The Summer I Planned to Do Everything… and Somehow Did Almost None of It

It’s been a while.

I had every intention of coming into this year focused, organized, productive, and ready to take on everything I had written down in my planner.

And then life happened.

The new year came with a pang I wasn’t expecting. In the middle of January, I lost one of my favorite aunties. She was such a beautiful soul, and losing her left a space that I am still learning how to live around.

A cherished photo of my beautiful aunt, whose presence is deeply missed but whose love and memories remain with us always.

Grief is funny like that.

You can be perfectly fine one minute, handling business, laughing, teaching, creating, and checking things off your list. Then a memory, a song, a picture, or even a random thought can stop you in your tracks.

So there I was, trying to grieve the loss of someone I loved while also being introduced to what I like to call my new twin: perimenopause.

Baby…

Nobody told me she was moving in, bringing luggage, rearranging the furniture, touching the thermostat, disturbing my sleep, changing my body, playing with my emotions, and apparently refusing to pay rent.

So by the time summer arrived, I was READY.

Picture of me before the school year ended.

In my mind, summer vacation was going to be my reset.

I was going to organize everything.

Work on my businesses.

Create new products.

Clean out things I had been putting off.

Work on myself.

Rest.

Exercise.

Catch up on projects.

Get my life completely together.

You know…the usual unrealistic summer list we make when we suddenly believe having a few weeks off means we have 47 extra hours every day.

I actually started on the right foot.

One of the first things I did was schedule all of my doctor’s appointments.

Look at me being responsible!

Primary care? Mammogram? Dentist? Menopause management? Scheduled.

Appointments I had been putting off? Scheduled.

Things I knew I needed to finally address? On the calendar.

I was feeling accomplished.

I thought, “Okay, girl. This is your summer. We are getting things DONE.”

And then life changed the itinerary.

When Your Parent Becomes the One Who Needs You

My mom has been sick since February, but the minute school ended, she became sicker.

And to be completely transparent, watching your mother become ill hits differently.

My mom has always been a force to be reckoned with.

Strong.

Independent.

Determined.

The kind of woman who handled things.

Picture of my mom and me.

So watching her health shift almost overnight has been difficult in ways I wasn’t prepared for.

There is something deeply emotional about looking at the person who has always seemed so strong and realizing that now she needs you to be strong for her.

Some days, I handle it well.

Other days?

Not so much.

I have also learned something very important about myself this summer:

There is a reason I did not go to nursing school.

To every nurse, doctor, CNA, wound care specialist, medical assistant, home health worker, caregiver, and anyone else working in healthcare…

THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE.

Because listen.

I am a complete wimp when it comes to certain things.

Taking my mom’s glucose?

My stomach: absolutely not.

Cleaning her wound?

My entire soul wants to leave my body.

Meanwhile, my mother is probably looking at me like, “Ma’am, pull yourself together.”

But here is what I discovered.

While I may not be the best nurse, I am a relentless advocate.

I can call the doctors.

I can ask questions.

I can send messages.

I can follow up.

I can challenge something that doesn’t sound right.

I can ask for another option.

I can request a referral.

And I will absolutely make sure my mother’s concerns are heard.

That part?

I can do that.

And I’ve been doing plenty of it.

Trying to get my mom into a wound care center has practically become my full-time summer job.

Calls.

Appointments.

Insurance.

Referrals.

Follow-ups.

More calls.

Waiting.

Calling again.

Talking to one office that tells you to call another office, only for that office to tell you that you need something from the first office.

If you know, YOU KNOW.

There were days when I looked at my original summer plans and just laughed.

Not because they weren’t important.

But because suddenly, they weren’t the most important thing.

Picture of my mom in one of the hospital visits this summer.

The Summer That Didn’t Go According to Plan

I used to feel bad when I didn’t complete everything on my list.

I would look at unfinished projects and think,

“You had all summer.”

“You should have done more.”

“You wasted time.”

But I’m learning to challenge that kind of thinking.

Because did I really do “nothing?”

No.

Maybe I didn’t accomplish everything I intended.

But I showed up for my mom.

I advocated for her.

I helped manage appointments.

I asked questions.

I kept pushing when something wasn’t moving fast enough.

I also continued managing my own health.

I continued navigating grief.

I continued trying to understand this new season of womanhood called perimenopause.

I continued being a business owner.

A teacher.

A daughter.

A friend.

A woman trying to figure it all out.

And somewhere along the way, I realized something.

