The epilogue— or maybe not…

“You can’t go back and change the beginning but you can start where you are and change the end”

         — C.  S. Lewis

But would I?

Change the end?

Or go back to the beginning?

And is it really ever the end or a transition into something else?

The late August heat mixed with the culmination of epic summer of camp experiences and omnipresent shelves filled at Target with back to school supplies and Halloween teasers, I still held steadfast that my personal beach read wasn’t over.

My epilogue was coming…

Because it wasn’t really over, completely, just yet.

Or maybe I didn’t want it to be.

Whatever…

After the party is the after party

The after party.

The part when the DJ comes, the smoke machine ,the bare feet and hair down. All the preparations that led up to this… and then they play that one song your feet don’t hurt anymore you just want to dance with somebody or nobody and that’s ok. Just dance.

Celebrate the moment for no particular reason—

Now fast forward—

It’s those moments I finally get to drive alone again— even to the supermarket or the dry cleaners— and get to listen to my music I get equally excited when that “same song”, the after party one, comes on my Spotify shuffle and it sounds so good, almost remastered, I shoulder dance and sing with the rasp of Adele in my voice and I feel it. Or maybe that’s just my own carpool karaoke of me, myself and I. It’s electric and there’s no reason to start over— just keep going.

Summer was long and short.

Hot and humid.

And yet faster than ever before.

But then at the very end it oozed out ever so slowly and then it stopped. Like toothpaste. Or maybe the feverishly squeezing that unattainable bit left knowing all too well you can never fully get it all out.

That’s the time you know it’s time for something new.

Enter back to school.

“Once in a while you get shown the light, in the strangest of places if you look at it right.”

We got an email from the school district that welcomed us back to “2019”– well sorta.

It felt retro.

Vintage.

Nostalgic.

Simply amazing.

I uncovered the newest fashion statement for back to school this year are wide legged jeans and an extra wide smile.

After reading those poetic words of welcome back letter from our school system I knew what I wanted to do.

I didn’t want to use the same sign I saw all over social media (even though I caved and bought it, too) but then if felt like the minute-maid version, and for back to school I wanted to do something I would do, should do— not something ready made…

Remembering we all have our own recipe for lemonade.

This was mine— “remastered”…

So on the 25th hour I decided I wanted to go back to my roots— no! not on my head, and wear my hair naturally curly, I wanted to make my boys a “homemade” back to school sign from scratch in my kitchen.

The same kitchen I made all different batches of lemonade and covered the wallpaper in 2020 with the lessons of Mrs. Mommy’s Kitchen Classroom.

With construction paper, glue sticks and love. I wanted to create something—

Retro.

Vintage.

Nostalgic.

Because this year is going to be simply amazing. I could feel it.

As the rain danced on the roof late into that evening above my head ‘‘twas the night before school”, I felt the slate being cleaned for this something new. No! Maybe not the epilogue but the new story… The read aloud. Read along. Guided reading. Because let’s face it this summer’s beach read is over for now. That— and the taunts of August and September Halloween candy are relentless these days— October’s thunder has been stolen.

This year is the year I have been waiting forever for. Both my boys will be in the same school. It’s glorious!

No! Not just because there’s one pick up and one drop off and one big yellow bus to do it for me. Ok! Yes that, too!

But what it must feel like to know your brother is in the same school as you. There if you need him. To hold your hand, sit next to you on the bus, walk in his footsteps and pave the way.

“Live for the moments you can’t put into words.”

After the sign was completed and the bright colors and the smell of school supplies lingered in the air, I stepped back in awe. It felt so good to make this sign. In ways I can’t fully explain or put into words.

Underneath the sign were jitters, everyone was having them—that’s natural, but with all the mixed emotions, I was just so excited for them. For my boys to have something I personally never had in school— Each other… and they have this bond they don’t even know they have just yet.

It’s the times of unknown that bring out all the feels. That make you look back, think ahead and still try to live in the moment. It’s not just that for my boys, but for me, too.

I realized that’s the thing about mommyhood. It’s not just about our children who define us and whom have given us this enormous title and equally enormous responsibility— but the shift in who we are, who we were and what we become after we became. Just like the best book ever written there’s the prologue, the plot twists and climax, and maybe the epilogue, our stories are the same way.

