Reflections on Summer 2013

A little late to post here on my blog, but with the doldrums of winter starting already, I thought I'd post my reflections on Summer 2013 (written in September)...

“Dinner is served!”, Mom proclaimed as she placed a meal of chicken casserole, sweet potatoes and her version of salad on the table.  We all gathered around and I started the conversation off.  “Well, before we get into how everyone’s day was, I have some things I’d like to ask,” I began.  “I need to write my annual piece on how my summer was but instead of MY memories, I want YOUR memories.”  

“Dad,” I continued, “Why don’t you start?  What is one word that you would use to describe your summer?”  My dad pondered for a second, at first a little blankly and then with finger pointing to the air he said, “MAAHH-velous”.  Jake rolled his eyes and said, “Mine was Supercallifragilistic!”.  I surveyed the rest, my Mom said, “Short!” to which Ron exclaimed, “I was going to say LONG – I had the kids all day every day!” and Emma finished us with, “Funtasticalious!”

“Ok everyone, what about your favorite memories from Summer 2013?” I asked a new question.  The answers began pouring in.  “Going to Florida with Ron.  We could golf every day,” Dad said.  Ron answered, “How many times did we actually golf, though?”  Dad laughingly replied, “I said we COULD golf everyday”.  My Dad was really thinking about this and kept going, “We had such a nice time on that trip, good food, good project work, it was cool every day.”  I said, “I notice you didn’t say good company.” To which we all laughed.  

My Mom said her favorite memory was the Cedar Point trip she and my Dad took with the Grandkids and my sister.  Emma said her favorite memory was watching her brother play baseball, and of course riding her bike.  Ron said our Pool Party with all our friends was his best memory and Jake summed it all up with “getting fro-yo at Yo Bubbs!”.

 

By this point, the group was ready for a new question and much to my surprise, ready to participate.  So I asked, “What are you going to miss the most about summer?”  My Mom promptly replied, “Seeing my Grandkids and my Kids, including my kids in law, Ron.”  Emma said she’d miss the long days and sunshine, to which my Dad replied, “Yes that and the heat!”  Ron said he was going to miss shirking his responsibilities and Jake said he would miss swimming the most.

I didn’t share my thoughts and feelings as the interviewer but I will in my final report.  I started the summer with one goal, to enjoy every moment.  I feel like the summer of 2013 brought me the most simple joy that I’ve had in a summer in quite some time.  I slowed down, worked less, paid more attention.  I listened to my kids more and tried to reach out to friends as much as I could.  I went for day trips to visit people we’d been promising to come see for years and made each day count.  The weather was beautiful and each day I was reminded that these are my good old days.

All in all, I think the summer of 2013 was about spending time with family and friends and when we all summed it up over a meal, it felt right, if not a little bittersweet to say goodbye to it for a few cold months.  Now, to make the most of autumn…

The Incidental Writer

     I have proved this year that I am not a very faithful blogger.  I clearly have long gaps between my posts, but it is not because of a lack of desire to be a good and steady blogger.  I think about writing and what I might write all the time, possibly too much.  But the act of writing is often a luxury I don't afford myself.  If only I could have my thoughts recorded instantly like a cartoon bubble that forms above my head.  But alas, that kind of inter-brain technology is likely a few years away.  
     Recently, to prepare for my writer's group, I needed to rely on the pen to paper method and produce an essay.  After all, it is a writer's group and not an "I think about writing" group.  Below is my offering and, in all truth, an example of why I am the Incidental Writer these days.

     I decided today's writing would be fictional. Mind you, not a loosely based fiction about a wearied working mom, either.  Today's writing will not be about my every day life.  I am more than the day to day.  I have stories to tell!  I have ideas to jot!
     "Hey Mom, can I play the computer?," my son chirps loudly.  "Yes, now go, I am writing a story," I answer.  He smiles broadly like he just won a battle and as he's skipping toward the computer I remember why.  "HEY!  WAIT!  Go do your homework first," I remind him. 
     He frowns.  "But Mooooommm, I did my homework," he's protesting this barrier to video gaming loudly.  "Let me see it, " I say as I push my notebook aside.  I check his homework, which is actually done.  He asks for food while I finish looking at the homework so I send him in to wash his hands before getting a snack.  As he does that, he sings everything he says, "I'm washin' my hands...and Mom is wriiitinggg...I.am.gonna.play.Miiiiinnneeecraftttt and then we.will.eat.".  Mind you, this is all at the top of his lungs.  My husband, who has been quietly reading, notices my son's loud singing and tries to offer an intervention by saying louder than my son is singing, "HEY!  MOM IS WRITING!  GIVE HER A BREAK, BUDDY!"
    Enter my daughter, "Mom, I forgot to ask you, can you take me to deliver the orders for my band fundraiser really quickly?  I told them I could come right away." I run my fingers through my hair like Reverend Jim from 'Taxi' or Kramer from 'Seinfeld'.  My husband asks, "How's it going?" and I begin to laugh.  The joke is on me, I guess.  My commitment to write something other than my usual commentary on my little sliver of this world ain't gonna fly today.  I wasn't feeling sorry for myself, I actually think I am really lucky.
     Right before my eyes I have such great characters.  I could write volumes about my daughter, Emma, and her stubborn, silly, smart ways or about my hilarious son, Jake, who although his first year of his life he hardly made a noise, is quite possibly the loudest person I now know.  Or I could write about my husband, Ron, whose one-liners keep me laughing when I might otherwise cry and whose devotion makes me feel secure and loved without measure.  
     I try so hard to think of entertaining fictional stories that don't involve the every day but today, I will breathe in and settle back while the story unfolds with some of the most interesting characters I know.

