My ninth graders are wrapping up their exams. I have almost finished packing up my classroom. I have flurries of papers throughout the room. Waning stacks of books on varying shelves. A gnome head flower pot stuffed with pens.

I’m almost done for the year.

If anything, in 72 hours from right now, the students will be loading onto busses. They will drive off into their respective sunsets and for ten glorious weeks, I am going to….

Write.

Read.

Build Lego sets.

Rebuild my deck.

Revise.

Edit.

Send mansucripts out for publication.

Breathe.

Plan lessons.

Build lesson activities.

Hike

Garden.

Mow my lawn.

Sit behind my desk and stare at the world and relish the sun filtering over my front yard.

I’m sitting at my teacher desk and my students are all sitting at their desks and their exams are in varying stages of completion and I’m relishing this moment. So close to being done. Another year ticked off. A year of grief and pain and healing and not healing and self relization and self actualization and learning. So much learning. From books and students and my colleagues and my family and my glorious therapist.

I’m ready for this summer because I have plans that have no shape or timeline. I am not going on vacation. I will be my own vacation. I will travel within myself and explore the nuances of who I am and who I want to be. And I’m going to thrive.

I fear writing these words. A year ago, I had the same plans. The same determinations. And then the phone rang and I learned Peter was in hospice care. And the summer just stopped. It was a summer of waiting. A summer of reconciling myself to so many regrets. And I fear that this will happen again. A loved family member. A loved friend. Hell. One of my dogs.

I fear the loss that is inevitable. I fear the cold numbness that slackened my muscles and stiffened my bones.

I’m trying so hard to live again. To write journal entries and poetry and creative fiction daily. To read books, whether it’s just good old fun books to literary fiction that I might teach or might teach me something to creative writing instruction books. I want to be more than just a bystander. Maybe I’ll take time each day and go on YouTube and watch videos about different countries that I’ll never see. And then, maybe I’ll start breaking down each country into segments and learn more about the individual cultures and tribes and communities. Because there’s so much out there that I want to see and learn about and understand.

This is my summer of learning. Not just living or growing 2026. But to learn and feed my curiosity.