No! SUMMER CANNOT BE OVER YET! It absolutely may not end!!!
I know I write this exact same column every single year, yet I have these exact
same emotions every single year. August
turns into September and then into October long before I am ready to give up
July.
“Wait!” I want to shout.
“This mom is just getting into the swing of things. I am finally
accustomed to swimming and vacationing and reading without any schedule. I am
finally adjusting to meals on the fly and sudden trips to the library. I am
acclimated to long, hot, lovely days when flip-flops and shorts will suffice.” And
then, suddenly, those days are over, there is a cool nip in the air, and school
has started. It just isn’t fair.
I’m sorry. I cannot readjust my life that quickly. It is
impossible to morph overnight from a summer-silly-fun mom to a September-school-strict
mom who puts children to bed at 8 o’clock when the sun is still above the
horizon and there is daylight to enjoy! I cannot—in my rightful mind—get little
students up at 6am to catch the bus after weeks of summer sleeping in. I cannot
suddenly tell my children to put a book down and start their homework. Or come
in from the swing set to work on a math assignment. I cannot say goodbye to the
marshmallow roasts and hikes in the sunshine and bike rides on the trail. I
cannot.
No. Don’t make me admit that there is change in the air.
That fall is inevitable. And whatever you do, absolutely, positively do NOT
show me an orange-gold pumpkin. Not in the fields, not on the neighbor’s
doorstep. Don’t you dare put up Halloween decorations in the stores. I don’t
want leaf wreaths or yellowed stalks of grain. Don’t say the word
“Jack-o-lantern” or show me a black cat or an apple pie. I only want summer.
Pink and orange and green and brilliant summer. Fun, carefree,
no-responsibility summer. That’s still me.
Just give me one more week without homework and bus
schedules and supply lists. Give me a few more days without lunches to pack and
schedules to keep. Let me buy some more time to eat picnics and run through
sprinklers. We still have a thousand movies to watch and a million books to
read on our summer “to-do” lists. Please…hold back time for this muddled mother.
But then it happened. Despite my groanings and murmurings
and pleadings, the school bus showed up on the first day of school. My children
(bless their hearts) were actually happy to put on their new tennis shoes. They
donned their fresh backpacks and—swinging their new lunchboxes—said goodbye to
me as they left, without even looking over their shoulders. My heart crumbled.
I watched them skip down the street and around the corner, and then I walked back
into an almost empty house and cleaned up the dishes on my own. I did laundry
on my own, and I read a book during the quiet afternoon. I even considered
going outside to harvest some vegetables.
Before I noticed, it was the second week of school. And then
the third, and then the fourth. Now, despite my best rantings, the inevitable fall has crept in around me. Geese are flying overhead, caramel scents and smells are everywhere. At first,
I ignored it. It was easy to pretend that our pumpkins weren’t ripe and we
didn’t need jackets quite yet. I was still in summer mourning.
Then the Saturday soccer games and school field trips started.
And (it’s hard to admit this) after a few golden days I was delighted with autumn
leaves. I actually enjoyed the smell of new pencils and notebooks, and loved the reading homework the teacher sent home.
This week the air was even cooler and as we ate dinner on
the deck (squeezing that last bit of summer from the evening) I looked over and
saw golden red in the trees. Halloween costumes became the dinner conversation
chatter. “This year I’m going to be Cinderella.” “I’ve waited so long to
finally fit the Superman costume.” “My friends and I already planned our
trick-or-treating route.” I finally relented.
“OK!” I called up to the beautiful harvest moon, just rising
over the horizon. “I was still enjoying July and August. But I’ll give up. You
can take summer and I’ll be happy with fall. I actually do love orange and red
and yellow and brown. I’ll be content with lovely jacket Saturdays, with corn at
the farmers’ market, and freshly-pressed grape juice and applesauce on my
counter. I might eventually feel happy to pull the boots from the shelves and
dig the winter coats out of the closet. Ultimately I may even want a good soup on the
stove or a fire crackling on the hearth. Sooner than later I will crave crisp
apple pies. You win, world. I suppose I really do like all of your changes.”
Now the orange pumpkins are everywhere. Now the cornstalks
are dried and decorating the farm fence. Now there is a sweet nip in the
morning air, and we gather a little more closely for family prayer on chilly
mornings. It’s time to stop my summer soliloquy. The lazy days of July and August have turned into golden September, and we are--despite my best hesitations--enjoying this season. Our summer sorrows have turned into
autumn joys.
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