I know summer is coming to an end when we pick up the girls from camp. They’re sad, eat the salami-and-cheese sandwiches I pack for them with a faraway look in their eyes. They’re tired, too, plain ol’ worn out. It’s as if today, this day that we pick them up from camp, all the weight of summer presses on them. Hot and sweaty, thunderheads building. There’s a heaviness about it for all of us.
I remember summer lasted forever when I was a kid. Seems like we never started school until after Labor Day, and here we are, not even halfway into August and the closet holds two bags full of school supplies. I remember Mom making at least a sort of fuss over back-to-school. I remember my school supplies stacked up next to my bed in a tidy pile where for days I could admire the candy-apple red pencil, an oversized one that barely fit your fingers, and a Big Chief tablet.
Mom bought us a few new dresses (or sewed them), a new pair of shoes, and those thin socks that folded at the ankle to show off girly lace. We didn’t get a lot, not even enough for a new outfit each day that first week back, but that was OK. By the second week we were back to all our old clothes anyway.
I went to the mall last Sunday afternoon after dropping off the girls at camp. I wanted to get Dee some black jeans with skinny legs, she’s been asking for them for weeks plus it was tax-free weekend, which seems to function as Pavlov’s bell, we all go out like Night-of-the-Living-Dead zombies to the stores even though the 7% savings barely makes it worth the trouble. But still. I went and ran into the mother of another camper. We laughed and said something like, It’s just plain easier to shop for our kids when we’re without ’em.
We don’t have the exact same rituals to end summer that I had as a kid, but we have some of them. Mine were the school supplies and the few new clothes, plus a sudden interest in cleanliness. Bathing and curling my hair, a new pajama gown, and going to bed when it was still light. Mom and Dad were rigid about school nights. It didn’t matter what Nature had to say; it was time to turn off the sun and get to bed.
I told Em that I wanted to show her how I organized and cleaned her room while she was gone, and when I suggested that we go take a little tour of the drawers and closet, she broke out crying, “Mom, I just want to sit down!” She’s been away two weeks, being back home must be both a relief and a major letdown. Thank goodness she doesn’t start school until Tuesday.
It’s been a humid summer. Jim was saying as we drove back from the mountains that he hasn’t seen clouds like these, so many and for so many days, since he was a kid. These are the summer days from our youth, thick air, a hot that makes you sweat inside even, swamp coolers don’t work well in humidity. But a coolness this morning. I’ve been using the quilt in addition to the sheet, and even when I went to Trader Joe’s this morning at nine, I wore a sweater.
It’s a transitional time, I said to someone recently that it felt like running into a glass door. I didn’t see it coming even though I knew it was out there somewhere, this end of lazy days, quiet mornings and staying up as late as you want.
I just had a strange thought. Once our kids are grown, will it seem like the fading of summer into fall is like any other change of season?
-related to Topic post: WRITING TOPIC – SUMMER
yb, your last paragraph took me back to memories when the boys were your daughter’s ages. And then the years that followed-too quickly…Before I realized it E. was driving, had girlfriends,was graduating from high school (I cried like a baby when his name was called to go on stage & receive his diploma), going off to college, now engaged & turning 28 years old in a month.
A., just slightly 2 years younger than E., soon followed the same path, however, he became a parent at a young age & is the father of Brant, our grandson, who just turned 7.
Brant, just yesterday an infant is growing up fast.
So yes, the fading of summer into fall is like any other change of season.
I have heard many mom’s saying they can’t wait until school starts again. If they only knew how cherished the summer is when you realize it has suddenly faded into fall.
Someday the summer days will be the days they long to have back again. D
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YB, it took quite a while for me to adjust to not having to prepare kids for school, especially the elementary school that they all attended, for there was at least one of our brood, (for a while, three at at a time,) attending for a continuous 18 years! I sometimes wondered if we held a record. I was afraid to ask, thinking that I might be told that the staff held some kind of a party to celebrate, when the last one left 6th grade! It felt so strange not to be stopping at that school any more…just didn’t seem right.
Childhood is such a brief period of time; gone all too soon. Those of you with young ones still at home, cherish each day that you have them with you, even the difficult days, for they will be gone and you’ll be left with too much quiet, too much food in the fridge, and a neat, clean house that you would rather have be just a little bit messy.
