The things that matter most

Over the last few weeks, we have allowed our regular routine to be disrupted. You wouldn't suspect two people who are not quite middle-aged to be so set in our ways, but eons of getting up in time to make sure that not only both of us were ready, but that our boys were ready for school as well, leaves an indelible mark on one's circadian rhythms.

We jumped off of this schedule in order to share in an annual family reunion in some other part of the country, roughly equi-distant from all of us spread across the right half of the nation. We had fun, and it was remarkably good to see everyone, as always. It was diverting too. We take off work, and so, the regular morning shuffle to get the dogs out and fed, ourselves clean and fed and off to work on time, vanished.

After all too short a visit, some of the family came home with us, too and stayed with us for a few extra days. This not only gave a pleasant feeling of extension to the holiday, but it made for an opportunity to spend some real quality time with people that we love a lot. It is often difficult to spend a nice candid evening on the porch having a discussion among twenty people, though we tried.

And then, before we knew it, our family was on the move again, departing on the first of several legs to get home.

We were on the verge of settling back into our daily routine, when my wife's cousin called to say they would be coming back through from Florida and would we mind if they stayed. Of course not. Fate had managed, over the past few years, that we were in their neck of the woods each summer and suddenly, it was our chance to host them. With two wonderful kids and a sunny weekend, they made our weekend fun, happy and a wonderful memory.

Suddenly, however, it seems that the two weeks of bliss are over. We are now faced with the regular grind of summer mornings, again.

That was what I thought. A few days ago, I went to get the paper off the front walk and I noticed a back to school flyer advertising all the things that students in public school usually need. Pencils, notebook paper, three-ring binders and calculators were all on sale. I remember feeling as though a weight of stress was crowding in on me. I hate shopping for school supplies, above all things. The atmosphere of the supercenter buzzes with the kind of thick tension that one must feel on a battlefield.

But, suddenly, and oddly in unison with a bright beam of early-morning sunlight that broke through the clouds, I realized that we had gone for school supplies for the last time, last year.

All three of our children had made it through public education. We were no longer obliged to get into a tug of war battle with a lady over No. 2 yellow Faber Castell pencils.

The relief was, I'm sure, palpable for the squirrels and crows in our old oak out front.

I shared the news with my wife, who had already come to that conclusion, herself.

With our youngest shipping off to college in another county, we would be free from the burden to pack lunches, wake grumpy teenagers, bustle them out the door on time, and so on.

Not only did our routine change when the school year ended (as it always has) it stabilized into a new norm. One that will mostly likely be the case for us, for the next few decades.

And so, I suppose that while it may feel as though we're getting back into the same old routine, in actuality, we are embarking on a new leg of our family journey. And while it was wonderful to be with friends and family over the last few weeks, the thing that matters most to me, is that we appreciate every single aspect of our lives together, because routines shift and change, and we often don't realize they're done, until it's too late.