‘Twas the summer before college when all through the house, I was procrastinating packing, and slacking about.
This summer was memorable, but not in the way of crazy graduation parties, trips with friends in Europe, or having a major glow-up. If I wanted to be negative, my summer was uneventful and consisted of checking my emails, helping my parents with the house, and playing Minecraft. But if I wanted to be a glass-half-full type of gal, I would say this summer has given me clarity. The time I’ve had has helped me distinguish the true significance of family, health, and happiness.
My parents both had accidents with their hands in June/July. My dad currently has carpal tunnel in both hands and was preparing for surgery at the time. But the icing on the cake was having his finger severed by a manhole on the job. Then my mom realized she had sprained her wrist via a fall earlier in the year. We’re a very accident-prone family as you’ve probably gathered.
I took on most family responsibilities and suddenly became the chauffeur, cook, dishwasher, floor cleaner, and laundromat. Even though I didn’t want to admit it, this put a strain on my mental health. I felt a lot of guilt for not wanting to take care of my parents, wanting to go out with my friends instead of driving them to doctor appointments, and that I had been taking them for granted before their injuries.
Though this seemingly repetitive time, the precious moments with family overshadowed our string of unfortunate luck, and proved more valuable than any banger party.
This summer we frequented one of me and my mom’s favorite places. We love going to a farm to pick vegetables ourselves. The almost hour drive to this farm in the middle of nowhere and coming home with pounds of eggplant and zucchini define summers at home. The experience of having zucchini for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, racing the clock before it rots in the fridge is an experience only we share. I love cooking, and every day I had the opportunity to cook my parents a new meal, but most importantly pretend like I’m on Masterchef. They couldn’t protest so we tried many things that my family would never have made on their own volition.
This summer we’ve also had our very first “family game night,” at my insistence. I’ve always wanted us to spend more time as a family, but our hectic schedules were generous enough to allow us a late-night dinner at the table together. The groans I got when I insisted we play Monopoly eventually subsided as everyone’s annoyance turned to enjoyment. Even my unenthusiastic, video game addicted, older brother was down for a second round.
My point in all this is that even when things seem like they can’t get any worse, there’s enormous strength in being able to see magic in the monotonous, and laugh when times seem grim. This summer has given me time for reflection on how precious family is, and as I go into this new chapter solo, I will always remember where I came from. I finally feel on the other side: I’m missing my other half and will always be worrying about my parents, but they finally get to live their lives again and see me flourish on my own.
