Monday, July 29, 2024

Summer's End

How can it be the end of July already? Where has the summer flown? 

Next week, I head back to school for a couple weeks of prep before students arrive. They start August 12th. 

As usual, I had planned/hoped to accomplish a lot more this summer - reading, travel, planning, writing - but despite failing to do all the things, we did accomplish quite a few. The last two months were incredibly full. I wrote about our trip to Michigan; the next week I taught a session of camp at the kids' school. My session was drama camp: I directed a group of 10 6th-8th graders in an abridged production of A Midsummer's Nights Dream, which was tons of fun and a great success, despite a host of costume malfunctions and a few forgotten lines. Never having done something like this, I was a little apprehensive about how it would go, but it turns out the hardest part was finding a good script that fit our time frame while using much of Shakespeare's original language. The script I found online worked perfectly and preserved the basic plots and language in a 40 minute production. 

The following week was VBS week - I didn't volunteer this year, even though I suffered pangs of regret for hanging back. This was supposed to be a week of planning, reading, writing, research, but was mostly focused on travel planning and resetting the house after hosting a big graduation/birthday party for our 18 year old. In a few weeks, she'll head to college, and we'll be down to one child in elementary school. The 10 year old has already shed tears anticipating her sister's departure, and I have had a few moments of anxiety about having an only child. I'll need a babysitter! I suggested hosting a foreign exchange student to my husband and daughter, but I didn't get much enthusiasm for that idea. Not for the babysitting, of course! But perhaps slightly motivated by the hope of forming a bond with someone whose family might host us overseas...

Family vacation followed on the heels of VBS - this time we headed back to San Diego to celebrate the Fourth of July with our oldest daughter - as well as her birthday on the third.  Our VRBO for this trip did not measure up to our fabulous place in Maine, not surprisingly. Given it was a holiday week, we were lucky to find a place that was relatively close to the beach and big enough for the seven of us who gathered.  Our oldest was on vacation with his wife*** See big announcement below!*** while our third son needed to work (I regretted not funding his trip but struggled with the fairness) and our fourth son was working in Italy (more below on that, too). 

Our original plans were scrambled a bit, but the resulting week turned out to have a nice balance of time with family and friends, without being too active, although it wasn't exactly without some conflict. The first couple of days were full of celebrations - we hosted a party for our 22 year old daughter at a brewery/taco place with her friends and a few of ours. The next morning we followed that up with waking early for the Fourth parade in Coronado, which offered opportunity to catch up with friends and relive happy moments. On Friday we went to SeaWorld, thanks to complimentary tickets for military and veterans. This was a request of the 10 year old, who loved it, despite long lines and expensive snacks, which reminded others of our group why we don't go to amusement parks very often.  Saturday was Balboa Park and beach day, followed by dinner with friends, while Sunday was Mass, brunch, and concert in the park. Some of our group would have preferred to just hang at the beach on Friday and Saturday and skip SeaWorld and the museums, but in the end, everyone got to do a little of something they liked.  We would have had more beach time if the ocean waters in Imperial Beach and Coronado were not contaminated by sewage overflowing from Tijuana's water treatment plant. This has been an ongoing issue for years, and it doesn't sound like a solution is in sight. As a result, although our condo was a couple blocks from the beach, we had to drive up the coast a bit to get past the e. coli water.

Most of the family left Sunday/Monday, but the 10 year old and I stayed two more days to go camping with friends in the San Bernardino National Forest. The temperature was unusually high - in the 90s even at 8000 feet elevation, but we managed to fit in a couple hikes in the morning and evening, and spent the hottest part of the day at Big Bear Lake, which benefitted from the heavy snows the past couple of years so that it had higher water levels than the last time we were there. That suited the girls just fine. My original vision was more of a backpacking trip - in fact, I bought a new backpack on sale - but I was just happy we could get in the mountains for a bit where the girls could enjoy unmediated time in nature. 

I had just enough time after returning from that trip to get the laundry done before we headed to Oklahoma City for the weekend to celebrate my father-in-law's 82nd birthday and meet their new puppy. This is their third golden retriever, and we are all praying he is as well-behaved and smart as their previous two dogs. He is a very much a puppy with lots of energy, but he is adored by all - let's just hope he can get housebroken!

