Hey, parents... we survived another back-to-school week! The #2 pencils have been sharpened, the backpacks stuffed, the endless forms filled out and the dreaded uniforms tucked in.
Recently, I was offline for almost two weeks. Though happily disconnected, I was strangely disconcerted, upon my return, to find the virtual world completely intact. On Facebook, Twitter, and beyond, life goes on – with or without you. A person can disappear, then reappear, with no fanfare whatsoever. You just drop off the face of the digital earth . . . then drop back in.
Your weary correspondent is writing to you from the middle of Water Festival. No, I'm not sitting smack dab in the center of Waterfront Park; I'm at my house. But it's Wednesday morning – the festival's halfway point – and I am already very, very tired. Downtown at our office overlooking the park, we've been partying like it's 1999. I was much younger in 1999.
I'm not sure what to say about this summer, except that it's been kind of . . . heavy. People keep dying. My father-in-law. A friend's mother. A couple of folks in my own generation, both with young children at home. I guess this is what happens when you hit middle age; people start shuffling off their mortal coils with alarming regularity. I have to say, it takes some getting used to.
I've barely been in Beaufort this summer. First, my father-in-law's passing in early June took us to California, then we were off to our annual family get-together in Myrtle Beach; and now, I'm writing from my parents' house on the banks of the Tennessee River, near Decatur, AL, where I grew up.