Am I worthless? Is my life worthless? I lost my dad. There’s a pandemic. I hate school. I hate my schedule. I hate almost everything. I can’t find joy.

These are the words my 10 year old uttered to me last night when he got home from an hour long commute after his very long baseball practice. We were lying in his bed. I could tell he was upset. He doesn’t generally want to talk but last night I couldn’t leave him alone. There were tears in his eyes. I knew he needed to get something out. I just couldn’t believe my ears when he let it out. At first, all I could do was cry with him. Heaving sobs. How can my son, my handsome, funny, intelligent, witty, caring, loving, talented son think his life is worthless? Does he even know what that means? Based on the follow up questions, I’m not sure he does.

I think he feels lost. I think he feels out of control. I think he feels like the rest of us do, only those are really big feelings for a 10 year old boy to navigate. Hell, they’re really big feelings for me to navigate and I’m supposed to be the adult here. I should have my shit together. (I don’t, in case you haven’t noticed).

I can’t say I have been the best mother in the world since losing my husband. But I really can’t say I’ve ever been the best mother in the world period. I will say I try really hard. I give it my best but sometimes even my best isn’t all that great. I have days where I’m fully engaged, laughing, playing and enjoying *mostly* every minute. And I have days where dragging myself out of bed and even attempting to get breakfast on the table seems like a most daunting task. I struggle with my own happiness. I struggle with the depth of my loneliness. I struggle with most everything. And on top of the struggles, I am needed by 2 young boys who deserve nothing but my best. And last night, like a sucker punch to the gut, I was shocked by what my son was saying.

How can someone I find so perfectly imperfect think he is worthless? It’s because of this world we are living in. Nothing is normal. On top of the fact, 10 short months ago, his father died. In our home. With so much life left to live. My son hasn’t seen a normal (normal for us) routine in years. He’s been passed around family members while my husband went for treatments and procedures and endless doctor’s appointments hours away. Then his father passed away so he had to adjust to life without a dad. Then some fucker ate a damn bat and shut the whole damn world down (please don’t correct my incorrectness here, I’m certain there’s more to it than that but I could really careless.). He hasn’t been to school since March. We don’t go out to eat. We don’t go to the movies. We don’t go shopping. We don’t go watch live sporting events. We don’t go to concerts. We don’t go see all our friends. We are living in this abnormal bubble that we have no control over.

For school now, he sits in front of a computer from 7:50 am until noon. In between and after that, he’s completing assignments that he may or may not wholly understand. He’s asking me questions for which I don’t have answers because I completed 5th grade some time ago and apparently don’t remember shit about it. He then has lunch, at home, with his brother and me, followed by some outside time where he rides bikes and scooters and acts like a 10 year old boy. Sometimes he’ll see a friend or 2 but mostly it’s just his little brother and me. He then has baseball about 6 days a week, which he loves and loathes all at the same time. He loves his teams, his coaches, the camaraderie and the actual playing. He doesn’t love all the late nights and the travel, which I understand is kind of silly seeing as how it’s a “travel” baseball team. But when you’re 10, I don’t think you fully grasp what all of that entails. He gets it now. And he’s exhausted.

I told him last night all the things about him that are amazing. I told him how much I love him. I told him how proud I am of him, how this life has not been fair, how this life will never be fair. I told him that it is up to us to make it great. We can choose how we live it. We can choose how we respond to adversity. We can choose our attitude. And all of this is true, but does it make sense to a child? Probably not.

I think we’re all doing the best we can. I think our best is sometimes lackluster. I also think we can love each other through it and come out better for it. Hug your babies. Tell them how much you love them, how proud you are of them. They have got some big feelings racing through them at all times. Let them know it’s ok. Let them know life sucks sometimes. Let them know it won’t always be this way. And let yourself know that, too.