BoomerGirl Diary

It’s almost May and we got nothing. I mean no graduations, no senior recitals, no family reunions, no summer weddings. I’m not sure what to do with myself. Usually I’m planning, and planning upcoming events. I do have a few things to look forward to. Well, I wouldn’t go that far, maybe more accurately things to do and dread.

There’s the end of the semester move and clean up. Like clockwork, the college student moves from one apartment to another, always moving up. Sure. I’m calculating the refund. Let’s see, do we have a chance to make the walls look good enough? Or will that cost us $25? I remember the great idea of replacing the Venetian blinds before the landlord could charge $50. Where do they get these numbers anyhow?

I visited Arna in Iowa City, anticipating the June move out. I looked critically at the oven—2 hours to get that clean. We’ll probably need to vacuum three or four times and then shampoo the rug everywhere. It’s all much easier after we’ve removed all the furniture. Now there’s a back ache to anticipate. I see the whole experience as a marathon. Two or three days of hard work (a case of diet coke), cleaning, lifting, backing up the car, filling it up, driving to an apartment (dream on). Then we’ll rent the store-and-lock and move it all in.

“This time let’s get plenty of boxes and put everything in boxes…Then it’ll be easier during part two—moving stuff from store and lock to new, improved apartment.”

I looked around the apartment dubiously. What about that old table?

“You think we can get rid of some of this junk before you move it all again?”

“Mom, you always say stuff like that when I move. I need all this stuff.”

“Maybe your next apartment is a lot smaller…Have you checked?...It would be a shame to move a bunch of stuff that would just crowd up your new place.”

I look directly at a very heavy table.

“I’ll look into it.”

“How much is the deposit anyhow? Do you have a checklist from when you moved in? What happened to the shelf in the refrigerator?”

“Mom, that’s too many questions. I don’t know. I’m trying to study chemistry. When are you leaving anyhow?”

“Well, I assume that I can’t leave town until after we go spend a fortune at Target, eat several meals at the most expensive restaurants, and after I don’t get to meet your friends.”

“Mom …”

“Just kidding.”

“Could we stop at Borders, too?”

“I hope lots of these cars in your parking lot will be gone if we have to rent a U-Haul again. It’s so much easier. We need to be careful though. Bob doesn’t want to drive that huge one again.”

So I returned to Lawrence to worry about June and schedule the traditional big moving around stuff from one place to another. I then began to worry about family vacations and trips in the summer. Meanwhile, I just wish there was one big event to focus on. I’ve planned graduation parties including one with dozens of White Castles. I’ve helped plan weddings including the entrance of the dog as best man. I’ve planned many big events so where’s the one for this year?

I remember two years ago one of our kids was getting married and I was planning the rehearsal dinner invitations. The nicest guy at Kinkos and I had a big meeting to discuss appropriate wording, maps, and final details for an invitation that had to go out in two days flat. I remember making plans for 10 nephews and nieces who were attending their cousin’s wedding. We hired teenagers to help us. We bowled, we swam, and we did soccer workouts at the local elementary school. All planning and so sweet when it works out. Here I’m sitting with an empty note pad and I decided that the Chocolate Chex were so good, at least the chocolate ones were. I dumped out most of the box and ate all the chocolate ones, returning the plain old chex. Later I waited to see if Bob would notice.

“They sure don’t put many chocolate chex in here.”

“Yeah," I said too quickly.

“Wait a minute… that’s so unfair.”

“We need an event…something really fun to think about, right here, right now.”

“Hey, I was enjoying the off year until you ate all the chocolate chex ... just tell me are there any other surprises?”

“No. Arna’s moving at the end of June. So start working out. Nothing else besides a family trip to Okaboji, which better be nice because based on your childhood experience we are all going there.”

“I never said it was so great.”

“Well, you didn’t complain and you went there as a teenager.”

“My parents let me bring my girlfriend, totally chaperoned every minute, but still…”

“You know when the last time was that nobody graduated, or got married in late May or summer?”

“This is tough. I’m getting way too much sleep. I’m not sure Arna even has a serious girlfriend. And he is a little vague about graduation. Next year at least our daughter-in-law gets her masters. A graduation, next year for sure.”

Bob looks up from the newspaper puzzled. I think to myself. It’s like everybody is suddenly in a holding pattern: living in a permanent residences and working at real jobs. It’s shocking actually.

Then Langston calls from Derby. Kansas, where’s he’s a teacher, “Hey, I’m teaching in band camp in Lawrence. My landlord is selling my house so is it okay if I stay there during June?”

“Sure. Nobody’s getting married or graduating.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“Nothing. Just thought I’d mention it…”

It used to be so interesting with all the kids and my niece. They took all these courses; they changed their minds and their friends. They all went on great trips. They lived in many, many apartments and houses. They bought all kinds of heavy appliances. They bought new couches. I would come over and see the various purchases, the moves. Now I notice it’s just the same old house, same old couch, and same old Venetian blinds. The new rug is getting older and the dogs are all full grown. Even their tricks are getting old.

If my kids are getting older, what’s that make me? I call up Arna and ask him what classes he’s taking.

“I’ve got some bad news for you mom. My car got towed. At first I thought it was stolen and I went into a panic.”

“You didn’t tell Bob, did you?”

“I had to. I couldn’t get you. It was his idea that it was all the tickets.”

“So did you get it back?”

“Yeah, I’m getting it tomorrow. I’m really sorry. It’s going to cost some money…”

“Just don’t do it again. And quit getting tickets. You’ve got to be more careful.”

The next day I called Arna to tell him that a recording had called us 6 times to tell us that he should be on “Hawk alert” for a tornado.

“They called me too, I’m on it. But I was getting ready to call you. I ran out of contacts. I think two pairs melted in the car. Anyhow, I’m desperate. Will you get me some contacts?”

“Sure, I’ve got nothing going. You’ll get them tomorrow.”

“Mom, are you mad?”

“Sure, but that’s okay. I’ll still send them. Take cover during the tornado. Call me when it’s over. By the way, find out about your lease. I want to see how much the deposit was before we do all that work.”

“Don’t tell Dad until the last minute, but my new apartment is on the third floor.”

“And I’ll bet it doesn’t take dogs. He’ll be more upset about that. Cassie (remember your dog) is getting weirder every day. It takes ten minutes to get her out from under the bed.”

“Got to go, mom. Thanks.”

Life goes on. Maybe next year somebody will get a new dog or graduate or even buy a new house. All is quiet and slowly moving forward.

Meanwhile I break the news to Bob, “If I were you I’d start getting in shape now for Arna’s move in June…”

“No, no. It’s not on the third floor.”

“Sorry. How about if I buy two boxes of Chocolate Chex. Would that help?”