One More Weekend
Remember May?
When summer stretched out in front of us like we had all the time in the world?
We were going to visit the splash pads. Take the day trips. Stay outside until dark. Make popsicles. Go swimming. Have slow mornings.
And somehow, here we are.
The school supplies have been purchased. Backpacks are waiting. Teachers are preparing classrooms.
And summer?
Summer is standing at the door with one hand on the doorknob.
But It Isn't Gone Yet
Here's what I don't want us to do:
Turn the final days of summer into another deadline.
You don't need to finish the bucket list. You don't need to cram six adventures into four days. You don't need to create some magical cinematic finale your children will remember forever.
Maybe you go to the Missouri State Fair.
Maybe you eat funnel cake for dinner.
Maybe you take one last trip to the pool.
Or maybe everyone stays home, orders pizza and watches a movie in pajamas.
Summer doesn't need a grand finale to have mattered.
The Things They'll Probably Remember Anyway
Children have a funny way of remembering the things we never planned.
The song that played in the car all summer.
Eating watermelon outside.
Running through the sprinkler.
Staying up past bedtime.
The day Mom said yes to ice cream before dinner.
The ridiculous joke everyone kept repeating.
The stuffed animal won at the fair.
Those weren't necessarily the things on our summer bucket lists.
They were simply life happening while we were busy making other plans.
Maybe the goal was never to give them the perfect summer.
Maybe it was simply to give them a summer that felt like theirs.
This Weekend's Assignment
Actually, there isn't one.
That's the point.
If you want one more adventure, take it.
If everyone needs rest, rest.
If the fair is calling, go.
If the couch is calling louder, listen.
The beginning of a school year will bring enough schedules, alarms, forms, lunches, practices and places to be.
These last few days don't need another checklist.
And When Monday Comes...
We'll find the shoes.
We'll pack the lunches.
We'll take the pictures.
We'll probably forget something.
Someone may cry. Someone may be ridiculously excited.
And somehow, we'll find our new rhythm.
But we're not there quite yet.
For now, the Ferris wheel is still turning. The evenings are still warm.
The backpacks can wait just a little longer.
We still have one more weekend.
