Earlier this summer I had a really hard morning at work, and it was one of those times when there was no hiding my misery. Everyone who came in contact with me was treated to bloodshot eyes, super-fast hunchback walking, and wild gesticulating. My sweet staff of college students couldn’t bear it one minute longer, and within an hour I had the most heartfelt cheer-up card and a strawberry cheesecake on my desk, along with a steady stream of loving texts and humorous bitmojis full of hearts and romance. I was immediately better. This taught me two things: 1) don’t hide your bad day from people who care about you, and 2) this too shall pass.

Recently in our meditation class a friend spoke of a year long overwhelming problem that was finally resolved so that now he could focus on the “joyful mundane.” In the spirit of this, here are some sweet memories from non-vacation, regular-life moments in our all too fast and sometimes too slow summer …

In Rock Band camp, Huck was given the lead vocals part in U2′s “Where the Streets Have No Name,” mostly because our friend Austin is the teacher and he knew this would really make us happy. For the Friday afternoon concert we somehow managed to surprise Troy as Huck made his way to the microphone center stage and said, “This goes out to my dad.” Our friend Russell took this picture and called it Troy’s Mr. Holland’s Opus moment. (Back then we thought this was the closest we were going to come to hearing this song live, but now we have September 16th in St. Louis …)

While marching down Dickson Street in our town’s Pride Parade as part of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, our bodies draped with colorful streamers as we carried Love Wins signs others had made and generously put into our empty hands, we passed Huck’s gang of girl friends and convinced them to leave their curb side post and join us. ‘Twas the happiest place in town and just right for our rainbow-loving son. Taking a quick break from the joyful mundane to talk about the miserable reality, do you ever feel like we’re all being punk’d by some international TV show to see how far we will accept this lunatic presidency? At least the daily headlines that land in our Facebook feed and pop up on our phones have inspired some of the best conversations between us and our confused, tolerant tween. Huck is most flabbergasted by how far American Christianity is from the real deal, putting power and righteousness before the marginalized people of our sad society. Huck’s reaction to Trump’s views on transgendered people and immigrants (for instance) mirror his long ago reaction upon learning about segregation and women not being allowed to vote. He kind of looks back and forth at the two of us like we’re making this up. I think I need another cheesecake.

Back to summer. There have been many visits to the swimming pool on Mount Sequoyah, a few lemonade stands, a lot of time with friends, Wonder Woman, songwriting, coding, so much Minecraft, so much pizza, computer animation, shaved ice, chimney fixing (see super tall ladder pic below), yard work, Adventure Time, fire pits, dog walks, library concerts, book reading, root beer, summer shandies, margaritas, water parks, hikes, and a watering hole. We are this close to ending Huck’s reign as the last 12 year old in Fayetteville without a cell phone. Soon we will purchase junior high school supplies & bigger sneakers, resume piano lessons, get Troy some real glasses, rent a viola, and memorize a new locker combination. But for now we have two more weeks of good old mundane summertime.

As camp ended last Friday and with it my role as director, those same staff members from earlier in the story gave me yet another love card and a one hour massage gift certificate, their annual show of appreciation. In happy, youthful handwriting were the words: “Ms. Jonny, get your relax ON!  You deserve it!”

Love wins.