A SUMMER IN WAITING
The summer of 2021 is turning out to to be the summer of waiting and wondering.
We wait for GCSE results day - wondering how all the years of having a child at school got used up so quickly. Waiting to nod knowingly that yes, you did brilliantly, despite the shitty circumstances of the last two years. You may have had doubts but we never did.
Wondering how the next two years of college will pan out for us as a family as we meander along the path that leads to learning to drive, A Levels, turning 18 and continuing in earnest the inevitable processes of eventual separation. Then there will be no more of those “stages” I have become so used to; except for the permanent one where I realise I have an adult daughter who makes her own decisions. Yes I’ll still worry about her but hope that she will come to us for advice as needed. I marvel at the cyclical nature of it all.
We all waited for the momentous occasion of Prom, speculating right up to the last minute whether or not it would actually go ahead. What might seem a frivolous occasion on the surface, ended up feeling more like a right of passage as we cajoled and coached her through an event that can pile on the pressure in ways we possibly never even knew. Until finally there we were, standing outside the venue in the evening sun, watching her alight from a car in a dress that was completely her - a blended vision of a rapidly disappearing girl and the woman she’s already becoming. My own moment of pride was born solely out of the knowledge that once again, she was doing things her way. Always be you I tell her.
Then came another wait - this time to ensure that Covid wasn’t the unwanted consequence of large swathes of teens gathering indoors to dance in celebration of the school years now behind them. A consequence that would put a sure and sudden end to the trip to Cornwall we’ve been waiting for since last year. As I publish this we’re on Day 8 post event… so far so good. I wait with crossed fingers.
Having begun to slowly relax into some semblance of a more gregarious life, a couple of weeks ago Patrick was ping’d by the App that has gained notoriety these past few weeks. We “locked down” for six days and thankfully nothing came of it - except for a more cautious stance about where we go, who we see and what we do ahead of the holiday. We took a bargaining oath of sorts - if we could get through Prom in the clear then trips to shops, socialising and eating out were all off the cards for a while. Doing things that we hadn’t done for the last eighteen months didn’t feel important enough to jeopardise a week away for. All that stands between us and time in our most favourite place in the world now is a few more days, some lateral flow tests and the persistence of a hope that refuses to quit.
There was more waiting recently after I had the good fortune to undergo a full health screen, including the all important mammogram. I’d yet to be called for one since turning fifty so it seemed prudent to take advantage of the discount offered by Patrick’s employee health insurance. There’s nothing like the triple whammy of hitting midlife, losing a parent and living through a pandemic to give you a solid dose of the “How’s My Health” jitters. It was all okay. The mammogram results were fine - despite the perimenopausal constant that is breast soreness - another unexpected midlife joy and one that caused me to imagine in great detail that things were not fine at all. Seeing the results of various checks and tests gave me a gentle nudge in the direction of making a few healthier lifestyle tweaks too. I am grateful and by way of recompense, struck a deal with myself to live a full life for as much of life as possible. There’ll be no more waiting where that one is concerned.
This summer the rain has taken to falling in sudden, torrid downpours and so, having had one near miss of swimming in a sea polluted by raw sewage, I now check post rainstorm to see what my water quality alert App says before going in. Last summer there was a distinct absence of rain meaning that overflowing storm drains were of no concern. My mindful morning sea dip attempts feel somewhat thwarted by inadequate drainage and an unwelcome sewage situation. Which in turn has me railing against the powers that be and those who continue to live in denial over what’s required when it comes to preserving our oceans and planet. I sign a petition, make a donation to the Surfers Against Sewage organisation, wonder what else can be done and hope that the holidaymakers who are about to descend in their droves will look after our beaches.
Self-induced pre-holiday isolation aside, I know that even after we return from our break, I’ll be waiting to see how I feel about the so-called “exit wave” situation unfolding around me before committing to routine appointments and gatherings of the indoor social kind. I am still cautious and wonder if this is now my permanent mindset. I, and no doubt millions of others, wait to see how the UK will get through these potentially final, but definitely arduous stages of the pandemic. Are we waiting to see if the gamble we’re being told to participate in will actually pay off in the long run? I can’t say I have much confidence in some of the decisions made but I’m always willing to be pleasantly surprised and told that once again, I worried needlessly.
And so to a bit of a summer hiatus - on here and possibly on Instagram too. At the very least, it feels like the time to bring things to a slower pace - one solid week of UK summer heat, a phenomena for which we are always underprepared, will have that effect.
This year I’m daring myself to look forward to a late, golden summer and the sacred anticipation of an autumn lurking just over the horizon. Whatever your plans, whatever you might be waiting for or wondering about, I wish you many calm, peaceful and lazy days ahead. And I’ll see you on the other side.
