Deep Summer

Here it is vacation, and I am having the hardest time today just trying to SLOW DOWN and do NOTHING.

We have been moving through summer, so far, at such a breakneck speed. And it seems like today, on one of our few days where we are "just home," I keep finding myself jumping up, thinking I ought to do something. I am looking around for Devin, even though I know he is off at the Renaissance Faire with his buddy. I am jumpy, pit of the stomach worried that there is something I am forgetting and there just is not. Probably a lot of this stress is the after effect of a full work week last week. Whatever is causing it, I need to get a grip. I need to say a mantra. I need to remind myself that we're all caught up.

All is done, all is well.

We've arrived at August. The dog days of summer as some might say. For us it is our anniversary month. Our time.

Deep summer. Yes. I prefer to think about it that way.

Around this time people start moving towards back to school, but around this time I usually feel like we are just hitting our summer stride. This year in particular. We've had a lot go on so far, but there is still much ahead. As we head into our family trip to Rhode Island and Connecticut next week, I want an agenda but I want it fluid. I want a list of places to go and things to do, but I want to progress through it organically, doing what strikes us along the way, perhaps not checking everything off and leaving ourselves wanting more in the form of a return trip at another time. I want to see the sights, feel the vibe, taste the ocean, in its natural form, and processed on a lobster roll.

I want to book our necessarily postponed anniversary trip, but only the hotel, again allowing us to explore the possibilities of our destination once we get there.

I want to savor the journey.
I want to drink in some summer sunshine.

It is certain that Fall will come in its flurry of busyness, but for now, I want to slow it down.

Welcome, my dear friend.
Welcome, deep summer.

Beautiful Day

So I just got back from some grief shopping and realize that I now have a couple of shirts I will always associate with my grandfather's death. Just some shirts.

Things.

But things are weird that way aren't they? Inconsequential, not even connected at all, but things I harken to guess I will always connect, nonetheless.

Today was weird. Mom called around nine to let me know grandpa was gone. And it wasn't unexpected. He was 89, and had been ill. Still, it took a while to sink in. We had some other plans for the week to come, which had to be changed, and we needed some groceries as well, so I headed out. I was needing a little pick me up, so I figured I'd do some preshopping before the groceries. I got the afore mentioned shirts, at Maurice's of all places, and then headed to TJMaxx to further the buzz. That is where the grief hit, though.

I had forgone the cart, but had several items in my hand. It was just some clearance stuff that I wanted to try on. As I roamed the store somewhat aimlessly, I started to key in to the song playing over the loud speakers...U2..."Beautiful Day." Quite frankly, stores ought to think about what they are pumping into consumers ears..."What you don't have you don't need it now...don't need it now...don't need it now..." Needless to say, I put those items down, right where I was, and headed towards the front of the store. A rainy day had turned to some sketchy sun, and "It's a beautiful day...don't let it get away..." played me through the automatic doors.

I carried on to the grocery store, where it seemed EVERY little old man in Oswego was shopping, or being shopped around by his loved ones. I smiled my way through my glossy eyes, bought goodness knows what, and made my way home.

Things.

It is an odd summer...it has been an odd 6 months. While we are in the midst of celebrating some big highs right now, they have been juxtaposed by some signifigant lows. Still, 20 years ago, this summer, I married my partner in life. 16 years ago, we bought the home we live in now. That summer I did not have a dining room table. I had a particle board table, with screw on aluminum legs. They were a little bit stripped, having been my parents' early marriage kitchen table...or as the case may be, MY former kitchen table.

That summer, having moved to a smaller apartment attached to my aunt and uncle's home, my grandpa brought me my grandma's dining room table and chairs. They were something I needed then, desperately. I have toyed, over the last 15 or so years, whether to refinish and re-glue, or replace, and just earlier this summer had finally made the call. Mom and Dad had even said that if I would like it, they would like to give us the refinishing of that table as a gift for our 20th anniversary. Strangely enough, Grandpa's passing makes it even more appropriate. I will have the table and chairs refinished, and re-glued, to remember grandma by, and now him by, and in some way, my parents by.