A highlight of our weekend in Oklahoma City was a visit to the Blessed Stanley Rother Shrine.  Bl. Rother was a priest from OK who was martyred by - who? drug lords or the government or both? - in Guatemala in the early 80s. He was warned that he was a target for assassination and was given the opportunity to return to the States, but his famous quote is "A shepherd doesn't run from his people." 

The Shrine is a large and lovely classical church - its ornateness and expense might have dismayed Bl. Rother, other than it draws many people to visit. The day we visited, we stood in line for almost an hour to venerate relics of Padre Pio- his glove, a lock of hair, a piece of his tunic, some blood. More people were in line when we left than when we arrived. The shrine complex also includes an informative museum of Bl. Rother's life, while at the end of the plaza in the front of the church is a replica of the hill of Tepeyac and a tableau of St. Juan Diego and Our Lady of Guadalupe. We didn't follow the path to the top of the hill because a line of people were also waiting to reach the top to prayer. So although our visit was incomplete, we were heartened by the large number of pilgrims visiting. 

After Mass and brunch at a Old Country Buffet, a bit of a tradition with the grandparents, we returned to Austin in time to do more laundry and to spend a few days with our son who returned from his service project in Italy. He was working with L'Arche in Bologna for 6 weeks. Three of those weeks were spent on a bike trip through the Dolomites. The first three weeks he worked as an activities assistant and spent time on various outings and activities with the residents. L'Arche is a residential community for adults with disabilities. He had an amazing experience becoming "comfortable with the uncomfortable" as he said in this essay he wrote for ND. And his Italian improved! To say we are proud of him for doing this is an understatement.  But we were also sorry to that he only had a week home with us before heading back to campus to work a job with Irish media creating content for their athletics department. 

My visit with him was cut even shorter because I had to pack up again on Wednesday. This time I was heading to Oakland for a conference for Catholic school educators on teaching the Holocaust.  The conference was excellent - full of history, stories, and time for reflection.  Sessions were led by a priest and a rabbi, both scholars of Jewish history, as well as a by a teacher who leads a Holocaust seminar for Catholic high schoolers in Atlanta. We heard from the son of a survivor who has helped produce a documentary on an education initiative she started, and another presenter shared information about the Jewish partisan movement of resistors during WW II. A researcher from the US Holocaust museum presenter her research based on her access to the Vatican files of information from WWII, which was just recently opened to researchers. But the highlight of the weekend, aside from time to learn from these presenters and from my fellow attendees, was a visit to a temple and Shabbot services followed by a meal with two survivors and a dozen or so second generation survivors. The two women were in their 90s and full of welcoming energy. One of them was a small child who was hidden away and then sent away on the kindertransport, while the other ran away to the woods and hid with the partisans, although she was too young to fight. She had to stay almost five years in a displaced persons' camp, a part of the history we don't hear much about. It was a very moving experience. 

The past week since returning from that trip has been spent resetting and researching for the return to school. Each day I've logged onto a webinar hosted by Teach Like a Champion, which has had some really practical advice, even if it isn't as inspiring as the Holocaust seminar.  We've had our dental and doctor visits for the summer, although the eighteen year old had to return to the dentist this week because she chipped her two front teeth on the 10 year old's head in the pool. It wasn't the ER visit she thought it might be the moment after it happened, but it was an unplanned expense. 

Tomorrow I return to school for teacher workdays. I'm wishing I had one more week. I wanted to get to Indiana to see my parents on the farm, even though we saw them in Michigan, but I've run out of time, so that trip will have to wait until the fall.  In three weeks, we'll be boarding another flight to take our daughter to school at Furman University in South Carolina.  A new phase of our lives will begin, one the ten year old is not looking forward to. She'll be an only child for the second half of her life. We'll miss having high school events on our calendar, although I'm sure we'll find ways to fill the days. We're already planning our fall trips to see the kids at their various homes around the country! 

