Eighteen summers. This is a mantra we repeat often in our house, eighteen summers. That is the number of summers we have with our children before they are leaving for school, jobs, or life. I am lucky I have had all eighteen years. So many of my friends never had eighteen years with their children. Cancers and accidents left them with only a few years. I am fortunate. I have had all eighteen.
When the children were little I swore eighteen summers would last forever. It seemed like we had so much time to do it all. Now I only think it is far too short.
I shared earlier this week that a friend from back home lost her daughter in a senseless act of violence this week. I think of that often right now. Rochester like so many other places are being enveloped with violence on the streets. It is no longer in the shadows of the night but right in the middle of the afternoon with lots of people around. Every single day this seems to be happening. The saddest thing is that it is in so many areas. We live in a small “city” less than 10,000 people but by our state standards we are a city. The next city over is a bit smaller at 9,800 people. There are shootings there weekly now. It breaks my heart that it is so many young people under 25 that are dying.