My car has horrible blind spots. On
numerous occasions I have found myself pulling at the steering wheel and
swerving in order to avoid the car next to me while changing lanes. If
there were a herd of llamas in the lane next to me I fear that I would
eliminate the entire herd unless I avoided them by looking over my
shoulder to check my blind spot. For the record, I have never encountered
a herd of llamas on the freeway but it is county fair season so it isn't
completely out of the question.
As I look over my shoulder in
reflection of the last few months of summer and the plans that I had with
family, outdoor dining with friends, spontaneous trips to the beach, and pool
time, I find blind spots. I have gone to the beach once, made floppy excuses
for not inviting over friends, spent a smattering of time with the kids due to
athletic schedules and full time work, and had more frequent trips to Target
and Sprouts instead of the pool . Blind spot. A week-long vacation was replaced
with a day off here and there which was mostly filled with home chores instead
of getting out with kids to explore. Blind spot.
When the kids were younger, the
exhaustion from summer and constantly planning day trips and outdoor activities
had me anticipating the smell of sharpened pencils and plastic from new lunch
boxes. I was ready for back-to-school, and rest, for my sweaty summer bones.
The days were full, summer was fun and long, and memories were captured.
This summer I have regrets as I
look back at my blind spots. The summer doesn’t feel full, and back-to-school
sounds too soon and connotes guilt. Work was an excuse for more than normal
video game time for the kids and isolation away from family was more normal
than usual as I sought solace with a book and recliner chair instead. Blind
spot. Date nights were last minute if the house grew empty and conversations
over budget and goals was replaced with catching up on Netflix. Blind Spot.
August is here. School will be back
soon and routine will begin again. Summer is ending and I have almost nothing
to show for its existence. No photos, no captured memories, no thoughts
journaled in a relaxed state of mind, nothing except blind spots.
Next summer I will plan. Plan fun
and memories, and rest. I will plan time away from home and better use of
vacation days. I will plan for car mats splattered with sand, and wet towels
littering the hooks near the pool. Next summer, I will look over my shoulder
and check more often for blind spots.
Comments