Summertime

It is the beginning of June as I draft this humble blog. Summer is here. Well, almost here.

My semester ended in early May. But the residual drip of meetings and work is finally starting to dry up. I cannot tell you how much I need a break from being a college professor. This was a hard year. A new job. A new place. New people. Too much newness. Made my blood pressure go crazy. The rest of me too.

My children finish school this week. They have two days left. Well, one-and-a-half. Tuesday is an early release day. A family picnic at school. Katie and I will go. Sit off to the side. That’s what we usually do at these things.

The school year is almost over. Thank God.

***

I can’t say it was a bad year. Just a hard year.

I think the boys are settling in. They’ve made new friends. They’ve come to like their teachers. They are looking forward to going back to school next year. They are huge now. Solomon is 9 and Samson turns 8 in a few months. Time flies. They aren’t little kids anymore.

I think I’m settling in. I’ve made new friends. I’ve come to like my students. I’m looking forward to going back to school next year. I’m old now. I turn 43 next week. Time flies. I’m not a young man anymore.

I think Katie is settling in. Acclimating to Iowa City. I won’t speak for her beyond that. Husbands who speak for their wives creep me out.

No, not a bad year. Just a hard year. It was one thing to move across country in my early thirties. Still another in my early forties. With two children who are almost not children. I feel good about this new life I’m settling into in Iowa City. But I’m also desperate for some time to shut down. Turn off. I won’t get as much of that as I want this summer. But I’ll get some.

***

My summer schedule is already filling up. I’d hope to make some lazy trips home to the Twin Cities this summer. And I will. But there’s always too many people to see. And there’s too much to do here, as well.

I’ve agreed to lead a few improv workshops on campus this summer. I’m going to work with the solidarity committee in my college. We have two family trips planned. The boys have summer camps. And my body is in desperate need of solitude. Recovery and recuperation. It’s remarkable how calendars have a way of filling up. And energy is more finite than it used to be. 43 year-old Sam doesn’t have the same chutzpah as 23 year-old Sam. The same other things, too.

All of this is a rumination on summer. The only conclusion that can be drawn? Thank God it is summer. Despite the humid and stifling midwestern heat.