The thing about life is that it gets.... busy.
Mr. Chewey passed on. Carpet was ripped out, hardwood floors were put down. I spun off to NYC for a weekend with the girls, and school let out. Spring came along with a LOT of rain, and skipped into Summer and a LOT of humidity. There's been off season wrestling training camp four nights a week, drop offs and pick ups at the gym, binge watching, and unsupervised parties on the beach, Oldest had his first dinner date and his now first girlfriend. There was a canoe trip on the river, I slept in my first tent, and Oldest is already back to work for the summer, and itching for his driver's license. It's been a virtual tornado of life moving on around here.
For two years I have been the Committee Chair for Youngest's Boy Scout Troop. On Monday I passed the torch on. And while I am still moderately involved, I have never slept better knowing that it no longer all falls to me.
For the last 18 months I have helped plan a wedding for a friend. I am a very detailed person, and as we all know, weddings are about the details.... those tiny details that you only remember looking back in the photographs after the love coma has worm off. Apparently, I was the only one who saw these details when the day finally came last Saturday, as evidenced by my last minute moving of tables and my wielding of decorative ribbons to tie everything together. Even the bug spray was wrapped in bows. The bride is still blissfully happy about how everything turned out, and I am just happy it's over. The bride and her groom will soon be back to fighting about everything they were mad about last week, but no one will be talking about the tables covered in caterpillar poop (thanks to me), and I will not be tying any more favor tagged bows on sparklers. As that too came to an abrupt end this past weekend.
There is something tremendously freeing about letting go of things. While I was MIA convincing the bride that she really did want to get married a second time, the husband was busy being me. Driving this one, picking up that one, answering the random texts for shredded cheese, and the never ending "What's for dinner?" plea. The three of them worked together to make sure that everything got done... without me... and that's okay.
Today I as I drove Youngest to wrestling camp I thought of how in just 22 days I'll be putting him on a bus to West Virginia along with thousands of other Scouts to build a city in the mountains, at only 15 years old. I came home to the husband painting the house, Oldest washing the car... his car... which despite it's lack of an aux cord connection, is a huge step towards his independence. Still lacking his license, I drove him to the girlfriend's house while youngest stayed home, sparks flying all around him as he ground down a part for the car that in roughly 15 months he will share with his brother. I came home to find him MIG welding the legs back onto the picnic table. He only melted a few holes in his shirt, because while he may be decked out in dense, heavy, leather gloves and the finest of welding masks, he often still forgets the tiny details, like polyester is highly flammable.
Life moves pretty fast. The days are already getting shorter. I think often about sitting here, documenting it all for prosperity, but somehow my fingers never make it to the key board. I'm too busy, too tired, from living it to reflect on it.
And now, suddenly I find myself standing in the aftermath of the storm, the winds died off, and there's a quiet peacefulness... finally. My schedule is clear from now to mid August. No projects to start, no events to plan, no reasons to hurry out of work.
It's just quiet.
Nothing to do but watch from my Adirondack chair, the people I've supported for years, carry on around me by themselves, doing things far more impressive than I could have ever hoped. And maybe, after a good long nap in that chair, I'll drag out the new lap top and finally get around to document it all.