I’m always a little sad to see Summer go.  Ok I’m a lot sad.  I love the time around late May; just in between Memorial Day and the beginning of June.  School is just about to let out, and it seems like June, July and August will be such a long, fun-filled time.

There’s the planning part that makes everything so adventurous.  Museums that we want to visit and good fishing holes that need to be tested are discussed. Saltwater, freshwater, types of fishing bait, and the infamous, “Mom!  My line is tangled again!”, are part of the summertime daily chat.  There are also the “Where are my goggles?” and “Has anyone seen my swim suit?” questions that reverberate throughout the house.  The smell of sunscreen and the bright sunny forecast start our day off happy.

Random trips to the neighborhood pool are followed by a quick trip for snow cones which then turn into lazy, hot evenings of just taking our time.  There are no schedules, except for the neighborhood swim team practice.  There are no tests, projects, or last minute homework.  There are no lunches to pack; my personal favorite!

Simple things during this season make ordinary life so special. A quick visit to see family, collecting sea shells, making minnow traps, treating a sun burn, and taking the long way home help fashion a sense of timelessness.

A walk into a store in early July, however,  brings a blissful summer day back to reality.  Backpacks, school supply displays, and signs shouting “Back to School” make my stomach turn.  It’s barely July 4th and school is already being thrown in our faces.  And to add to the melee, Christmas decorations begin making their unwelcome appearance in some stores.  I would rather deal with backpacks than pre lit trees in 95 degree heat! I tell my kids to turn their heads; we don’t want to witness this jarring reality check.  I especially want to enjoy this time with them keep them away from what inevitably will happen; each child turning a year older and getting closer to leaving home.

August arrives with full speed.  Teacher assignments are received in the mail and I begin to plan for the school year ahead of us.  My oldest will enter middle school and begin a new chapter in his life, and I will unenthusiastically pack those darn lunches.  Buses will start showing up on our street, and crossing guards will make their appearance at the same street corner as the year before.  I’m clinging to my Summer memories, not ready to make new ones for this pending season of change.

The Fall season is now replacing Summer, and I am forced to look at pumpkins lining grocery store entrances.  Labor Day has come and gone, and soon Christmas sales will suffocate an already diminishing Thanksgiving holiday.

Somewhere I think I hear a fishing pole calling our names…I’m ready to go back.