Connor at Ocean Ave beach in Carmel, CA on April 16, 2013, Matt’s 43rd birthday.

A few months ago, before our Christmas trip to the Philippines, my kids were nervous about traveling to a foreign country. Would they like the food? Would they understand anybody? Would anybody even like them? To which I answered all in the negative, just to give them a hard time. I knew they would be fine. A huge clan of extended family, to which I am very close, were counting down the days to finally meet my children.

On the way to school one day, I asked Connor what his biggest fear was about going to the Philippines. He said, “I may not get wi-fi.” Fair enough. Mine also.

Then I asked him what has been his biggest challenge to date.

“Prepping then going on the 30-miler last summer.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“What do you mean, ‘That’s it?’ It was hard!”

On the last evening of the 30-miler, his dad died of a heart attack as he hiked to meet the troop. Connor was roused out of sleeping bag at 1:30 am and driven home, not ever seeing his dad on the mountain and not even knowing that his dad was there. Matt, with containers full of homemade chocolate chip cookies and raspberry bars in his backpack, along with his two counselors, were going to surprise the troop. Anyway, I totally disagreed that the prep and the hike were THE hardest thing he’s done. And I said so.

“Umm…I disagree. You are totally wrong.”

“What?! You are always telling me to tell you what I’m thinking and not what I think you want me to say!”

“Yeah, I know. But you are still totally wrong.”

Silence in the car. Then he started laughing. We have these strange conversations that teeter between incredulity and hilarity, especially when we can keep a straight face. I started laughing, too, but became serious.

I explained to him that, yes, the 30-miler was hard. But getting up every morning after his dad died was even harder, perhaps harder than anything he will ever have to face for the rest of his life. There is a big difference, I went on, between enduring a trial and enduring a trial well. There is also the unfortunate option, of course, of getting crushed by your trial, but let’s get back to endure vs. endure well. From what I can see, he is doing this well. 

“Right after Dad died, you got up every morning and checked in on me and monitored my food intake. School started and you pulled straight A’s…like over 100% kindof A’s, not the lame 90-something percent kind. (Arrogant laughter). You were a good, generous friend. You had tons of fun even though we were all pretty sad. You babysat the kids (his siblings) without complaining. And you continued to get out of bed every morning, 9 times out of 10 with a smile on your face.

“You will face lots of hard things ahead. The thing is, young as you are, you already know what you are made of. You already know that you have what it takes to respond well and endure well and to get through whatever challenge you face. With every test, every hike, every date, every investigator, every job interview…you already know what you are made of. And you are only 13! If you live to be 90…that’s a lot of years of using that knowledge. Some people find this out way later or sometimes not ever. Look…this most definitely is not the way you would’ve wanted to know that about yourself, but you do, and that’s pretty cool, eh?”

(Sincere smile) “Yeah, that is pretty cool. Thanks, Mom.”

Then, of course, I cried all the way home. Because that, too, is what we are made of.