You Felt It Too, Right? The Air Shifted. And Someone Graduated.
This past Memorial Day weekend felt like the season quietly announced itself. No fireworks. No big reveal. Just a soft whisper. You made it. Let’s go.
And even if you didn’t have big plans. Even if you were still working. Folding laundry. Helping your mom AirDrop blurry graduation photos. The feeling was already there. You felt it in your body. That shift. That deep immigrant radar that’s tuned to seasons, sales, and survival.
If you’re like me. If you grew up in a Russian-speaking home. Maybe in Brooklyn or somewhere close to it. Summer wasn’t just a season. It was a whole operation. Your parents packed up the entire fridge into the back of a Nissan and drove two hours just to get some fresh air at the dacha. The borscht in the trunk, still warm when you left the house, turned into semi-warm soup water by the time you hit the Verrazano. And you. You were in the back seat, slumped like a stray cat and an overfed dog, stuck between a watermelon and a cousin who always fell asleep on you. But you both needed a rest stop just as badly as your parents needed to stop yelling. Or singing.
Because that’s how those drives went. One minute your parents were arguing about which turn they missed. The next they were vibing to Ace of Base and Boney M like it was 2000 all over again. You just sat there, window cracked, hoping someone brought a snack that wasn’t pickled. And just when it started to feel calm, your dad, who ate a full plate of pelmeni before leaving, let out a deep burp that shook the car like thunder. Everyone scrambled to open the windows. People were yelling at Papa. He was cracking up, saying, why did you give me ginger ale with those. It’s giving me gases. While your mom rolled her eyes and threatened to walk the rest of the way.
Back then we thought we knew what made us happy. Flip-flops. Cousins. A Game Boy with no sound. Salad Olivye for the third day in a row. But now.
Now I get it. Now I know joy feels like soft clothes. Shorts that don’t quite match. Sunglasses that sit a little off center. Warm weather. An iced coffee or a peach Snapple in your hand and nowhere urgent to be. That’s it. That’s the whole thing.
And if your Fourth of July plans aren’t set yet. Don’t stress. Some of us have it blocked off in our heads already. We know there will be grilled meat. Someone yelling about real estate. And watermelon that tastes like 1997. You don’t need a big trip. You just need a moment to breathe. Sit outside. Call a cousin. Text someone you miss.
To everyone graduating right now. College. High school. Nursing school. Or just graduating from a tough season of life. Mazel tov. I see you. I’m proud of you. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. This is the time we start getting ready for the summer ahead. Not just what we are doing. But how we are feeling. And maybe for once, we give ourselves permission to feel good.
This past weekend was the reminder. That summer doesn’t need to be a production. It just needs to be real. Yours. A little messy. Full of grilled veggies. Overcooked chicken. And people you love. Or at least tolerate with a smile.
To every immigrant kid who used to translate phone bills. Who printed out MapQuest directions for a 40 minute drive to a cousin’s house. Who packed their summers in plastic bags from Brighton Bazaar. Rest in peace. Who never had time to sit still. I’m saying it now. It’s okay.
It’s okay to rest.
It’s okay to plan.
It’s okay to just be.
You made it.
Happy summer my loves. Let’s make it sweet.
Love,
Garik 💙
Share this with someone who just graduated. Or someone who grew up printing MapQuest directions. An eighties or nineties baby. One of us.
If you enjoyed this article, it would mean the world if you shared it with anyone you think might relate. Life is short. And like many people say. If you can shift your life even ten percent toward thinking better and feeling healthier, it creates a chain reaction. For you and for everyone around you.