Somehow, someway, September came. What once loomed and doomed with too-far-awayness is suddenly here. And with that realization, I feel the need to write a farewell letter to Summer. You see, I wasn’t very nice during certain moments to Summer and I feel that I owe her an apology.
Back in June, I didn’t want to see you. The thought of you, and Tucker having shortened school days, and then having no school days during most of August, filled me with worry. With doubt. With ugly mind-whispers that sounded like I can’t do this. I cannot work, and write, and play with my little boy and there’s not enough time and why am I paying a sitter to do fun things with Tucker when it should be me doing the fun and there is never any time for a shower except at 1am and… I. Can’t. Do. This. There’s not enough time. I don’t have enough time. I am not enough.
I’m sorry, Summer. I’m sorry, because I was wrong. It’s September, today, and you’re leaving me and all of a sudden, I’m sad. I’m sad because I realize, now that it’s too late, exactly how good we were together. I realize that work, and writing, and magical moments, and language building, and fun, and yes, even showers, they all accidentally happened. And that maybe there were days when I was sad because I felt like I was doing it wrong and wondering why I was paying a sitter to do something fun with my little boy so that I could work but that it all worked out. That I did, and I was, and that I was enough. We were enough. You’re leaving us. I apologize for not appreciating you when you were here.
To make up for silently wishing you away and for thinking that I can’t wait for school to start again, I’m here to ask for your forgiveness. I’m here to say that I’m thankful for all of the moments and the magic that we shared together this year. I’m here to say that next year, I will be nicer about welcoming you into our lives with open arms. Next year, instead of greeting you with a groan, I’ll instead say “Hi, Summer. I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve missed you.”
Thank you, Summer. Thank you for giving me moments that I’ll remember forever in spite of the fact that I didn’t always realize they were happening when they were happening. Thank you for giving me those moments in spite of myself. Here are the things that I’ll look back on with the widest heart and the biggest of smiles.
- Thank you for giving us the beach for Tucker’s fourth birthday. This summer of Four will always be our “Happy to You” Summer. Thank you for that.
- Tucker has a friend. Not only that, on the days when he’s said no to the playground, no to going outside, no to everything, the mere mention of his friend is enough to change the no to excitement. You will always be the Summer of Tucker’s First Real Friend.* For that, I am grateful.
- Our sitter. We found her because you came before I thought I was ready for you, Summer. While there were days in which I was resentful that I paid for her to have fun with my little boy rather than having that fun with him myself, I am thankful that she is kind. That she loves my son. That my son loves her back. That she is excited about Outside and Fun and Doing Things Together. You will always be the Summer that brought us our first loved sitter. And for that alone, my work thanks you. My writing thanks you. That I have (mostly often) shaved armpits thanks you.
- Thank you for all of the weekend days that Robert realized that I was up too late at night, fighting the I Can’t Do-It’s by actually Doing and allowing me to sleep in the following morning.
- Summer, as I wrap up this list of thanks and apology to you, I’d like to thank you from the whole of my self that, on your final August evening, my worry and doubt and overall angst about transitioning Tucker to a bigboy bed in a bigboy room was for naught. That he welcomed his new room and his new bed with excitement and glee rather than with “I like my old room and my old babybed.” Thank you for that. You will always be the Summer in which we realized that Tucker has become a Big Little Boy. That he’s not a baby and that he handled moving to his bigboy place with ease and wonder.
So, Summer. Like I said, next year, I promise to do better and be better about saying hello with kindness rather than with trepidation and ICan’tDoThis thoughts. We did do it, Summer. We can, and we did. Together. I’ll miss you, my friend. Thank you for giving us love and sunshine and magical, peaceful, busy, wild, and messy mornings and afternoons. Although not all of our moments together this year were perfect, or ideal, they were enough. And they were ours.
*I need to clarify something about Tucker’s First Real Friend. Tucker does have another very special friend. One whom he has known since he was six months old. His mother, a woman named Shalini, is amazing and wonderful and really really busy because she just started her own business. Also, her daughter is “typical” and as they aged, she and Tucker spent less time together. This is mostly because Tucker started school when Shal’s daughter didn’t need to, and life, and we’re busy, and also mostly totally my fault. I am going to make time for her this week. That’s a promise. I’m thankful for my friend Shalini and her daughter.
This farewell letter to summer has been a Ten Things of Thankful post. While you may see actual numbers adding only to five, I do hope that you are able to recognize that there are definitely more than ten thankful things in this post. I mean, the bigboy bed thing? The First Real Friend thing? Those, alone, are totally worth five in themselves.
Tell me, friends. What are you thankful for from this summer? How do you feel about the fact that September is here, already? Are you relieved? Saddened? Both?