So I guess U2 had it right.
What I don't have, I don't need now.
I need nothing new.
I have a beautiful dining room set that, when given a little tender loving care, will mark a number of moments in our FAMILY life.
The life that, no matter what is thrown at it, is so very full of everything we need.

Truly, every day IS a Beautiful Day.

Baby You're a Firework...

Another Fourth of July has come and gone, and another party goes down in the annals of history. Today was a hot July day, with no rain so far. We have been sleeping in, napping, snacking, and slowly cleaning up from a fun time with friends last night, well into the night. I also took some time to upload the pictures from the party on to the computer, which led, naturally, to that dangerous time suck of looking back. We recently got a new iMac, so the big beautiful screen has beckoned a lot this summer, and I have enjoyed taking vivid trips down memory lane, while realizing that my older eyes get a little bit tired of screen light, sometimes. And my older heart misses flipping through photos, in a book, or in a box, while curled up on the couch.

Mark my words that this summer we will rectify some of that.

On further examination, I realized we have been having a party, of some sort, on the night of the Fair Haven fireworks for several years, and I believe next year will be the somewhat, but not quite official, 10th year. Things have changed over the years, things have stayed the same. Along the lines of similarities, I can certainly say that I have panicked annually about whether I remembered to invite people, being that invites need to happen at the end of the school year and that time of year, no matter the year, is a certain level of crazy. Then I have worried about myriad "things;" whether the house was ready, whether the lawn was ready, how the weather would be, how the bugs would be, what food we should have, what drinks we should have, whether we had shirts that had the correct year for photographic integrity, etc. Still, somehow, low and behold, each and every year, regardless of what is running on my worry reel, everything works out just fine. And once the evening is in full swing, I find myself with the same overwhelming feeling of joy, surrounded by love, and feeling like summer has truly begun.

And I find that, even though I rolled my eyes at my daughter sporting her 2012 shirt in 2013, her crafty self had fixed the problem already, with some paper, marker, and tape. Again with the theme that tape can fix anything. Hmmm, universe, are ya sending me a sign?

So, when it comes down to it, today was truly an R&R day; rest and recovery. We even squeezed in dinner on the "bathtub of a boat," and a little swim in the bay. While we were out there, I floated off by myself for a bit, and at that time, in the quiet, calm, post holiday Sunday night water, said my "prayers" for the evening. Don't worry, I haven't gone all "Goddy," on ya, but I have been reading and re-reading a lot of Anne Lamott lately. I feel like, at 42, I have kind of adopted her "Help,Thanks,Wow" mantra as my grown up "Are you there, God? It's me, Margaret." I have been practicing gratitude nightly by thinking back on the day; what I need help with, what I am thankful for, and what made me say, "Wow!" Last night in bed, at 2:30 am actually, it was easy, and today, floating in that bay, it was equally crystal clear.

Help me let go of needless worry.
Thank You for my simple, beautiful life.
And no matter how old I get, fireworks will always make me say WOW!

End of June, SURPRISE!

HOLY MOLY! It has come to the point where I HAVE to write. Tonight. It is the last day in June, and it must be done. Thing is, the last night in June really snuck up on me. I mean, it was just a week ago that we were a mere day out of school, but tonight, right now, school feels a million miles away. We've even had our first fun of summer, with Devin spending time at Camp Geena and Pa, Gwynn going to an amazing music camp at Ithaca College, and Tim and myself having a rather nice "Staycation" to begin the Summer of our 20th Anniversary. It feels like we've already had a summer, yet summer has only just begun. And those that know me well would also know that the Carpenters song is now playing in my head..."We've only just begun...to live..." Ain't it the truth! Summer...the time that we just. plain. live. So, no guilt. No timelines. No deadlines. Writing wise, for this month at least, this is it. This is all ya get. All I am going to do now is sit back, relax, watch a movie with my family, have some popcorn, and perhaps a beer. I'm gonna stay up too late, and finish yet another book. Maybe I'll even shop online. I'll probably fool around on Facebook, or maybe I will just fool around. Point is that it doesn't really matter one way or another, it is summer, and we have only just begun.

