Three weeks until school starts. Three weeks until routine and schedule and order return to our lives. Three weeks until I have my night-life back again. Three weeks until I can really write again. Three weeks until I lose my daughter again…
Must everything always be so bitter-sweet?
As if to answer me, I bite into a cherry not yet fully ripe and am caught off guard by the tartness of its taste. I look up from the screen to search for a burgundy-ripe selection and chase away the bitter with the cool, delicious sweetness.
This has been my summer. Chasing away the fleas, the raccoons under the deck, the termites, the weeds, the potty training, the endless pairs of poopy underpants, the tantrums, the attitudes, the battles over flash cards, the battles over dinner time, the battles over getting into the pool, the battles over getting out of the pool—chasing it all away with the sweet moments of star gazing and camp fires and friendship bracelets and “field trips” and making ice cream and you’re the best Mommy ever. All in all, I am left with a sweet taste in my mouth.
Even if I’ve not written a lick.
What was once a beautiful bowl of luscious deep-red cherries is now a collection of pits and stems—at least most of the stems. They are what remain. When these stifling days of lingering sunlight and long walks are gone, we will have consumed them fully—used them up in the best way we know how—together. The memories will remain.
And once school starts, I’ll share some of them with you.