The Lost Summer

I lost a whole summer this year. I cannot account for a single period of time this summer that had anything to do with the season. I watched as other kids went back to school, knowing my kids were going to college and starting later. All of the kids are in college. It makes my head swim, thinking of how fast it all went.
The difference in summers these past few years is astounding to me. The changes everybody has gone through, the metamorphosis of the family, seeing everyone change in a hundred different ways. Two summers ago I was writing my first book. Last summer I was promoting my published book, and this year I was preparing to start my second book. In two years I became a writer. Sometimes I look back and think it is all ridiculous.
My oldest graduated from college, my youngest boy had a life altering experience, my oldest boy made some pretty heavy life choices for himself, deciding who he wanted to be and how he wanted to make that happen, and the youngest, well, she graduated from high school, getting ready to be a freshman all over again, only this time in college.
Mike and I, didn't have time for a vacation, or to go on day trips or do anything even remotely summer like. There was no pool, or beach or camping, hiking, biking or picnics. All summer long we looked for a house, bought a house, sold a house and moved piles of boxes from one place to another. We are currently still in boxes. There is an isle way from one end of the house to the other, with boxes full of sundry stuff on either side we haven't found a home for yet. All I have written about for months is moving. Had I known the realities of how hard this was going to be , I assure you, I would have taken a time out for the nervous breakdown I rightfully deserve. Instead, I have been cautiously optimistic, relaying to the family how wonderful things will be once we truly get settled. I am smart enough to know to keep my mouth shut as to how long that will take.
I had started to do that thing where I regretted this summer. I was feeling bad about not having a summer with any fun in it. This summer was all about the work, fun would have to wait. I am and always will be the brick house little pig. I stopped myself, and Michael stopped me too, from berating myself for not being able to pull a rabbit out of this particular hat. "Baby, there is no way we could have done anything better, or even different than what we did", Michael gently reminded me. "Yeah, I know, I just wish I had more time or more hands, or something that might have made this better", I sighed wistfully. Michael looked at me, holding my face in his hands, "Look, we all did the best we could. That has to be enough."
Yes, we did the best we could with all of our unforeseen circumstances and it really does have to be enough. If I have any regrets, they are wasting time regretting things.
This will remain the Rip Van Moving summer, the lost summer, where bad things, amazing things, and miraculous things have happened. It will be the summer of growth, change and maturity for all of us. It wasn't the worst summer we have ever had, although I will tell you it is in the top 10 list, but it was hardly a summer full of joyous memories either.
We all like the new house. The kids call it cozy. No one misses the old house, which I find very odd. As cramped as we are right now, not one person in our family wishes we were more spread apart. I am fascinated that we aren't mourning the space, the pool and the finished house more, but we aren't, so I let it be what it is and isn't.
The kids rooms were finished first since they all have to start college classes soon. Michael has a clean space in the master bedroom to try and help him sleep less fitfully, without boxes staring him in the face all the time. And me, well, I am getting my kitchen sort of together so that I can cook my way out of my stress. It is my go to move, baking, frying and simmering my burdens into delectable concoctions my family will devour. My oven is half the size I need, the stove only has two burners that work and the cupboards belong in Barbie's dream house rather than my kitchen, but I have made entire dinners and even baked a pie.
It is the end of the lost summer. I look forward to pulling my dead bodies out of the attic, getting ready for Halloween. This is going to be a great house for holidays. I just feel it in my blood soaked bag of bones.