Sometimes productivity doesn’t look like launching the new collection.

Sometimes productivity looks like sitting in a doctor’s office.

Sometimes success isn’t checking off ten items on your planner.

Sometimes success is getting through a difficult day without falling completely apart.

Sometimes taking care of your family is the assignment.

Giving Myself Grace

This summer has forced me to slow down in ways I didn’t necessarily choose.

And I am still learning how to be okay with that.

Because I am naturally someone who wants to accomplish things.

I have ideas.

Goals.

Projects.

Dreams.

Businesses I want to grow.

Things I want to create.

But life occasionally reminds us that we are human before we are productive.

And this summer, I needed that reminder.

I needed to understand that rest doesn’t have to be earned.

That grief doesn’t follow a schedule.

That caregiving can be exhausting.

That perimenopause apparently has absolutely no respect for anybody’s plans.

And that sometimes you have to adjust your expectations without abandoning your dreams.

My goals are still there.

My ideas are still there.

The things I wanted to accomplish didn’t disappear.

They may just happen on a different timeline.

And I’m learning that a delayed goal is not a failed goal.

So What Did I Do This Summer?

Maybe not everything I planned.

But I loved.

I advocated.

I learned.

I cried.

I laughed.

I made phone calls.

A LOT of phone calls.

I spent time with my mom.

I learned more about healthcare than I ever wanted to know.

I took care of some of my own health needs.

I navigated grief.

I navigated perimenopause.

And somehow, through all of it, I kept moving.

Not perfectly.

Not always gracefully.

But I kept moving.

And maybe that is enough.

So if you had a summer where you planned to reinvent yourself, organize your entire house, start five projects, exercise every morning, drink a gallon of water, become financially free, launch a business, declutter your closet, travel, meal prep, read twelve books, and somehow emerge as a completely new woman…

…and instead life handed you something completely different…

Give yourself some grace.

You didn’t fail.

Maybe this season simply required something else from you.

As for me?

I’m still creating.

Still dreaming.

Still advocating.

Still adjusting to my new twin, perimenopause.

Still missing my auntie.

Still praying for my mom.

But somewhere in the middle of all the appointments, phone calls, caregiving, worry, and responsibilities, I was blessed with a little room to breathe.

I was able to get away for four days and attend my very first Boulé with my sorority, Sigma Gamma Rho Sorority, Inc.

And let me tell you: I needed those four days more than I realized.

For a few days, I was able to step away from being the caregiver, the advocate, the teacher, the business owner, and the woman trying to hold everything together.

I got to simply be Natacha.

I laughed.

I dressed up.

I fellowshipped with my Sorors.

I celebrated our sisterhood.

I made memories.

And I allowed myself to enjoy the moment without feeling guilty about everything waiting for me back home.

There was something special about being surrounded by women, sisterhood, history, service, and joy during a season when life had felt so heavy.

My first Boulé reminded me that even while you are carrying difficult things, you are still allowed to experience joy.

Picture of me while walking to the Tampa Convention Center.

You are still allowed to laugh.

You are still allowed to get dressed up and feel beautiful.

You are still allowed to make memories.

You are still allowed to pour a little something back into yourself.

Those four days didn’t erase what I had been dealing with, and they didn’t magically make everything easier when I returned home.

But they gave me something I desperately needed:

A moment to exhale.

And maybe that was another lesson this summer had for me.

Sometimes the break comes in the middle of the storm; not after everything is fixed.

Sometimes God gives you a little pocket of joy right in the middle of the chaos to remind you that life is still happening, and there is still goodness to be found.

So no, this summer did not look anything like the one I planned.

I didn’t check off every box.

I didn’t finish every project.

I didn’t accomplish everything on my summer list.

But I cared for my mother.

I advocated.

I grieved.

I took care of myself.

I navigated perimenopause.

I experienced my first Boulé.

I celebrated sisterhood.

I found moments of joy in the middle of a difficult season.

And most importantly, I learned to give myself grace.

So here’s to the summers that don’t look anything like we imagined.

The ones that stretch us.

The ones that humble us.

The ones that make us rearrange our priorities.

The ones that remind us who and what truly matter.

And the ones that somehow, in the middle of everything, still give us a reason to smile.

This wasn’t the summer I planned; but maybe it was the summer I needed.

And still learning that life does not have to go according to plan for it to still have purpose.

Here’s to the summers that didn’t look anything like what I imagined; but taught me exactly what I  needed to learn.