Publisher’s Porch: Three minutes to spare

Welcome back to the porch! There are weekends when Sunday night arrives and you’re not entirely sure how you got there.

This was one of those weekends for our family.

Friday was homecoming, and when the person who was supposed to drive the hockey team’s float unexpectedly got pulled away to help somewhere else, I somehow ended up behind the wheel. Saturday brought a hockey game, followed by homecoming pictures and the dance. Sunday brought another hockey game and a birthday party for Madison, who turned 13.

Thirteen.

I’m not sure how that happened so fast, either.

For her birthday, Maddi wanted to do an escape room. So Sunday afternoon, she and her friends were locked in a room and given an hour to figure their way out.

They escaped with three minutes to spare.

Which, after this weekend, felt like a pretty good description of our entire family.

October always seems particularly determined to cram three months of life into 31 days. There are practices, games, school events, birthdays, meetings, and work. Somewhere in there, we occasionally remember to eat.

But this weekend also reminded me that a lot of the things making life so crazy right now are the things I’m going to miss someday.

Saturday, my wife and I joined other families to take pictures of our kids before homecoming. Landyn was there with his girlfriend, his best friend, Austin, and  Austin’s girlfriend. Then, less than 24 hours later, I watched Maddi and her friends celebrate her becoming a teenager. Watching them together, I thought about how lucky we are that our kids have found good people to go through these years with.

I’ve never been particularly good at sitting still, so the packed calendar isn’t exactly something I can complain about. I like the running around. I like having somewhere to be and something going on.

But this kind of busy is different.

The hockey bags, homecoming pictures, birthday parties, and weekends planned around where the kids need to be won’t last forever.

In fact, those weekends are probably coming to an end faster than I want to admit.

A few weeks ago, I wrote in this space about one of the most important things my dad taught me: showing up.

This weekend, I thought about that again.

Sometimes showing up means being there when life is hard. But most of the time, it’s much less dramatic than that. It’s driving the float. Sitting at the rink or volleyball game. Taking the homecoming pictures. Watching ten teenagers escape a locked room with three minutes to spare.

It’s being there for the ordinary stuff that, if you’re lucky, eventually becomes the stuff you remember.

So, yes, life is a little crazy right now.

I’m going to keep showing up for it.