Slowly slips the spring

So I thought the whole spring/early summer season was supposed to be beautiful, full of hope and joy before the heat of summer slowly sucked the life of everything. I feel like these past few months have been anything but.

Before I launch into writing something full of self-pity and stress, let me say this: these months had their highlights. I finished my first season of teaching winter guard, started my first season of teaching drum corps, and started the first season of Franklin where all the girls are my own. I think I have my future somewhat mapped out and planned. My family continues to let me bum off their financial stability and live under their roof. But like any rollercoaster (the perfect image for these past few months), amid the high points are the low.

And these low points seemed to sting for much longer than the euphoria of the high points. My grandfather passed away. I have mixed emotions on this. He was sick and miserable, and he had time to fully prepare to leave here. My mom had a wonderful few weeks with him. My garndmother seems to be doing okay. But last week, when my mom and I stopped by her (can't call it “their” any more) house to see how she was doing, I kept expecting him to appear as we sat in the living room. As I stretched out on the couch and we watched the Weather Channel, I wanted him to come in from doing something in the yard and ask for the control, because he was the master of the television. But he wasn't there. And he won't be there. But I know that he'd fuss at us for crying so much since he's gone now, because if anything he wants us to be happy and to laugh.

Also, the month of May is usually my favorite. For the past 17 years of my existence, it meant the end of a school year and the excitement of having time for myself. I usually set some lofty goal which I barely made progress on, but during May it seemed like hope floated on the thick, humid air. May was the end of the cool weather and the beginning of the heat, the time when the pool water finally warmed up enough to dive straight in. May was packing and getting things ready for drum corps. And while this prep for corps is the same, it's markedly different. I'm going to teach, not to perform. I have to pack nice clothes to wear at shows. I have to figure out what will wrinkle in my bag and what won't. I have to make arrangements to get home before Finals night. And for once in the 22 (almost 23) years of my existence, I don't have a lofty goal.

Maybe that is what is missing. Maybe I need to come up with something crazy that I can set all my sights on and forget the crazy rollercoaster of the past few months. Because if there is anything that all the past Mays have taught me, it's that summer never disappoints – it's always hot, I always sweat, I'm surrounded by people who have similar passions as me, and it always passes too quickly.