Superglued

They Superglued the sofa. I just laughed out loud again, hearing that. They SUPERGLUED the sofa. And at first I was quite upset, trying to think of how to have it fixed. It's a fairly new sofa after all. There was the threatening that they would be paying for it, the ranting that we apparently can't have anything new, can't keep anything nice. But as I have lived with it for another couple of days, I kind of want to keep it. I kind of like it. It is almost like a family artifact, evidence showing the beginnings of their beginning as a brother/sister team.

How did this happen you might ask? Well, I came home from work on a Thursday thoroughly exhausted after a full day of scoring state tests, and then a full afternoon/evening of meetings for our union contract negotiations. I was in a good mood, as all had gone well, but nonetheless I was tired. Tim had an afterschool doctor's appointment, so he had only been home with the kids for a couple of hours. Yes, there had been a gap of about an hour when the kids were home alone. Dev is 15, Gwynn 12. This is not a problem, it is simply a statement of the situation. After I got home, we all reconnected, then the fun of a typical schoolyear evening began. There were homework arguments to be had, there was dinner to be cleaned up. Lunches needed to be made, showers and next day preperations had to be taken care of. Finally, I sat down with Tim, on the couch, to watch some TV together, and I felt something hard on the cushion. I examined a bit closer to discover a certain tear, another probable hole, and tell tale dog hair.

Devin took the brunt of it at first, since I discovered it after Gwynn was already in bed. He admitted to letting the dog on the sofa, and admitted to the ingenious idea of Superglueing. Still, in all of my ranting, and questioning, he never once mentioned his sister. In fact it wasn't until a couple of days later that she and I were in the living room and I asked her about it. She had full knowledge of what happened, and admitted to being a part of it.

I guess that is what makes me, almost, like the Superglued spot. What makes me choose to switch the center cushion for the one on the end. What makes me flip it over and tuck it in place. They really do love each other, or at least have a bond enough to not throw each other under the bus. Or, perhaps they both just think I am truly as exhaustedly clueless as I truly am, and I really won't notice a surprising number of things. Either way, a friend recently asked what the going rate for a sitter is. I suppose I have a clearer answer, now. I'd say it is somewhere between $5 and $10 dollars an hours, or whatever it costs to reupholster a sofa cushion. You make the choice.

Flip Flops

Wednesday
The month is nearing a close, and to fulfill my promise to myself, to write two times a month, I am cutting it close. Thing is, though, it is another negative one. Grrrrr. And I am not usually that way, but all I want to do on here right now is gripe, and groan, and complain, and lament how ANNOYING life is right now. I suppose if I were to look back at old blogs, and even old journals and diaries of my youth, it should be no surprise that this time of year is stressful for me. Endings, again, are something that, at a visceral level, I see as a bad thing, and a big ending, the end of school,draws near. You know how they say that even good change causes stress in your life? The end of the school year is like that for me. Yeah, I am excited about it, but it is a lot of work, in a short amount of time, and it is all the work of finishing; not my strong suit. It is also an end for both my kids, and there are finals, and there are projects. Finally, I suppose, there is the fact that, right before my eyes, these two children of mine will age, again. It feels like we just had birthday month, and I just got used to them being another chronological year older. The school year ending now makes them another school year older, and in some ways, I just don't like it. Or at least, it will take some getting used to. Maybe I would be better with year round school. ACK! Did I just SAY that? What is WRONG with me?