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it was time to turn off the sun and get into bed
what a line……I relate to much of this. My kids are still off for another four weeks, we’re midpoint, but I remember all the stuff you talk of from my own childhood, the lovely pencil case, unused eraser, uniforms let down and pressed. I noticed last night that dark had come much earlier and felt that delicious anticipation of autumn (my favourite season) but also felt sad……great post.
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I love reading your posts, I get that warm cuddly feeling when you talk about some aspects of your childhood, like the school supplies, a new outfit for the first day back, going to bed when it’s still light. And even your description of the kids coming back from camp reminds me of my own children.
I never went to sleep away camp, did you?
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Summer here is western Missouri is heavy with humidity and hot, hot temperatures. The outdoors functions like a steam bath most days. No need to shower because as soon as I leave the house I am wet again from the water in the air. Oppresive, unrelenting, steamy, smothering…all those words describe summer here. I love it. It passes and gives way to the brutal heat of late summer which fries the grass to a lovely yellow-brown in preparation for autumn.
My mother would buy jeans with legs that were too long for me. She would roll them up and then as I grew during the school year she would unroll the jeans. I would receive a new set of crayons, a Big Chief tablet, some new pencils and erasers, and a new brown paper sack in which to carry my lunch. On the first day of school, the neighborhood women would line up all of the children from grade school through high school and take their pictures. We knew then that summer had ended.
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Wonderful snapshot, Bob. It seems wistful, just as I imagine it was.
Oh, and just one brown paper sack to last all year? How much less wasteful we were in those days! Well, at least now we have thermal lunch boxes, so I suppose we’re not wasteful in a different way. I wonder how long it would take Em to tear and otherwise render unusable a brown paper sack. Probably less than a week.
Christine, up to a few years ago, I thought I never did go to sleepaway camp. Then I spent one summer doing tons of Writing Practice with a young woman who was about 20 years younger than me. One day she suggested we write about “sleepaway camp.” I said I’d never gone as a kid, but I wrote on the topic anyway. ‘Lo and behold, the memory came back that I *had* gone to a sleepaway Girl Scout camp.
I even wrote a blog post about how WP gave me back my memory (LINK).
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diddy and oliverowl, your comments make me realize just how fast this all moves. Even thinking back to our own childhoods, it seems like yesterday, doesn’t it?
Your comments act as loving reminder to be present to each moment. Thanks.
Jo, autumn is also my favorite season of all. It’s such a beautiful and bountiful time. And yes, there is a sadness to the end of summer for me, always, when I was a kid and now.
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I didn’t get new clothes, but I always got a new pair of school shoes and a new book bag. How proud I was!
I remember being awake nearly the entire night before the first day of school – absolutely unable to sleep with such excitement. Do kids feel that way now?
And now as summer rolls into autumn, I’ll send my ‘lastling’, my daughter in college, back to school. It’s not quite the same as sending them to grade school – I don’t see her for stretches of time once school starts, and I have to remember I can’t holler upstairs when I have a question or want a companion to go shopping.
but I do love autumn. My favorite season, and especially so this year because I’ll be traveling some this October. So there is good and bad in having the kids gone. There sure aren’t autumn vacations when the kids are at home; this will be a first.
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Bo, yes, my daughter was so excited last night (today was her first day). She picked out what she wanted to wear, took a shower, and was ready for bed by 8:30. Then this morning she got up all on her own, packed her lunch, ate breakfast, all the while seeming so very happy. She loves school.
Hey, I remember those school boxes that were cigar boxes taped on one hinge. I loved those things.
My sister has college-aged kids, and I know she gets kind of sad when she sends them back. She loves having her kids around.
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All three of my children are grown and gone. I felt a little sad reading about your picking up kids from camp, getting ready for the school year. I miss all that. I was a pretty harried mom, working full-time and having a ten year span between my two oldest and the little guy. I often longed for more time away, more writing time especially. I often wished my son would stop talking to me all the time, especially since by the time he was 7, he was deeply into creating computer games and would regale me with details of plotlines, what weapons worked on what villain, what tools you needed to get from world 3 to world 4, etc. Endless. But with the eventual departure of each kid – to marriages and to school – I’ve wept like Niagara. The kids tease me about it still.
I miss them terribly sometimes.
I used be sad every fall, too, when the kids went back to school. It was an exciting time for everyone but I liked summer better, when we could spend time together without having to make room for homework, for soccer practice, and chess club, and swim team.
My youngest, who’s a junior in college, comes home this Sunday for his summer break. He still makes the fall transition meaningful for me. He still needs us a bit. I’m glad.
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