Summer won’t be officially over until September 5, when we put all our white shoes and linen pants away.
But, summer was really over a week or so ago when school started.
“Summer’s over?” my child said, exasperated one Sunday evening when he was told he had to start the next day. “I literally just got out!”
It sure felt like it. Compared to the summers of my youth, his were over in a blink of an eye.
When I was his age, summer seemed eternal.
Somethings I didn’t like. I wasn’t a fan of the heat, we never went on vacation and with Mama working nights, my mornings were spent poking her multiple times until she woke up.
But somethings were so simple, I realize now how perfect they were.
A big deal for me was Mama taking a friend and me to the movies every summer, sitting a safe distance away so as to give us an air of independence while keeping a watchful eye.
Somehow, Mama always fell just trying to get up from her seat.
She claimed it was because she had a hard time adjusting to the light after sitting in the dark for two hours; I always replied her feet and the ability to move them had nothing to do with the lighting.
More than likely, it had something to do with the fact she was a tad bit clutzy. But picking Mama up from the popcorn shrapnel and sticky stuff we hoped was only Mellow Yellow was as much as a tradition as the summer blockbuster.
There were evenings sitting in the living room with the back door opened, listening to the crickets while we snapped peas.
It just took a few moments for me and Granny to find a rhythm that matched the cadence of the bugs humming in the night.
It could be hot and miserable, but somehow sitting with Granny as we snapped and shucked corns and shelled peas, it didn’t bother us much.
Even though this was work – Granny often put most of our evening efforts into the freezer for the winter – to me, it was the best fun I could have.
Sometimes, she’d make homemade ice cream for us, or her sweetened milk, taking regular milk and adding sugar, vanilla and ice.
My days were spent at the big library in town, sometimes, I even poked Mama enough while she was asleep that we got there before they opened and I was one of the first to walk in and smell all the knowledge on the shelves. I’d check out books by the stacks and spend my days curled up in the chair with my cat reading.
Of course, maybe my favorite summer activity was just the little joy rides Mama and I would take.
They always started at The Store to get gas in her little blue Ford Escort and to get ice cold Cokes out of the chest freezer – in the glass bottle, thank you – and packs of peanuts.
We were cool before Barbara Mandrell claimed she was.
Off we’d go, through the backroads of Oconee County, riding into Morgan County and eventually Clarke County. Mama loved nothing more than finding some old country road, usually one lined with picket fences and thick trees and discovering where they went, so that was how we spent many dusky summer evenings.
And we didn’t go back until after Labor Day, not the beginning of August.
“Why is my summer so short?” Cole asked, wanting more time.
“I don’t know,” I replied. I really wasn’t sure. It made no sense to me and I would love for him to have the long breaks like I did.
But he’s already been back in school for two weeks now.
Good thing my summer was much longer; there wouldn’t have been enough time to enjoy it all.