Thursday
Well, today I have spent the day home, with a sick kid, yet again. And along with a doctor's appointment, I have also been somewhat deep in thought. And have done a lot of reading. "Self-helpy" kind of reading. Not the reading I usually do. Still, interestingly enough, it seems to have helped. And after a low from yesterday, I am finding a way up and out, or maybe more so, through. The only way out, after all, IS through, and no matter what life has in store I will make my way through. Hmmm, guess I ought to break out the self help books more often. Don't tell Tim or he'll use it against me. "Do you have your period?" will become, "Why don't you go read your self help books?" Either will get him no where.

Friday
OK, it is May 31st and I have to do it. I have to complete this blog. It's time to publish. It sorta seems to have some coherence. And in order to maintain my tentative mental balance that I worked so hard to maintain on Thursday, I have to keep my promise to me. But again, not so much the finisher. And you know, let us note again that it is also the end of the year, and I have nothing left. Nothing. So we have flip flopped that is for sure...from despair, to acceptance, and now to flippant rants. But there it is, there ya go, there's a second blog for May. I did it. Are ya happy? I am. I'm finished.

Goodbye, Bill

Life has been kind of up and down these days. Death has been a bit prevalent, and I have to say, I'm just not a fan. I am not good at saying goodbye. Never have been, never will be. There have been other endings recently as well, and other goodbyes, and I think I have mentioned before that I am a starter, not a finisher. This applies to work, and to projects, and to things like unloading the dishwasher which I should be doing right now. Love the beginnings, hate the ends.

The most recent death I have been coming to terms with is that of a high school friend's father. Seems kind of fringe, on the outside, and perhaps something that shouldn't affect me as much as something in my own family, but strangely enough that is not so. Of course there is more to the story. There always is. This friend wasn't just a friend, but a close high school friend. Her father wasn't just her father, but was also my pastor during my high school and college years. This man wasn't just my pastor, but a family friend. And he wasn't just a family friend, but was also the man who married Tim and myself. In a way, he is responsible for the life I lead. His consecration of our love led to the life Tim and I have created together, the life we feel so blessed to live. Yeah, it has been a bit to take in. But still, there is more.

Facebook is a funny thing sometimes. I have been on it since 2008. It started as a page I put up, along with my husband, after his 20th high school reunion. People proposed it as a way to stay in touch, and we set up a page together. I soon kicked him off my page realizing what fun it was to connect with people from my own present and my past. I connected with my high school friend's father/my former pastor, Bill, and formed yet a new bond, Facebook friend.

As my experience grew with Facebook, I found it to be a place to share some of my writing with others. I started to post my blogs to Facebook. Bill had long since moved South, following the retirement parade to places closer to his own children, and of course, grandchildren. I hadn't had a chance to see him in a while, to experience his hearty laugh, or be on the receiving end of one of his powerful hugs. Still, Bill became one of my biggest online fans, always "liking" my posts, often commenting on them. And his words meant the world to me. At times his, "Yep, I've been there," confirmed that I wasn't alone. I might have had a post that ranted a bit about the typical frustrations of life, marriage, children, and through the words of my pastor/friend, I found peace yet again. I know that what I write, in essence, addresses the universality of the human condition, and Bill's comments reinforced that I hit my mark. At times his writerly compliment made me proud. He was a man of words, a man that stood, weekly, in a pulpit, expressing his beliefs and ideas. He was a fellow writer, and he found my writing to be good enough. He took the time to compliment, he took the time to say "Yes, you're a writer."

This past week, his family began the long process of saying goodbye. I will have my opportunity soon, to formally do so. And all around me I keep being reminded of endings. Even driving into the city of Oswego this weekend, seeing the graduation flags flying and the U-Hauls hauling, I am reminded again that goodbyes are just part of life. And yes, I suppose in some ways, endings are new beginnings as well. Still, I don't like them, and I don't think I ever will. But today I will say goodbye here. Goodbye Bill, and Godspeed, and for so many things, Thank You, from the bottom of my heart.