The Most Middle-Aged Summer Ever!

Philip announced that this summer has been the “most teenage summer ever.” I looked at him quizzically until he elaborated. For him, this summer was full of things that teens typically do: He got his wisdom teeth out. He had music lessons and driving lessons. He went camping. He hung out with his friends. He went to a grandparent’s funeral. He went to the beach. He went on a mission trip with his youth group. He procrastinated his summer reading assignment.

On a break from my lovely, middle-aged beach ride.

I don’t think that’s what I would have come up with if I was trying to imagine the “most teenage summer ever.” But, now that he mentions it, how did Danny Zuko and Sandy What’s-Her-Name have time for all that Summer Lovin’ in Grease? Didn’t they need to get their wisdom teeth out? And come to think of it, they probably could have used a bit more driver’s ed.

But, he’s right. Just listening to his list of rites of passage activated a sense of nostalgia for me. What a precious time. Connecting with friends, doing hard things. Grieving. Giving back. Growing, learning, and preparing to leave the nest. Looking towards an unknown future—scary, but full of possibility.

Seeing as I drove him to all his summer activities, I, too, had the most teen summer ever. Except, I also saw two of my friends diagnosed with cancer. I lost my mother-in-law. I think I might have had my first hot flash. I tried to teach the boy how to drive stick until he got out of the car and walked home swearing he would never do that again. I watched my friends get their kids settled at college, taking notes for when–too soon–that rite of passage arrives for me. I saw all the children's theater in Olympia–whether it was Charlie or one of her friends who was in it. I chaperoned the youth group mission trip. I loudly sang songs from The Little Mermaid with Charlie in a hotel pool. I rode my e-bike on the beach.

You know what? I had the most middle-aged summer ever! I didn’t get my groove back or anything, but it was the sort of summer I’ll look back on through the tint of nostalgia and think, what a precious time. Connecting with my kids, doing hard things. Grieving, giving back, learning. Looking towards a future with an empty nest. Scary, but still full of possibility.