I originally wrote a post about being drained. Sometimes I feel guilty complaining because I know my life is so good. I remember being little and having summer days all to myself. My sister and I would collect rain water in buckets, then do nothing with it. My friends and I rode our bikes up to Walgreens and picked out candy bars and nail polish. I remember going to the beach and swimming until my fingers were pruny and freckles covered my face. I miss those summer days -- days spent worrying about nothing other than the smell of freshly cut grass and the next time I'd walk into an ice cold movie theater to see something brand new to my eyes. It was good.
I've spent this summer taking classes, watching my sister and Mark get married, and working. It's still good.
I know I've been blessed with a life full of happy things and full moments. And even though I know it, I still get caught up in the complaints I can find in the fabric of my life. And whose to say we're not all entitled to a little complaining now and then? But, in the midst of thinking about all the things I've needed to do this summer, I remember the fact that I had the chance to walk on the beach at sunset with my parents tonight, or the fact that I have a dog who cuddles up on the couch next to me, or the fact that my dad made risotto and garlic bread and that we had the opportunity to sit down and eat it together.
And, yes, I'm really tired. And yes, I'd like to spend my days collecting rain water that has no future purpose, but growing up comes with new responsibilities; responsibilities that require a bit more commitment and optimism, both of which I am willing to give if it means that one day, in the distant future, I will watch my own children collect rain water.