Sliding down the tip of summer, I stop, wedged in a thin space between living with the abandonment I crave and needing just a little bit of structure to contain it. I sit between knowing what’s to unfold in a day and waiting for it to fold me up instead. I remember my lofty summer goals of May, the home projects we would tackle and the children’s crafts we would create. I remember all of the day trips we would take and the acts of service we would commit.
Yet now, grasping at the tail of summer, all of our togetherness, all of our woven moments bleed into one long, honeysuckle-sweet memory. And not many of the moments I planned in the spring have even made it into the mix. Few crafts have been made. We’ve mostly stayed at home or beside cool waters. But it feels more like freedom than failure, more like grace than pressure.
So while we ride this last mile of the stretched out summer highway, may grace and freedom and togetherness keep us savoring instead of speeding. May the things we have left undone settle into a safe place of acceptance or maybe-one-days. And may the final weeks before the school bell rings and the soccer whistle blows be filled to the brim with unplanned moments and simple memories blurring together into the last few sweet drips of summer.