Have you ever watched someone take their final inhale and exhale from a cigarette? There’s often a subtle bittersweet expression that rests on their face ever so briefly. It looks like a deep savoring and a sweet goodbye all mixed up in the same moment. That’s how I feel about the last weekend before school starts. It’s the final puff of summer.
I inhale the sun, sand, and salt a little more mindfully now that I can see it all coming to an end. As I’m engulfed in the final haze of warmth and tan lines, I breathe it all in knowing that Summer will arrive again next year with the same serotonin-induced euphoria it brings every year.
If, like me, you find yourself savoring the final puff of summer, here’s an invitation to take a little inventory of all that was bittersweet this summer. For me, it’s the tiny inconsequential things, not the big events or adventures. For example…
- I loved effortlessly absorbing fiction novels that required zero thought and involved no plot lines or characters that touched on trauma, psychology, children, children’s needs, or empirical research.
- I enjoyed each of my children in different ways:
- Watching my youngest fearlessly learn to swim in deep water
- Observing my middle grow in maturity and leap into an era of more patience, more tolerance, and more ‘bounce back’
- And singing in the car while eating blueberries from a road-side stand with my oldest (teenagers are awesome to hang out with!)
- I ran into a long-lost friend unexpectedly at a campground and we immediately fell back into pouring our hearts out to each other in the realest of ways. It was like winning a lottery windfall when I hadn’t even bought a ticket.
- I felt freedom in my body this summer that enabled me to enjoy swimming, playing, and BEing with my family without the distraction of too much body-noise.
- I had two successful solo-parenting mini-trips with my kids where I could enjoy being with them—And although I came back exhausted, I actually had fun (who am I?!).
- I had time to connect, uninterrupted, with both my parents (separately, not together, but you get it).
- I felt like a kick-ass Mom when I impressed my kids with my ability to build, light, and “tend” to a campfire.
- And, after weeks of barely seeing my husband with both of us working flat-out in our designated zones of life, I felt relief as sweet as honey wash over me when we were able to catch our breaths together and I still found a feeling of home in his presence.
As I exhale and look towards the school year, I can confirm for you that I do not excel at the back-to-school prep. Some people are good at the supplies, the schedules, the inside shoes, the outside shoes, the lunch kits, etc. Not me. I cobble it together with will-power, tears, and lots of random lists.
But you know what I am good at? Staying focused on what matters.
Back-to-school isn’t about getting it right or wrong or being good at this thing we call school. Back-to-school is just a transition from summer chaos to school chaos. It’s just a different kind of bittersweetness. As my youngest starts Kindergarten (gulp) and my oldest starts high school (double gulp), I’m not short on anxiety. I could focus on all the things that I don’t have sorted out, but instead I’d rather focus on a back-to-school list of the things that matter most. Do their new shoes fit? Sorta, but never mind that, because I am packing their backpacks with a list of things that matter. Things like:
- The tiny strides in confidence they have made all summer
- The moments of courage they’ve demonstrated
- The support they give to each other as siblings when they don’t think I’m watching
- The checking-in with me before separating from me, with complete trust I’ll be there when they return
- Their growing excitement to be with friends, and to build relationships outside of our family
- Their ability to shine compassion and love on others without hesitation
- Their capacity to express themselves through words, actions, and behaviors
- The constant curiosity they bring to everyday experiences
…I’d carry on with this list, but my two youngest have started squabbling and saying mean things to each other, which completely obliterates my continued enjoyment of this one, last, final puff…
Inhale, exhale. Goodbye summer, hello school year. You are both so bittersweet.