Dawg Days of Summer
“The next five months are grim ones. I always feel sorry to have the summertime change, with the dark evenings closing in mid-afternoon, and will try to lay in some physical comforts these months – the best insurance against gloominess for me.” ~ Sylvia Plath
Summer where did you go?
How is it September already? I feel as if I have lost part of my soul, and just as I am about to grasp it again, it has been ripped away from me. Like saying adieu to a lover, knowing the separation will be tenuous, the counting of months long and even unbearable. That is how knowing summer is ending feels.
It sounds so cliche to say that the summer has flown by, but for me it was a blink of an eye, like the superhero Flash speeding through time, one moment it was there and the next it was gone. Now all that is left is the barren dreary months of cold laid out before us, instead of beckoning like the sun does, I want to shy away and hide under blankets.
I feel guilty saying this, like I am being a pouty child, but I didn’t feel like I got to enjoy summer in all of its glorious entirety. That isn’t to say I did not have an incredible summer, I did. But perhaps I am being a bit too greedy, if I had my choice, it would be summer 365 days of the year.
This summer I traveled extensively. Which if I was being honest, and I do from time to time (alright daily) love to give myself a reality check, is WHY summer flew by. I spent nary a moment in New York, and when I did I was busy working. While it was fun work, I can now add proud Broadway reviewer to my resume, (Can we say dream job?) it didn’t leave much time to enjoy the city, before I was jet setting off.
In fact this summer I spent maybe three weeks in the Concrete Jungle. Perhaps I can say I have become a true New Yorker, with the mass exodus of residence and the influx of tourists that occurs every year.
My travels saw me to San Diego, Nantucket, Humarock, Boston, Maine, and lastly, of course my beloved home state of New Hampshire. While they all had the coastal vibes I adore so much in common, every place I visited was a well diverse mix of culture fulfilling my ever yearning jet setting blonde heart to explore and learn. Each place was so unique and verging on the cliche again, I was grateful I got to experience these places, some of which I had been to before and saw with new eyes, and others completely new experiences. As I have said it before, THAT is what travel is about.
August marks my annual trip to New Hampshire. Usually all of August, I spend the last weeks of summer up there. With my sister also coming up for two weeks with her family, it is a reunion of sorts, with family dinners and fun activities with the kids. This year, because of work, I ended up having to go a bit later. And sounding like a spoiled mermaid, I didn’t get the quality time at the beach like I usually do. In fact I didn’t even venture towards the ocean the first week I was home.
Despite that abomination, (could I be a more dramatic mermaid?) I have somewhat rectified it (though I will never get that first week back!) with frolics in the waves making my heart happier. It has been good to spend time with my family, especially my nieces and nephews. This time, and these days are so incredibly special, but also terribly important.
The age of time is upon us, not only are my nieces and nephews growing all to fast, (do they have some Marvel DNA in them?) but as much as us adults like to ignore it, Father Time affects us too.
My family has seen that with my Dad, and even my Mom, facing health issues this last year. Time moves us forward whether we would like to or not like pages in a book, flipping through chapter to chapter.
New pages are being written every day, and like an author with a manuscript that will never be good enough, (I can attest to that) pages are rewritten as well, adding the words like grains of sands and watching the word count grow.
And yet, each page is a new beginning for us to write whatever we want. As summer comes to a close, I watch my nephew nervously but ambitiously take on Kindergarten. He is beginning his educational journey, as I begin the end, or at least finish this particular chapter of mine.
I would say it has been a long time coming, but then that would be giving in to the demands and stigma of society. The ills of a time table that I had no desire to, and didn’t, follow. As I finish my degree in communications and marketing with a minor in russian, on my own terms, I am left drifting in the ocean. As the time comes to make a decision to leave a city I will have called home for eight years, or to once more let it pull me back into its clutches.
The pull of new job, especially writing, opportunities, is enticing to a city that tells me I haven’t experienced all it has to offer. And yet, as scared shitless as I was to move here all those years ago, I realize that one of the hardest cities in the world to live in, has become a safety blanket. It truly has become home, but it has also become safe and comfortable. Life shouldn’t only be lived safe and comfortable, it should be lived pushing and growing yourself constantly, and there lies the conundrum. To feed into my wanderlust soul, to plant seeds and let them take me where they may, or to stay safe and content with what I know.
Last Days of Summer
This whole summer feels like I did not live it, like it was a beach read I picked up and read. An observer on the outside. And yet it truly was magical. As summer comes to a close, it has caused much reflection, some of which is anxiety inducing, I won’t deny that, but also excitement for what lies ahead.
This summer felt like a passage of time, a pause between childhood and adulthood. A bride right before her wedding, not quite married, but not quite single either. It wasn’t the usual summers of past years, but it wasn’t what I know feature ones will come to be either.
There is no denying that next summer will be vastly different. How I can not say just yet. My family has many changes ahead, many happy ones, and some not so happy, and as for me, who knows where the currents might take me. They might decide to stay a constant, moving me forward gently, or sweep me up into another state, or even country, or they might even bring me home.
That is the journey of life. That is the passage of time, and however much I want to fight it, the changing of the seasons. It is the chapters we write, and we can add a curveball to the plot, or let it move along at its own pace.
As summer comes to an end, I am cherishing these last days with my family, soaking up the smiles and laughs. The tug of tiny hands slipping into mine, and the fullness of my heart, that doesn’t think it can get any bigger and then it does. This is what life is about, and it is what summer always represents to me.
How was your summer? What did you do this year?