The week that school starts always strikes a few of my tender heartstrings. All the anxiety and excitement in the air, all the fresh notebooks lining the shopping aisles, all the first-day-of-school pics popping up all over my instagram feed. Insert a heart ripping sound right here, shredding it right down the middle with a zigzag break. I love where I am right now with my hubby, my little boy, my mommy job, and my new prospects in the writing field. It's exciting and thrilling all on its own, but the zing feeling just isn't quite the same as those first day of school zing feelings.
Along with all the happy and thrilling zings there also comes a bit of a sinking feeling that hitches on to the beginning of school. This is it, this is the end of summer. No more days at the water park, no more vacations, and no more shaved ice. How can this be? How can such a beautiful time of warm weather and suntanned skin come to an end? I already miss it, which is weird because I am not going anywhere. My life changes very little from summer to autumn. Yet, somehow I am still affected.
The end of dear summer means yet another season has gone by: my boy is growing bigger, my time with him is growing shorter, he is learning so much, relying on me less and less, and we are closer than ever to the day he will be starting off on his first day of school. No! Even in my head that scene just shreds the heart, again!
Another sunset of summer comes to a close. I hold my boy close and sigh. Let the red pour over us and warm our skin yet one more time and pray that summer never leaves our face.
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