the end of summer

so many things mark the end of summer, like earlier sunsets and big ripe tomatoes and cool breezes and school preparation and hungry squirrels hurrying everywhere. but this summer, it is particularly bittersweet as i watch these two siblings and friends play as they always do on a monday morning: wildly, imaginatively, and unsupervised (mostly), while i do my house and kitchen and laundry and paperwork. they don't know how lucky they are to have eachother as playmates, how easy their lives are, and how soon this monday morning structure will change for them. next week, instead of building a fort and role playing and giggling, we will be packing up a new backpack and strapping it onto a nervous kindergartener. we will be walking a few blocks and then these two siblings will have to part ways at the front door of a new school for a new year. it's tremendously exciting, but it is also a little sad. it's important for me to pause for a moment and acknowledge the loss of my favorite part of the week: quietly working in the morning and listening to sweet little voices involved in happy and carefree and friendly play.




 i heard this on the radio, and it really sums up how i'm feeling right now. it also made me cry pretty hard from the deep part of my parent heart. everyone should listen, because i think her story of necessary change is worthy of contemplation.