I hate Labor Day Weekend. It’s the “official” end of summer at Christie Lake and it always makes me sad. We try and grab as much as we can out of the weekend and always have to make the decision of whether or not we’ll take the boats out or stretch out a couple more weekends into the fall.
It’s been a rather cool summer this year and the summer was one of the speediest summers I can ever remember. It was gone in a flash. Joe’s Mom keeps trying to tell me that the older you get, the faster time spins. She told me this when David was a baby and I laughed. She said the high school years were a blur. I couldn’t fathom that, because I was holding a little kiddo in my hands and just trying to make it through the next hour with some semblance of sanity and intact thought.
Damn. She wasn’t kidding. Time is indeed spiraling by and I swear, it seems like someone keeps turning the clocks on fast-forward. You know that little baby I was talking about? This is him:
He’s an offensive lineman for Hinsdale South now. In two short years, we’ll be sending him off to college. I don’t understand how he went from being a baby just yesterday to this strapping hulk of a boy/man. I kind of envy the Duggars. If I was smart, I could have cheated Father Time by just having baby after baby. Yeah, that would have been a good plan– you know how time crawls when you try to get through hour by hour with little ones. And then it would take forever before the last kiddo goes off to Grown-up-hood.
But getting back to the weekend, another reason I don’t like Labor Day weekend: each summer that goes by is a summer that I know I can’t get back, another summer ticking by.
So here it is, the big weekend of summer. So rather than thinking about endings, I’m going to celebrate the weekend instead. Join me–not in saying goodbye to summer, but just merely, “So long, see ya next year!”
