Sometimes, You Have to Make the Best of It

Whenever I look at this picture, I can’t help but laugh to myself. My mom, my sister, and I were on a trip to Ireland.

(This was in October 2022, and I didn’t know it at the time, but multiple sclerosis was hiding out in my body, asleep and ready to show its face only a few months later. For now, though, I was blissfully unaware and enjoying my trip).

It was the first time I’d been to Ireland, and I was buzzing with energy from being in the country where half of my family had called home in the not-so-distant past. The flight into Shannon was beautiful and green, Galway was quaint and welcoming. The Guinness really did taste better, and the first night we were there, musicians gathered in the pub and played music. I loved it.

On this day, the day this picture was taken, we took a bus tour that stopped at a castle, underground caves, and the Buren, and drove along the Wild Atlantic Way. The Buren was breathtaking, otherworldly – it felt like traversing a far-flung planet.

Another one of the stops on this tour was the Cliffs of Moher, arguably the tour’s main attraction. I bet you’re familiar with Cliffs of Moher, even if you’ve never heard of them – if you’ve seen Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (the sixth movie), you’ve seen the Cliffs of Moher. They are massive cliffs on Ireland’s west coast, the tallest of which is over 700 feet.

The three of us were excited to see the Cliffs in person, but as the bus got closer to the visitor center, it was clear we would not be seeing them. The fog was rolling in, and it was a soupy, misty gray that blurred out the landscape the higher we climbed. When we pulled into the parking lot, a miserable sideways rain was falling – the kind of rain where no amount of coverage would do anything to keep you dry. We hustled into the visitors center and did some shopping, because it was the only thing we could do. But I was determined – I wanted to see those Cliffs, even if it was only a faint outline through the fog.

We walked to the lookout point and within seconds we were drenched. Completely and utterly soaked. Gray in all directions. But in the distance, I could just make out the Cliffs (or was I imagining it? It’s totally possible I was just willing myself to see them). It wasn’t the awe-inspiring view I’d hoped for, but at least I could say I was there.

When I turned to walk back to the bus, I started laughing. This situation was suddenly hilarious to me – I’ve been sitting on a bus all day, hoping to see this one site, and it was just about as gloomy and depressing outside as you could imagine. I said to my mom: take a picture of me, I want to remember this moment! And here is that moment.

When we got back on the bus, everyone was wet. Puddles were forming on the floor. We sloshed our way into the pub for lunch and all took turns sitting by the fire to dry out. My Guinness was perfect.

Sometimes, you have to make the best of it. Yes, of course, I wish I saw the Cliffs of Moher that day, and in that moment, I wished I wasn’t freezing and soaking wet. Just my luck that the weather did not cooperate, and my water-resistant pants and jacket (that I bought specifically for this trip!!) did not do anything to prevent the onslaught of rain. But I think back to that moment and all I think about is how comical it was, how head-shakingly perfect.

Being sour about a situation doesn’t change the circumstances, it just changes your perception of it in the moment. You can’t change what is happening around you, but you can change how you see it.

Sure, you’re allowed to be pissed off, disappointed, frustrated, or let down. When it comes to living with MS, I feel all of those things, all the time – how could I not?

But you can also find that small part of a situation that’s funny, or silly, or dumb, or part of it that makes you feel gratitude. Sometimes, you have to make the best of it.