This is the first summer in years that I felt that time stood still for a little while. I pushed pause in July on work related things to simply BE. To think about the day only as they came. To have time to spend quiet moments on the back patio with Gabe smoking an occasional cigar, and talking about our family’s future. Time to engage in long conversations with Veronica interpreting her numerous drawings, reading books and dozing off to sleep with Max, and building master forts with Gabriel. This summer and I had something good going, and it has made it a little harder to come to terms with it coming to a close.

When I was a girl summers lasted forever… chasing “lightening bugs” at dusk, staying up late giggling with my sisters, running through the paths our dad would mow in the yard for us, climbing trees and eating watermelon in my grandparents backyard…I would do almost anything for just one more of those days, but for the first time in many years, I had a taste of it again.

Now I have three little ones of my own and they are in the middle of the golden years. Gabriel is an inquisitive, compassionate, and imaginative 5 year old willing to rise to any challenge you propose. Veronica is a strong willed, musically inclined, sensitive 3 year old always looking for an angle. Max is a curious, stubborn, and cuddly little 1 year old ready to conquer the world one sofa at a time.

As any mother knows, you would give up everything for them at a moments time. And as they grow you have to slowly let go as they enter their little feet into the world. Today was Gabriel’s first day of Kindergarten. He will be gone all day every day of the week. I am not going to pretend I am not super attached to my children. There were many tears mixed with proud moments as I scrubbed his shoes, prepped his backpack, and laid out his uniform. It is hard to let go. It is hard to trust them into someone’s care. Today, as I saw his little smiling face look back one more time in the classroom, I felt a wave of gratitude for good teachers. They help us mothers loosen our grip a little and have the courage and confidence that they are ready:)

And so our summer comes to a close. We are adjusting our sails as every new season seems to demand, but when you allow the adjusting to take place, there is peace. And peace leaves room for gratitude, which is the royal chair for happiness it seems:)

“You cannot direct the wind, but you can always adjust your sail.” – Ash Sweeney