• Summer of Just Enough

    In a recent yoga class, the teacher suggested a meditation on the idea of enough. Not scrimping but having what you need. The opposite of greedy excess. Just enough. I’ve been thinking about that often in this odd summer of highs and lows.

    In June, much of what I’d longed for during the long, oppressive COVID winter seemed within reach. 

    Summer’s simple pleasures beckoned. Sunup at 5:30, sunset after 9:00. Walking early. Flowers everywhere. I’d plant my vegetable garden, visit the farmers market, and go to the beach.

    Even better, I could be with family and friends easily, outdoors. Take a modest driving vacation.

    I could contemplate more ambitious plans like visiting my siblings and extended family in Ohio and Wisconsin after two years apart because of COVID.

    We had the joy of our younger son’s June wedding and the afterglow of our older son’s May wedding.

    So many good things!

    As June turned to July, those big helpings of happiness were tempered by sobering swallows of reality. High temperatures and humidity smothered the Twin Cities for weeks on end. Walking and gardening became chores I scheduled for early morning or close to sunset when the air was cooler and the breeze picked up a little. 

    Cosmos and zinnias are hanging in there despite drought.

    The beach, farmers market, and outdoor gatherings with family, book group, and my writers’ groups remained carefree and fun despite the weather.

    July’s high heat and drought shrank Minnehaha Creek and crisped lawns. Hazy smoky air from western and northern wildfires shrouded the Twin Cities. What have we done to the climate? Why aren’t we doing something about it??

    Less visible but equally scary was the delta variant’s arrival. “Maybe we’ll need to wear masks again,” became “Damn. We have to mask up.” With that realization came the sludge of past fears and present worries about risk. Ugh. 

    While driving to see family in Wisconsin and Ohio, I’ve been masked and careful. Hugging them and talking naturally—in person, like pre-COVID—has felt so good. I’m so grateful we’re all still here.

    Wisconsin prairie

    As August swings into September, the weather has moderated a bit, but distant wildfires are still burning and the delta variant is more widespread. My worries about climate and health persist and I consider: have the summer’s highs outweighed the lows? Have they been enough? For me, yes. It’s hard to argue with the joy of happily married sons, the addition of wonderful daughters-in-law, or the pleasure of sharing a good meal with the family I’ve missed. All’s not right with the world, but my portion of well-being is enough.

    Ohio porch

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    5 responses to “Summer of Just Enough”

    1. Cindy Kraack Avatar
      Cindy Kraack

      Well captured, Ellen.

    2. Margaret Shriner-Eagle Avatar
      Margaret Shriner-Eagle

      Thank you for the lovely words of peace and acceptance

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        Thank you for reading

    3. Eliza Waters Avatar

      It’s been a wild ride this summer, hasn’t it? We did enjoy a brief mask-less six weeks June 1st, before the bubble burst and we found ourselves a few steps back. Vaccinations give a modicum of comfort, but no longer the magic bullet we were hoping for, alas. We may get sick, but hopefully, will recover without a trip to the hospital! So many worries, but I just have to focus on the good things and the little gifts that crop up every day. My pets make me smile and the garden is such a happy place, I’m fortunate to have them.
      Nice to see your post, Ellen, take care and may you and yours stay healthy.

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        I agree with your focus on the good things—and my gardens definitely are one of them!

  • Vacationing with Young Adults

    It started a year ago with an email, “Jody, look at Cabin 9. We could bring the dogs and maybe Crystel and Juan could bring a friend.”

    Our first friend trip was to a 3-bedroom cabin near Walker, MN on Leech Lake in August 2020. Juan chose the bedroom furthest away from his parents. I’m guessing it had something to do with me saying, “If I hear any noises coming from your bedroom, I will embarrass you.”

    The trip was a success. We shared meal prep and cleanup, evening board games, tandem biking, and driving a 22’ Sea Hunt 225 HP boat for the first time.

    When Jody asked if they would like to do a winter cabin trip, both kids enthusiastically said, Yes.

    This time, it was a rented house at Heartwood Resort in Wisconsin. Again, Juan chose the furthest bedroom from his parents.

    We seemed to have the recipe for success: a friend, the sharing meal prep and cleanup, board games, cross country skiing, and dogs.

    Mount Rainier was our most recent friend trip. Six of us in a 30ft RV with the dogs for eight days. Crystel and her friend chose to set up a tent outside of the RV. Juan and his friend had the space over the cab.

