Is it just me or does the end of summer feel like a death? It’s always been that way to me. The end of free spiriting, lazy long days, junk food and no rules. As we say goodbye to this season of sunshine, we re-enter our world of schedules, timelines, obligations, and focus. I don’t want to! I’m not ready. In fact, I never am.
As a kid I would procrastinate as summer came to a close, trying my hardest to not deal with the sad reality of it all. It wasn’t that I didn’t like school or the sports I played because, I did love that too. It was closing the door on the endless possibilities that always have made summer so magical. That was the hard part for me.
I’d like to say I’ve grown up and out of this phase but, I am pretty sure I never will. Instead, as my kids are faced with heading back to school, putting shoes back on and no longer eating ice cream for dinner, I understand their pain only all too well. In fact, I definitely feed into it and am probably the worst person to help them refocus and return to ‘school mode’. When I step back and look at things, I don’t feel guilty (like I usually do as a mom) for encouraging them to rebel at the idea of returning to ‘reality’.
In fact, I take it as a sign that I am giving them everything that summer should be. Everything that I was so incredibly fortunate to have as a kid and everything that makes letting it go that much more difficult. Dirty feet, scraped legs, wet hair, sandy beds, exhausted bodies, lifelong friendships and family bonds that will last forever. Everything that summer should be and more. Magical. Impossible to let go of. Painful, like a piece of yourself dying.
At the end of the day, I suppose that’s what allows summer to be so special; the fact that it doesn’t last forever.