Final day of school yesterday. A 60-year-old school is dead. It was a rough day, which has now led into a rough morning due to celebratory aspects that kind of took on the feel of a post-funeral party: the grief starts to wear off with the help of alcohol and friends. I'm glad it's over. Just as the last day kind of felt like a funeral, the past two months have kind of felt like the last stages of a terminal illness. It's time to move on.
All along, I told my kids that it wasn't a big deal, that in the grand scheme they were quite lucky (aye, even blessed): they have a large family that loves them, they're healthy, their parents aren't divorced, their father has a good job, all four grandparents are alive and well, etc. But at times, I wasn't sure I believed it myself. After the party last night, I came home and flipped through channels (drunk channel driving, which I think is a crime only in Utah). I came across a program that briefly dramatized the terror and upheaval civilians undergo when their country is invaded. I thought, "Now that's sad, a true disruption of one's life. But kids survive it and even thrive later in life. This whole school thing is a petty disruption by comparison." I knew it all along, but it took the television set and the calming influence of beer to bring it home. I then went to bed and slept well (disrupted only by subtle debates in my semi-conscious mind: do I get up and grab aspirin or just wait until I wake up at my normal time? I waited).
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Saturday BYCU: The Belmont's version of the mint julep. I get the impression, though, that this is a recent concoction, with about as much tradition as soccer in Detroit. It's a pretty drink, but I seriously doubt it merits a parallel with the Kentucky Derby and mint julep.