I learned a long time ago the one thing that stays is nothing ever does and we need to keep going. We can’t change the messy parts, we can’t even fully repeat our favorite ones either. We still have to clean up after the party and will eventually celebrate something else. Time keeps going and even though the thought of 2019 felt incredible it isn’t the way the story is supposed to write. And 2019 wasn’t all incredible, it was just better than what 2020 felt like.

We weren’t going backwards, we learning a new way to do hard things and that the last few bittersweet mixtures of lemonade that didn’t taste so good gave us a chance to keep perfecting our recipe. So we can be ready to make a sweeter batch of memories this year.

Fingers crossed…

I didn’t sleep well that night— the first day of school eve. Actually none of us did. It was to be expected actually. That restless feeling is natural and it wasn’t until that first sip of coffee early in the morning when I was all alone, admiring my sign, before anyone else officially re-woke up for real this time, I knew the day at already begun. There was no turning back. I hoped that the rain didn’t ruin the parade. I would still get the first day of school pictures, I hoped the big bus and the big school wouldn’t feel so big and it would be the best first day even with some jitters.

The waiting for anything is the hardest part.. it gives you too much time to wonder.

It would be many hours from AM to PM until the big bus dropped them off— together, just as they got on, even though the rain didn’t relent, the wide smiles were the first thing I saw and truly made their outfits, not just the brand new kicks and NBA jerseys. Their authentic smiles were the best accessory apparently my boys never took off and hope will never out grow.

I could not wait for the recap.

Nothing is sweeter than the best first day. And I got a double helping of it…

First week success and we ended it with two things that made my feelings of the best year yet, kinda prematurely, but nevertheless true…

Friday night the sky was beautiful and the weather was perfect (for my freshly blown out hair) we went out to dinner as a family to end this wonderful week off and new beginnings off just right— to the same restaurant we ate at before the summer had begun.

As we sat and talked and giggled and at times got a little too over-tired ridiculous, I took it all in. The moments together and the perfect seat to watch the change from daylight to sunset. The votive candles began as a small pinpoint of light on the white tablecloth to a glistening flicker in the fresh early evening backdrop. My boys bright eyes sparkled and I looked over at my OG and realized these are times I must have prayed for even when I had those sliding door moments of regret or if I should’ve went down a different path or something like that... I can’t go back and rewrite. I don’t even want 2019– I think this, these moments, are what I want, the moments of imperfect perfection.

Later in the evening after my boys were sleeping soundly have a wonderful family dinner, my OG asked me out on a date. He told me to get a babysitter for the next day because he’s taking me out.

We haven’t had a real date in forever and all those kitchen table meals are irreplaceable, but it’s not the same— I still have to clean up. I didn’t know where we were going, but going somewhere just the two of us felt so special.

Maybe inspired by our binge watching of Emily in Paris this summer he was motivated to get me a close second. I know Sunday morning I would still be more “Lindsey on Long Island” than Elle DoubleU - Pepper, but the intimate French bistro with the intimate table for two and then the nightcap of homemade ice cream and the way he still holds my hand as we cross the street, felt like the epilogue to me…

Sometimes I need to be given the same love I have been giving out.

Fast forward to mid September, temperatures are high and low and it’s beginning to feel like leather jacket and ripped jeans weather again—

Between homework, fall sports, back to school nights and after school schedules, life is bananas. If I could split myself in two it would be easier, but nothing worth anything is easy. And then there would be no story to write. It would be over before we started.

Sitting on the sidelines these past few weeks has been exhausting and glorious! I am part paparazzi and part chauffeur and the best part is being the biggest cheerleader. Whether it be on the field or helping with homework or studying for a test, I cherish these moments, even the messy ones…

In the end it’s just about how it feels because these moments are each integral parts and the sum of the parts equals the whole.

Right now even though at times I feel complete and other time messy,  hanging on for the epilogue isn’t the answer because the story isn’t over, it’s somewhere inside a chapter of my book of life. I’m living to tell my story, all the parts, until it’s truly meant for my epilogue and that’s when there’s no more story left to write …