The Long Way

As I said goodbye in the early morning hours, I had my trip roughly planned out.  I was leaving Boothbay Harbor, Maine at about 3:45 am in early August 1998.  The road was dark and windy.  Driving along coastal Maine is a series of hairpin turns and two way traffic, although considered a highway.  As I left coastal Maine and made my way to the interstate, I had just a few more of these twists and turns before the straight shot toward Boston.  Just as I began to relax and settle in to the drivers’ seat, I turned right and my headlights caught a large, brown object in the road in front of me.  I slammed on my brakes and the giant moose crossed the road.  I was thankful he (or she) didn’t stop and was now fully awake for my drive. 

I was making great time that morning; cruising down through Maine and into Massachusetts.  I decided as I had a fast breakfast at a Highway Oasis that I would take a slight detour in New York.  It was August, after all, and my brother-in-law Mark’s birthday was coming up.  Mark and I have a special relationship.  He and I are good friends; I consider him the brother I never had.  We have always had a good relationship – he is funny and kind, quirky in the very best ways, and we always laugh together thoroughly.  There was a time, early in his marriage to my sister, that I lived with them in Grand Rapids and on more than one occasion, Mark and I ganged up on Lisa in some creative little inside joke.  She’s very good natured about being called “the General” because she would order us both around for cleaning and things like that. 

Because of my love of my brother-in-law, I decided that even though it was a 17 or 18 hour drive, I would take the long way home to Michigan via Cooperstown, NY.  Mark loves baseball, so I decided for his birthday, I would get him a gift from the Baseball Hall of Fame.  I was pretty cocky, too, arriving around at the Cooperstown exit off the expressway at around 11am.  I had no idea that I was a full hour from Cooperstown at that point – this was waaay before GPS had been made mainstream.  I just followed the signs and enjoyed the drive.  And the drive was memorable, that part of New York is just beautiful – rolling hills, farms and green everywhere you look.  The main road into Cooperstown is just as lovely; the downtown looks like something right out of a Norman Rockwell picture.  I arrived at the Hall of Fame feeling really great – although surprised at how far out Cooperstown was from the highway.  I looked around and tried to find something that spoke to me for Mark’s gift. 

As I perused the gift shop I saw this great section of vintage baseball hats.  In that section, I saw a hat that said, “Jersey City Giants”.  I picked it up, put it down and kept moving.  But that hat kept calling to me.  Mark is from New Jersey, and of course, New Jersey does not have a major league team of their own. So I asked the clerk about the hat.  I found out a whole story about the minor league team called the “Jersey City Giants” which was the farm team for the New York Giants in the 30’s to the 50’s.  The hat was so cool and I just knew that Mark would love it.  I had found my piece of Americana for his birthday.

I was feeling pretty great about my day so far; so I headed back out to the expressway thinking I’d still be home pretty early.  I had planned on being home by about 7pm that night.  The New York landscape was just as beautiful on the way back, I even stopped at a Louisville Slugger outlet before heading on to the highway.  I realized when I got back to the main route just how far out of my way I had gone.  I really started to feel it about 7:00 that night when I was still nearly three hours from home.  I had been awake since 3:00 in the morning, drove all by myself and was in the middle of Michigan on my way to Grand Rapids. 

When I finally reached home, I was, quite literally, exhausted.  But I had a great trip, including the side trip to Cooperstown.  That was fifteen years ago, and just the other day, Mark said to me that I have given him some of the most memorable and thoughtful gifts any one in his life has ever gotten him.  He mentioned that hat; and I had to laugh when I said, “Mark, you got the hat – but I got the adventure.”  And I truly meant it – what a great day, a great trip, one I’ll never forget; all in the hopes of finding a good gift.  And fifteen years later, we’re both pretty happy I took the long way.