Last week we experienced our first really hot days of the year. The temperature soared to 104 degrees from this summer’s norm of about 68, enough to make me sit up and take notice that summer was about to pass us by. For two days, I dropped everything, grabbed my 10-year-old son, threw him in the car with snacks, towels, and sunscreen, and drove the 20 minutes out to Half Moon Bay mid-week to relish the sparkling, cold sea.
We saw dolphins and seals (or sea lions, I’m never really sure). We shared a giant stretch of beach with maybe 10 other people and a congregation of birds.
We laughed, played, and splashed until we fell on our blanket, exhausted, munching on juicy green grapes. He’s growing up so fast that it hurts. I wanted time to stop, even as tides marked the minutes. By next summer, giggling and running on the beach with mom will be too embarrassing, but for now, it was just what he needed.
He begins 5th grade in 10 days, and he’s angry that he’s rusty on his 9-times. Never mind that decimals and geometry are crisp, it’s just those stinking 9s that have him needing to practice a bit. I don’t remember ten being so hard. Mostly I remember summer lasting forever, which reminds me the view is different from there. Maybe, if I’m really lucky, he’ll remember the summer that scorching heat came out of nowhere and I took time to laugh and play with him on the beach before I blinked and he became a man.
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Your last sentence reminded me that I should worry more about building lasting memories for my children, than the 3 inches of dust in my house! Thanks!!
Jane, you’re welcome. I get so caught up in the “doing” all the time, that I forget the “being,” The “being” is what we’ll both cherish as the years go by.