A Metaphor of Sorts, Maybe Mixed

Yesterday was a hard day. Exhausting. Son1's biology class started yesterday, a full week before his other classes. A parent was required to attend the first hour of the three-hour class, and that meant Herman had to go too.That was the beginning of Herman's hard day, in which he was dragged from pillar to post, as my mother would have said. To biology class. To Costco. To the doctor for shots. And then in the evening back up to school with all his brothers for a lengthy orientation. And finally...home for bed.

Late last night after the Herms was asleep, I sat out on the front steps with the husband and the dog...and I needed a blanket. It was like a New England summer night, and this summer has needed a lot more of those. I have experienced many hot summers, all memorable for their own hideous brand of oppressiveness...but this one I will never forget. It is, after all, Son4's first summer, but also the heat felt like a living metaphor.

There has just been so much misery this summer. Sons 2&3 have been out of sorts that this particular summer hasn't been very fun. No beach. Few trips to the pool. That sort of thing. The baby has made many things impossible, but at the same time it's not as if we've been sitting home doing nothing. I wish. Adding to the mix is the fact that lots of long-brewing issues have sort of reached their apex this summer. And then the husband has had deadline after deadline, which is a relief in one way after months with not enough work, but draining for him and makes all of life feel like a pressure cooker. One household item after another has broken. We lived for two weeks without the use of our kitchen sink and dishwasher due to a major plumbing issue, only to find out soon after that we also need a new dishwasher. And let me not forget the invasion of mealy worms (and moths), which arrived months ago in a bag of jasmine rice and flourished in my pantry until I figured out what was going on.

Through it all, the heat bore down on me like some malevolent force; at times it reminded me of being in labor, that sort of inescapable anguish. All you can do is endure.

It is unfortunate how much this summer's oppressive heat felt like a metaphor for life the past few years, but there you have it. It did.

But last night's cool air felt like a baptism. The breeze wrapped around me and reminded me again that, sometimes anyway, things do change.