A few photos: 

The birthday girl

Enjoying the parade

Fireworks atop the NAVFAC building downtown SD

Visiting Belugas

Riding roller coasters


Patting manta rays

Walking the IB pier

Balboa Park in bloom


Body Surfing at No Surf Beach
League of Wives statue that my friend helped get created and installed

Ship wreckage Coronado beach

Camping in San Bernardino NF



Hike to Jenks Lake


With a Holocaust Survivor Etty H



Puppy pals

Starring as Ms. Hannigan

Siblings!

Blessed Stanly Rother Shrine


The priest that married us is in this photo with Fr. Rother








Oakland Cathedral of Christ the Light


Forgot to mention Summer Swim Team!








Friday, July 19, 2024

Once more to the lake

It's been awhile since I taught E. B. White's classic essay "Once More to the Lake," but it's elegaic title and tone capture the experience of this summer's brief trip to Michigan. As I mentioned in the last post, in early June, my youngest daughter and I flew to Traverse City to meet up with my parents, my older brother and his partner, and my sister and her family. Last summer was reunion year - all three of my siblings and their families, all my nephews and nieces, and all of my own children gathered on South Shore Drive for a summer vacation that was both relaxing and emotionally draining.  There were a lot of people to feed and entertain.  We weren't all on the same schedule, but even so, we did make some great memories. This summer trip had no expectations and so less drama, but also fewer emotional highs. 

Like White, my experience of the lake is colored by memories of my own childhood as I witness the experiences of my youngest.  As I've written about before, when I was growing up, our family went to the same place every summer. We did the same things - swim, bike, read, eat cherry pie and ice cream, watch the sunset, shop in little gift shops, and take a hike or two. Occasionally neighbors would take us out on their boats. My dad, brothers, and grandpa fished. A couple of times, I went on the charter boat, but I mostly read. We didn't mind doing the same thing every year - we craved tradition.

My own children have different memories. Visiting the grandparents has been our tradition, but we've done a lot of different things in the summer the last few years. We have gone to the lake many times, but not every year.  My youngest had few memories of it before last summer. Now that we have gone twice in a row, she has memories of the places and people. But her experience is so different - instead of a handful of cousins around the same age, it was just she and my niece this year.  They play quieter games than their brothers did at the same age.  When I was that age - 10 - I had two cousins and a sister to pal around with, but I also loved solitary time. I was a reader and a dreamer. I liked to spend time at the lake drawing and painting and writing stories. I wanted to hike up into the woods.  In White's essay, he watches his son play in the water and feels time condensing - he is both his son and his father in that moment. Mortal and immortal through memory. I experience a similar emotion when I watch my daughter, but I also am missing not just my own childhood summers, but the childhood summers my children experienced.  Nostalgia threatens to overwhelm at times.

Meanwhile, reading a book about nostalgia on the flight - Ann Patchett's Tom Lake, which as I mentioned takes place in upstate Michigan - reminded me of how unreliable memory can be, and how some memories are resurrected at surprisingly or unexpected times. Visiting the cherry orchard I remembered made me realize I didn't remember the cherry orchard as it was, but rather I remembered what it meant to me. I either never knew or never absorbed the connection of the orchard to Bruce Catton. How often my memory is untrustworthy! I biked to it this summer and stopped to take a few photos, but it no longer is a thriving orchard. Even though house looked tired. I didn't poke around much because I didn't want to trespass, but I remember posing for photos among the trees one summer with my sister and cousins when we were in high school - pre-digital photo/selfie days, but at that age when we loved to envision ourselves as models.  We were beautiful - maybe not by worldly standards - but in our awkward, hopeful, unique ways.  

So here we are - five weeks after this vacation, and I'm just getting around to finishing this post. Somehow this summer has not had the time for the reflection that I was hoping to find. 





In the cherry orchard


Flora of the Michigan coast

This photo is supposed to be of a bald eagle swooping over the lake, but I missed it!

And here is a photo of a deer that just ran into the woods...

Another view from the orchard that doesn't exist any more








Lady's slipper! A rare sighting


Great color contrasts






Modeling

Reading is one form of escape. Running for your life is another.
-Lemony Snicket