The Summer That Wasn’t.

Summer is almost over, and I’m left wondering where it went. Not in the dreamy “time flies when you’re having fun” way, but in the “I barely lived it at all” way. As a parent, I can’t shake the math: I only have a few summers left where my kids actually want to spend them with me. And I wasted one. I feel like I barely showed up for it.

We had plans. Pretty good ones actually. The kind you imagine in January when the snow is piled high and you swear you’ll make every warm day count. But we didn’t do enough of the things. We didn’t go to the places. We barely left the house most days.

Maybe it’s because it’s hard to enjoy a twist cone when the world feels like it’s falling apart. I’ve spent so much of this season worried — about my business, the businesses I love and frequent, the people in our community. Everywhere I look, someone is either losing everything, cheering for someone else’s loss, or pretending nothing is wrong. It’s exhausting. And it made this summer feel… heavy.

So yeah. This summer wasn’t the best. And that stings — not because I think every summer needs to be Insta-worthy, but because I can’t get this one back. It’s in our rearview now. But I can learn from it.

I can decide that the next chapter will be different. That the transition into this new school year — new high school for my oldest, middle school for my youngest — will mark the start of a more intentional season for all of us. I can keep building my business. Keep hunting for the right projects and the right clients. Keep showing up for my family, my work, and my community, even when the world feels like it’s burning.

Summer may have slipped through my fingers. But I’m holding on tight to what’s next.