Solstice

I see some of you online with your back to school photos, shiny new kids’ backpacks and giant parental grins. I am watching from the sidelines, deliberately keeping my distance from the mentality of transitioning out of summer and back into productivity mode. And while of course my kids can easily fray my last nerve sometimes as the end of the season approaches, the truth is that I have never once wished to have school start earlier.

This last week of August to me is special, sad, and a little glorious all at once. I’ve been at the beach all week in a house where 13 members of my family are all staying together. There are a few decisions to make each day: Beach or pool? Hamburgers or chicken? Red or white? There is simultaneously a tremendous amount of activity and a gorgeous lull of laziness hanging in the thick humidity of the ocean air.

I know that, in a matter of days, my kids will go back to school. And the madness of schedules will return. Yes, we could use some structure and consistency for sure, but I’m not ready yet to give them back to alarm clocks and homework and the building crescendo of “Get in the car, get in the car, get in the car, WE ARE LATE GET IN THE CAR.”

It will be a big year of change for us. My kids will be in three different schools, and my oldest will be starting middle school, with its own set of distinct challenges. I recently went back to work after eight years (more on that another time), which has required all of us to adjust on several levels. And to boot, space and time refuse to slow down, despite my repeated requests. Processing change on any level is really not my strong suit, and this year feels like seismic shifts in a lot of ways. It’s hanging out there like a big leap I have to make, and soon.

And so this week, which has turned out to be steamy and even more late August-y than usual, has brought my extended family together in this house from three countries and three states. It’s rare that we are all together, and so to have this time to catch up and laugh without anyone having any kind of schedule is beyond special to me – even if a little bit like a reality show — and the perfect pinnacle to this summer.

It is my summer solstice.

I’m not good with science or being on time, and so yes, I know the solstice was really in June if you want to be technical. But, for me, in thinking about the longest days of summer, they are here with me now – without camp or work or laundry or a lot of rules. They are walks by the beach every morning before the sun gets too strong, with an iced coffee on the way back. They are a group mimosa most mornings, with some laughs about the night before, and maybe talk of a loose plan for the day. They are hours in the pool or the ocean while listening to Motown over cocktails and depleting the pallets of sunscreen. These are the days of ocean air, ice cream taste tests, and denial of what another looming school year will bring as my kids are somehow another year older.

These are the longest days not because the calendar says so, but because I have willed them to stretch beyond what is physically possible, capturing them in photos and in my memory. My solstice is borne of nostalgia and a lifelong habit of poorly transitioning between seasons, both of life and of the year. I know the days will shorten soon, and rapidly, once we pack up this beach house and all go our separate ways back to reality. And so, for now, it is peak summer, if only in my mind.

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