The Highs and Lows of August

A teacher friend of mine calls August, “the Sunday of summer”. The month when the easy, breezy days warm days start to morph into fall – back to work, back to school, back to reality. I work everyday, every season. Did I mention I got a job? Anyway, I do know how she feels.

As our children get older, their independence is amplified during the summer. They’re rarely home for dinner, out all day with friends or working. It’s normal. We were their age not too long ago (okay, maybe long ago). Sometimes, we miss having them around: beach days, movie nights, playing board games, sitting outside gazing at stars and catching fireflies.  So, this August, we took a family trip to the Bahamas. Six fun-filled days with only the four of us, digging our toes in the soft white sand, next to a turquoise ocean so beautiful we couldn’t keep away. We had nowhere to go and all day to get there. We enjoyed every meal with the boys, these men, catching up on their lives, their thoughts and summer experiences. It was blissful.

After dinners, we roamed the huge hotel casino and found a jazz lounge where we spent most nights listening to a band called The Essence, singing along to songs of Anita Baker, Gladys Knight and Michael Jackson while sipping martinis. Good times.

Symbolic, eh?

 

Our lovely vacation came to an abrupt halt when, merely 48 hours after we landed at JFK tanned and rested, our car was packed to capacity with the belongings of our older son. Leaving the younger one at home, due to space constraints, we made the eight-hour drive to bring our college student to school for his sophomore year.

The drop-off experience this year had a different vibe for sure. The mood permeating the car was less anxiety and fear of the unknown and more a subtle sadness that he was leaving us again. Even our son felt it, mentioning more than once just how fast the summer had flown.

Yes. It seems to pass faster every year. I have a high school senior at home. Next year, we’ll be whisking him to an institution of higher learning (God willing). And then, it will be me and my husband. Again.

Feeling wistful, I expressed my thoughts on the drive home while my husband silently focused on the double-yellow cutting through the fields of PA. Exhausted, we pulled into the driveway, unpacked what was left in the trunk and returned to the house, to work, to our daily routine, trying not to miss the boy and life as it was once.

Today at the office, I received an email from my love. It was an invitation. Four words.

Friday. Beach. Dinner. Wine.

Well, okay then.

Hello!

It’s me. You know. Me. The one who seemed to drop off the radar for the past, oh..several months.

Hi. (I’m waving)

The last we connected, I was sending my first born off to college, commemorating the event with a nostalgic, Nope, Not Me post which expressed my sentiments at the time. Since then, the boy finished his freshman year and has returned to the nest for the summer. In a flash. My son being away was not the reason for my absence these past months. I have another reason.

I got a J.O.B.

That’s right. My first full-time-out-of-the-house job in 15 years. Now, you may ask, Where does someone who loves to write get a job?

If you answered: An accounting firm, you’d be a little nuts, but correct.

I know what you’re thinking. An accounting firm is the place where creativity goes to die.

Okay, maybe that’s what I was thinking.

So, I’ve been adapting these past months to the daily grind, as I like to refer to my new lifestyle. As difficult as the change is (I know, most of the world works, but give me this, ok? I’ve been wearing shirts with hoods for the past umpteen years and my commute went from fifteen steps to my home office to navigating traffic every single weekday, both ways, showered (by 7:00 am!) and dressed in pants and a blouse),  I find the most difficult adjustment for me is knowing nothing and having to learn everything. At almost fifty. I’ll give you an example: Since my last foray in an office, at the turn of the century, copy machines can now staple. Clearly, I’ve missed much.

So, among other things (cooking, cleaning), I gave up blogging for a bit. To adjust. To focus. To learn.

What I didn’t give up, is writing my novel. Which leads me to my news: I’m so proud to share that The Fabric of Us will be out this summer. August-ish. Here’s the blurb:

On the eve of Olivia Bennet’s fiftieth birthday, she and her husband, Chris, toast to the next stage of their lives. Their children are settled; Ella is married and planning a family and Nick is starting his senior year at college. After thirty years of sacrifices and struggles for their family, it is finally time to do all of things they’ve longed to do as a couple.

But life, always unpredictable, has other plans for the Bennets when Olivia gets shocking news that threatens all that she and Chris have built together.

Alternating between the past and present, The Fabric of Us beautifully unfolds the layers of a devoted marriage, exposing an interwoven thread of secrets and consequences that threaten to unravel a relationship once believed to be built on love, trust and faith.

Currently, I’m working on the cover with my fan-tabulous graphic designer and friend, Suzanne, (who also runs a publishing company). Suzanne designed my first two books.  I’m in good hands.

So, that’s what’s been going on with me.

I’ve missed you guys. I hope you’re still within earshot (you know what I mean). We have a lot of catching up to do. I’ll be sure to touch base weekly bi-weekly more often.

I hope you’re all well. Drop me a line and let me know what you’re up to.

I’m all ears.

~Kimberly

Bear With Me…

Okay, so this blogging thing is still new to me. I’m trying to understand all that is available here and since I’m not technically proficient (yet), it might take some time. So, you might not see many pictures or you’ve probably already noticed different fonts for each entry.  In short, it’s a work in progress.

We went out with a few couples to dinner the other night and I mentioned that I had started a blog. In true male fashion, before any alcohol was consumed, the guys immediately started with juvenile potty talk:

Really? I just dropped a blog before I got here. 

I’m going to drop a blog right after dinner.

If the food’s not good, I’m gonna blog all over the table.

Our landscaping friend said he wanted to start a blog too. He’ll call it “Mulch…I put that shit on everything.”

Just gives you an idea of the kind of support I’m getting. Can you feel my pain?

There are a lot of us out there. And I will do my best to differentiate myself from the hordes of people vying for your time. I’m still ironing out my plan, but I am confident this will be an entertaining venue.

I can’t stress enough how much I appreciate you stopping by. I hope you leave with something more than you came with and that you visit again. And let me know where you are. I’ll do the same.

In the meantime, onward I go. Wish me luck.

Kim