Such truth put so simply and without fuss. I hope you enjoy it.
My mother said I would have thousands of mornings to wake up and think about all this, where no none would tell me how to feel. It’s been many thousands now. What I know is, you have a better chance at life – of surviving it – if you tolerate loss well; manage not to be a cynic through it all; to subordinate, as Ruskin implied, to keep proportion, to connect the unequal things into a whole that preserves the good, even if admittedly good is often not simple to find. We try, as my sister said. We try. All of us. We try.
The Vampire's Wife