    There weren’t any board games this trip, although I had packed a cupboard full. After hiking Crystal Mountain and Mount Rainier, cooking and cleaning, our energy was zapped. On the last day before our long two-day drive home, the kids took an Uber into Seattle for an adventure. Jody and I stayed back for much needed R&R with no teenagers.

    As the kids have aged into young adults, Jody and I have made the transition as well. It has been a pleasure vacationing with Juan’s girlfriend and Crystel’s boyfriend.

    Our future travel plans include a month in Florida in February 2022 and a trip to Yellowstone in July. Of course, accommodations for all.

    We do hear comments from others that at some point the kids will stop wanting to travel with us. I’m not concerned. Crystel asked me the other day if I was interested in backpacking in Europe. If Jody and I keep paying and having accommodations for all, this arrangement could go on for some time. And, when it stops, we will make the transition.

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    One response to “Vacationing with Young Adults”

    1. Karen Martha Avatar

      My grandchildren didn’t want to go to the cabin during high school, and now, as young adults, can’t get enough of it, parents and all!

  • When Death Becomes a Mystery

    We know that we are going to die. We read about death in the newspapers. People we know and do not know. Obituaries are posted on social media.

    The further away a death is from me the less I question it. It’s just a fact. People die.

    But then Sam Spratt died. He was 25 years old. On Wednesday, May 19, 2021, he was in a car accident and died at the scene. He was our neighbor and Juan and Crystel’s caregiver for over four years. Death suddenly became a mystery to me. Why did Sam die? Was he done living his life? Did he accomplish all that he wanted? My world instantly felt less safe. I was nervous getting in my car. Now I knew I could die. If Sam could die, I could die.

    There is no more do-over for Sam. What he did in this life is done. Or is it?

    Sam’s funeral was overflowing with young, middle-aged, and old people. Friends, neighbors, relatives, high school classmates. Attendees spoke about how kind Sam was. How understanding. The deep conversations they had.

    Juan and Crystel experienced the same with Sam. Sam was 12 years old and the kids were 5 when he started nannying for us. Monday to Friday he came to our house while Jody and I were at work. He even spent an occasional overnight when Jody and I were out of town.

    Sam and our children became a familiar sight throughout the Richfield community and parts of Edina. For years they pedaled their bikes to dentist and orthodontist appointments, Tae Kwon Do, swim lessons, movies, library, restaurants, bowling, swimming pool and the neighborhood parks. Sam took on the additional responsibility of Juan and Crystel’s friends for play dates in our backyard swimming pool.

    I was compelled to write a blog post about our experience with Sam when I read a parenting book that warned against having a teenage boy babysit – the children would be at risk.

    With intention, Jody and I welcomed Sam into our home and into our lives. We were blessed to have this teenage boy responsible for our children’s safety.

    On Easter five weeks before he died, Sam walked down the street to our house to visit with Juan and Crystel. He was planning to come to their graduation party in June. “He wouldn’t miss it!” he said. The three of them chatted as they would do, cajoling and teasing each other. Juan and Crystel were ‘his kids.’ He had taught them how to read, made sure they brushed their teeth, and that they weeded the garden.

    Now he’s teaching Juan and Crystel about death, grief, and loss. How to navigate when a loved one is no longer with us.

    His death continues to be a mystery to me. I’m still asking questions. Still pausing my mind when I pass the area where he died.

    Sam was right, though. He did show up for Juan and Crystel’s graduation. I finally looked at Juan and Crystel’s picture boards at the end of their graduation party. Juan had many photos of himself, Crystel, Jody and me on his board. Prominently displayed in the center was a photo of Juan, Sam and Crystel.

    I’m reminded of Mary Oliver’s poem The Summer Day.

    Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?

    Tell me, what is it you plan to do

    with your one wild and precious life?

    I nurtured two souls, Sam can say. I gave them my heart and they gave me theirs. To that end, I taught them love for another.

    Sam Spratt October 17, 1995 – May 19, 2021.  Never forgotten.

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    3 responses to “When Death Becomes a Mystery”

    1. Jennifer Lessin Avatar
      Jennifer Lessin

      So sorry guys…Sam sounds like a blessing beyond even these words.

    2. Eliza Waters Avatar

      I’m sorry to read of the loss of such an important part of your lives. It is always harder to accept death of the young, as I know when I lost my niece when she was only 22. Sometimes these things are the toughest lessons we’ll ever experience.

    3. wrytr Avatar

      Beautiful! Thank you for this…and I’m sorry for your loss.


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