Blessings in the presence of a thief

Being constantly aware is how I've chosen to approach this stage of my life where everything feels transitional. My oldest has started driving and recently had her first job interview. She's talking more and more about her future as the second half of her high school career commences this fall. My youngest is now in middle school, a little child no longer. Like my oldest, she exudes social energy, and our house is a way station for the girls' friends from around town. The activities have increased and our door doesn't stay closed long. Practices, competitions and social functions fill up our calendar faster than a brisk, spring wind. Despite all of that, I've found an unexpected surprise. A byproduct of what feels like a new stage of life, if you will. It's time for Betsy and me. Time for walks and dinner. Time for watching TV on the couch. Time for projects, for generally just being together. It's wonderful. We've been a family-centric unit since we became parents. This heightened about seven years ago, when we moved to a new state. Like everyone, we faced the COVID era nine months later, and we had to lean on our togetherness. Everything we did was done in groupthink. Our calendar? It was work, then our kids. Our friends? People we met through our children's various activities, which as you can remember, ground to a halt for a good little bit there. We continue to put our kids first. We run around chasing them like balloons in the gentle wind. We continue to make great connections with the people in similar spheres to us. At this moment, thank goodness, our kids are well. They have friends, and often time, social plans that don't involve us. My oldest goes to dinner with her crew nearly every weekend, most of these outings winding up in our basement. My youngest loves sleepovers and talking on the phone with her friends. It's left Betsy and I with the gift of time. Last Friday felt like we were back on our first date. We went to dinner, went for a walk, got ice cream and watched a show. It was all the more comforting knowing our kids were in good hands and emotionally happy. We've been able to do things with friends more frequently — our kids at an age where we don't have to worry about babysitters. It's a really great time. It's also a marked transition. Betsy and I know our future is filled with more time — more than we'll ever want. Those nights featuring teenage laughter emanating from our basement will slide away like a change in season, but this time an ethereal summer that will never return. Soon enough, we'll have endless time for dates, for making adult connections and the ability to make travel plans without being dictated by school and activity calendars. Isn't there a dash of bittersweet with every stage? For me, it's just about being present. Try as I might, I can't fight time. If I could, I would have tacked on a couple of hours of sleep this past weekend, instead of losing one. Grace through life's seasons is something I long to possess. I also attempt to see the good in situations, and right now I'm enjoying this unexpected blessing of time with my best friend. Even if it's in the presence of the world's biggest thief. Jeremy Speer is the publisher of The Courier in Findlay, the Sandusky Register, The Advertiser-Tribune in Tiffin, the Norwalk Reflector and Review Times in Fostoria. He can be reached at jeremyspeer@thecourier.com.