In a few days both kids will be off for the summer.
I have a few weeks in between the end of my courses and the end of theirs in which I usually stop for a bit. Tie up some loose academic ends. Read a novel. Mark the progression of the kids, ending another year of preschool and gradeschool. A little interim for me between the distinct stages of my year. Biomom always says that her year doesn't change. It doesn't really start or end (other than the beginning that coincides with the calendar). She goes to work every day. No new backpack for the start of school in September, or big letdown in December and May after finals.
This spring has been that and more for me. I've started a few new projects (my first firsts since Big was born) and I've run one half marathon and prepared for the next one (this coming Sunday) and am preparing for Cousin's impending move.
Did I mention that she's moving? Yeah. They were here for a year.
A really serendipitous year; one that I really needed her here for and one in which I seriously took advantage.
I just finished Anna Quindlen's new novel Every Last One.
I had only read One True Thing, of her's and haven't really sought out her work, other than running across her column The Last Word in Newsweek at the doctor's office occasionally. Her style is soft and easy. Filled with zinger one-liners that really capture a feeling or a moment. Sort of like watching an hour drama on Sunday's on NBC. But you get used to it, and I came to appreciate the profundity of some of her zingers.
I thought about repeating a few of them here for you now, but out of context it seems silly.
But the book was just what I needed right now. It's a tragedy. It's sad. But she is such a graceful and loving author that you can't help but love the characters, their complexity, and the universality of her experience (the main character's now) as a parent and someone in grief.
It's not for everyone, but if you need a little cathartic help, pick it up.
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