I've been lucky enough to have both my kids and their partners home for chunks of summertime. Besides a visit to N. Carolina to see them, I've had more time with them than I have for a few years. Summer has gone too fast, but it's been one of the best ever.
As I write this, my son is at the kitchen table, with his buddy. They are planning a cross-country trip that goes from Minnesota to the desserts in the southwest, up the West Coast through L.A. and San Fransciso, all the way to Alaska, where his buddy's parents live. My son is not teaching this year--burned out--and needs this, especially if he can sell his motorcycle to finance the excursion.
So this morning, I said, "I sure am going to miss you when you leave. But I'm so excited for your trip, that it overrides the selfish sadness I'm going to feel."
"Oh, Mother. You're ridiculous."
"I know. I try. It's one of my goals in life to be ridiculous."
My son: "Well, Mom, check that one off your list."
Ah, chief on my bucket list is to never slide into mediocrity or humdrum existence. Ridiculous is good.