“And the streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing in its streets.” Zechariah 8:5

My husband loves spreadsheets, nerds out over tornadoes and wall clouds, and can tell you the chord progression of a song without having played it. With all his attention to detail, you might be surprised to know this doesn’t carry over into games of strategy. Before we were married, we played 42, a dominoes game, with a group of friends. Played with a partner, it requires strategy without audible cues. After switching partners across the evening, one of our friends pointed out that Terry was the common factor in losing the game. This observation, while meant to be funny, embarrassed my husband.

Terry being the losing combination changed a few Saturdays ago. We finally got to play pickleball and it was a blast. My husband was grinning from ear to ear and said, “This is the most fun I’ve had all summer!” With a group of friends and their children, we tailgated brunch and played pickleball for two hours. After playing a few games, we found the common factor in winning: Terry!  He caught on to the game quickly and played with finesse. His best partner was twelve-year-old Alex, who is a natural at any sport.

The combination of kids and summer exudes adventure and utter delight. They slurp snow cones with no worries as the blue raspberry syrup runs down their chins and stains their fingers and clothes. In the evenings, fireflies enchant them to dance amongst these miniature stars. They giggle as they run through sprinklers, not bothering to wipe the water from their faces. They curl up in a hammock, lost in a library book, forgetting to eat lunch. Dandelions become magical fairy dust when they blow the seeds across the yard. Games like kick-the-can, ghost-in-the-graveyard, and ball tag become adventures as children from all over the neighborhood join in. Then they fall asleep, after a long day of doing everything and nothing at the same time.

As adults, we lose that sense of wonder and utter delight we felt throughout childhood summers. We complain about the oppressive heat, the weeds in our yards, and our never-ending to-do lists. We worry about eating too many calories and the fact that we haven’t read a book for fun in years. We go to bed exhausted, having accomplished a lot, but really doing nothing that sparks any joy in our lives.

I get it. We carry more burdens than my four-year-old grandson who giggled insanely while jumping through his dinosaur sprinkler. We dread the blue raspberry stains on the new shirt we just bought our kids along with the snow cone sugar rush that will prevent them from sleeping at bedtime. We must prepare meals, wash laundry, and clean bathrooms. We need adequate rest to be functional at work the next day, but all too often wake up just as exhausted as we were the night before.

As an empty nester, I don’t have kids to worry about, but somehow my life still gets busy. I don’t have to pick up after children, but I have filled my life with different sorts of responsibilities, including volunteering within my church. I am also working on editing my book, writing this blog, and researching for a future book, all while working part-time. At the end of the day, I find it easier to stream a show than to dive into a book for fun.

A few weeks ago, I was in Wisconsin for the wedding of my friends’ daughter who married a young man from my church in PA. My daughter had been anticipating this trip for weeks, having not been in Wisconsin since 2020. Her whole posture was that of a child in summer: she jumped out of the car when we arrived at the lake and ran to dip her toes in the sand. On her behalf, her husband set an early alarm for a trip to Piggly Wiggly for the best donuts. She visited some of our favorite local shops and exhibited utter glee over her visits to Culver’s, in her mind the best fast-food restaurant in the nation.

Usually, I compete with Maggie to see who has the highest level of excitement. In most cases, my stronger extrovert nature and my hometown love usually put me a few points in the lead. But this year, my level of excitement was lackluster. It reminded me of the hot wet oatmeal mush I ate when my sense of taste and smell was gone from the Covid-19 virus in 2021. The oatmeal had as much flavor as I had excitement for going to Wisconsin. I was looking forward to seeing my friends and family. I was looking forward to the wedding. I was looking forward to visiting some of my favorite places. But as much as I was looking forward to all of this, I just couldn’t conjure up my normal level of excitement.

Despite my love for all things Wisconsin, my lack of excitement had to do with the timing of the trip. My sweet granddaughter, Charlotte, was born at the beginning of June, and I spent two weeks with them soaking up baby snuggles and toddler antics. I came back home to start my new job and finalize plans for VBS. Meanwhile, I caught a virus and struggled for the next month with exhaustion, coughing, and a touch of laryngitis. Next, we spent a long weekend in Rhode Island to celebrate Joel’s 4^th Dino Birthday, only to leave a week and a half later for Wisconsin. The idea of taking this trip while still struggling with exhaustion seemed hard.

This chaotic schedule was mostly outside of my control. I can’t control the birth of babies to align with my plans. I also couldn’t control the virus that added to my exhaustion. The new position that I accepted was too perfect to pass up. Celebrating with Joel on his birthday and with my friends on their daughter’s wedding day was important to me. The only thing I could control was the plans I made for VBS. Although I could have been slightly more organized in my plans, overall, my organization would have been fine sans a new job and sickness. It was a brief two and half months where things collided together in a chaotic swirl, leaving me exhausted.

I shared with Terry how exhausted I was and how much I was struggling with this trip. He, too, was exhausted, but tried to encourage me to think about how seeing my friends and family would energize me. He reminded me of the sound of the lake and some of my favorite restaurants. I still wasn’t feeling the vibe he was trying to send me until the vision of a Dairy Queen twist Crunch Cone danced into my head.

For all of you who live in the mid-Atlantic region, ice cream cones in the Midwest can be either dipped in a chocolate coating or sprinkled with a delectable mixture of crumbled peanut brittle and sprinkles called a Crunch Cone. As a child, I loved it even if a pile of sprinkles fell in my lap. It was one of the only toppings I liked on ice cream. I tried to like Blizzards when they became the craze but found the cold candy against the ice cream to be unpleasant. I soon went back to ordering the Crunch Cone. One of my disappointments about moving to Pennsylvania was that none of the Dairy Queens here sold this topping. When I tried to order it across the state, and even further down south in Maryland and Virginia, I would often be met with glazed eyes as if I had ordered something in an unknown language. But at the Dairy Queen in my hometown where I used to work, they still carried my favorite topping.

The vision of sprinkles and chopped peanut brittle on ice cream inspired me to move from malaise to excitement. It brought back a simple childhood delight, helping me to push through the waves of heaviness to what was important. I loved Wisconsin: the food, the memories, and most importantly, the friends and family who are dear to me. Yes, I was at the end of a chaotic season, and curling up in my bed vegging out while streaming TV shows sounded like a good idea. But that activity would not bring life to me, instead it would numb me, ultimately leaving me feeling empty.  Just like a child in summer, I sometimes need to embrace what really matters in life. For me, that meant embracing all that Wisconsin means to me.

I did not find rest in the traditional sense in Wisconsin. I spent a lot of time visiting our old haunts, staying up late, and spending time with friends and family. I laughed a lot, cried a little, and mostly soaked up as much time as I could with the people dearest to me. It was good and it was restful for my soul. I crawled into bed each night and slept soundly, doing nothing and everything at the same time.

Summer is slowly creeping to an end. The mornings are already starting to feel cooler and soon the September crickets will be playing their soulful music. A few years from now, I will have a vague recollection of how busy this summer was. Instead, I will remember seeing my beautiful granddaughter the day of her birth. I will remember waking up Eva and Joel and having breakfast with them. I will remember being in Wisconsin, laughing and creating new memories with my family and friends. I will remember Terry and Alex being the stars of the pickleball court. I may even remember going through the drive thru at Dairy Queen and ordering my Crunch Cone.