I once worked with a man
who had lost his hand
in a fishing accident.
He made do with one.

My Mom made do with one good ear,
which in noisy rooms
was a hard thing to do.
And she made do 
working in a small antiquated kitchen
saved by a window
that looked out to a tree
where the robins gathered in Spring.

Today I worked to make do.
I let go of what I thought best 
and accepted what was,
understanding there would be other days
for what I thought best.

I know making do
does not ring of victory,
but victory is not 
for all things.

Sometimes,
the best we can do
is to make do
as best we can.
It’s just letting go
of our egos.

Thanks for coming tonight.
Love, George