It’s been kind of a crummy week around here. The kind that tempts you to wallow in woe.
Schedules didn’t align exactly as I’d hoped, so my children have been gone for 13 of the past 14 days.
In the middle of that, the air conditioner stopped working — not during the blessed dip in temperatures but just after, when real summer returned.
A dear friend is in the middle of a crisis, one without an easy answer.
Grump, grump, grump.
After a middling amount of complaining, there’s not much to do but move on and seek a grateful attitude.
Last week, Cooper and Katie flew by themselves to Washington, D.C., to visit their uncle so that I could attend an education conference in San Antonio.
I’m thankful that they felt comfortable flying without an adult. That their uncle joyfully takes a week of vacation to care for them. That they were able to ride roller coasters at Hersheypark, explore Gettysburg and visit multiple museums in our nation’s capital.
We all arrived back in Frisco in time to spend a day together, and then they were off again, this time to a weeklong sleepaway camp in East Texas.
I check the camp website daily for photo updates, and from what I can spy, Cooper and Katie show no signs of homesickness. They appear independent and engaged. That’s the whole goal of parenting, right? To help grow little people into secure big people who can handle daily life on their own?
I’m thankful that they have found a camp that they enjoy and want to return to every summer. I’m thankful that they are gaining new skills and meeting new people, without the aid of a single electronic device.
My big plans for this week centered on massive, long-overdue house projects. My closet is a disaster. The playroom needs organizing. I’m behind on filing. The garage needs some serious pruning.
I woke Monday ready to attack. The house had other plans.
The thermostat at 7 a.m. showed 79 degrees. Upon further investigation, I discovered the giant air-conditioning unit behind the house wasn’t running.
The trouble — the expensive trouble — was diagnosed late Monday. The inside temperature was 85 and rising.
No amount of determination will help overcome sweltering inside conditions. My big decluttering plans were begrudgingly put on hold.
It takes some work to find gratitude when you’re hot, facing a giant bill and letting go of goals.
And yet, I’m thankful for my savings account, which allowed me to pay cash for the repair. I’m thankful that I have plenty of friends who offered cooler shelter. I’m thankful that while I was escaping my house I was able to watch two movies in a blissfully air-conditioned theater, renew my driver’s license and finally deliver the minivan to the dealership for a safety recall.
I didn’t meet my original goals, but time wasn’t wasted.
I spent some of that time on the phone with a long-distance friend who’s facing the biggest struggle of her life. I’ve listened as she debriefs, formulates steps for moving forward and somehow finds humor in despair.
I’m devastated for her. But I’m thankful that even with distance we can connect. That she’s found the strength to wake up each day. That we could talk about the value of a human: You aren’t defined by your spouse or your children or your job. Your value is independent of all others, rooted in your faith and in your character.
I needed that discussion as a gentle reminder that character includes how you react to disappointment and to plans that change. That character includes expressing gratitude all the time — especially when instinct pushes toward discontent.
Tyra Damm is a Briefing columnist. Email her at firstname.lastname@example.org.