Groceries and Glimpses

At the high school where I teach, the Seniors’ school year ends almost two full weeks before the rest of the students. One evening during those final weeks, I popped over to my local grocery store for a “need-three-items” trip. The late afternoon heat felt like the first glimpse of summer. As I walked in, I noticed a familiar student pulling into the parking lot. As I left she was walking out with one item…a bundle of firewood. As I passed by I could see flip flops on her feet, shorts and tank top covering a bathing suit, and her wet hair pulled up into a messy bun. She threw the firewood in her car, re-positioned her keys and lanyard in her hand, and that was it. A short series of seconds at most... a brief moment. But my mind remained with her as I began my drive home.

Everything about her screamed summer night. Those few seconds evoked all the scenes now playing through my mind like a movie….

the group text to plan the hang out at whoever’s house had the pool

the long, slow day spent laying out and then jumping in

the sweet and salty snacks, the drinks sweating in the sun

the teasing, the random water competitions, the comfortable lulls in conversation

the chosen playlist of music, the laughter, the splashes

the easy decision to extend the time around a bonfire that night

the process of picking a time, dividing up tasks, choosing carpools

the only separation being the minutes at home changing before jumping back in the car

the comfy clothes, the crackling of logs, the theories on what makes the best s’more

It was all so vivid.

That tiny intersection of lives completely interrupted my routine and rhythm. It took a second for me to piece together that while the rest of the school was still in “approaching summer” mode, the Seniors had already arrived. On a post-work grocery run, I relished the first and fleeting sensation of summer rolling through my open window. But one glimpse of her drew me back to the days spent soaking up that heat in an all-encompassing, limitless way.

Those were special days.

Life keeps us moving. Somehow, some way we are always progressing, changing, and shifting into what is next. We are always approaching the next phase and whatever seems to define it: school, career, relationships, family…

But the feeling as though you have “arrived” is just about as hard to come by as the elusive “balanced” life. Just today I went to sit at the pool with the two friends and on the way out we decided to change out of our suits. One of my friends commented about how we were officially those ladies… the ones as a kid you could not help but notice were fully changing in the locker room you simply flip-flopped through. We all laughed. It felt entirely true and still somewhat hysterical.

I still find myself laughing at the descriptions that accurately describe my current phase of life.

Late-twenties. Tenured. Married.

But it is not just this stage of life. I turn around and see an entire trail of snapshots behind me capturing moments where I found myself humored, bewildered, yet always marveling at the label I surprisingly found myself living. Amidst all the changes, that perception has remained consistent.

And it is not just me.

My friends in the “next” phases are still describing the same sentiment.

I wonder why no one ever tells you that that is normal? Why do people not warn you that it is an inescapable feeling? Why do we not hear more about how it travels with you throughout every phase?

But I am also starting to wonder if it always has been tucked away in the dialogue of our elders. Maybe they have been saying it all along. Maybe I just did not have the ears to hear it when I was younger.

Those moments used to intimidate me. I thought something must be wrong if I did not feel an encompassing sense of “arrival”. But now it is starting to feel like a comfortable companion.

It is all true:

I am a tenured teacher.

I am a wife.

I am twenty-seven years old.

But sometimes I still feel like that girl with wet hair grabbing firewood for a summer night with her friends.

And that is okay.

She reminds me to drink it in. To let it seep deep inside. To soak it all up. To dive in and be fully present.

Because someday she will be the one grabbing groceries after work and it will hit her too.

And that is okay.

#time #growing