The Summer is Over Now

For so many, the summer ends when school begins. The kids fill up their new backpacks and meet the teachers, while those lucky college students return to their home-away-from-home for the most carefree time of their lives.

But not me. I'm the fortunate one who gets to keep the summertime around for another week or two, allowing them travel with me on our annual family trip to the Jersey Shore.

I didn't know if I'd make it there again this year. Between waiting to see if my Real ID arrived in the mail before our early Saturday morning flight and my own travel anxieties, which is more about leaving home than actually going elsewhere, I decided to leave it up to fate. Was I supposed to stay home and continue to live my daily life in Chicago, or was I meant to get away for a week with my parents, brother, and daughter?

Long story short, the ID arrived, and I took it as a sign that a change of scenery was what I needed. We packed our suitcase, mostly filled with my daughter's clothes, skincare, and stuffed animals, then reluctantly said our "promise we'll be back soon" to our sweet golden retriever before boarding the Saturday morning flight to my home state of Pennsylvania, an hour-and-a-half drive away from our beach town destination.

This year's rental beach house was different from past years, even located outside of our beloved Stone Harbor in the neighboring town of Avalon. While the change may have stressed out my other family members, I found myself appreciating the new environment, recognizing this year more than any others just how much I've struggled with carrying my life's baggage on vacation with me, immediately experiencing the déjà vu that comes with revisiting a place, let alone one whose walls hold your tears, fears, and trauma.

To tell you the truth, when I got to the new house, it felt more like a vacation home than the other had in past years, likely for that very reason. I'll also share that I didn't nap, as I usually feel the need to do after my flights to the east coast. Instead, I showered- with the hottest and best water pressure that I've had in years- and headed to the beach to watch the sunset.

Why? Really, it’s more like, why not?!

I honestly can't tell you how many daydreams I've had about living in a beach town and enjoying walks along the beach and evening sunsets over the ocean, picturing my daughter doing cartwheels down the shore as my dog catches tennis balls in the waves. So, on night one of my weeklong beach trip, I decided to partially live out this dream of mine.

I asked if anyone wanted to join, but they all turned me down. My dog wouldn't have, and I thought about that as I walked the four blocks towards the ocean, realizing how of an emotional support pet she is to me without the formal title. When I finally reached the sand, I noticed there were others crashing my party of one. Some were families enjoying their final summer weekend at the shore. while another group was filled with teenagers, and I swear you could draw a line in the sand, with the boys on one side and the girls on the other.

For a moment I was taken back to those days in the 1990s and early 2000s, although unfortunately mine never consisted of the beach backdrop. Instead, my nostalic coming of age memories were set in the scenes of suburban neighborhoods, high school fields and gymnasiums, and popular local restaurants like Eat N Park and The Clubhouse. Seeing them, I became a version for my former teenage self again, at least for a fleeting moment before I was reminded of my nine-year-old daughter and thought how she is closer to those days now that I am.

Anyways, as I walked past them, getting closer to the shoreline, I couldn’t help but notice the emotions arising within me. Some sadness, loneliness, and, dare I say, jealousy as I thought about how life has changed for me. Or at the very least, so different than I ever thought it was going to be.

At some point I stopped, remaining fairly motionless while I stared out at the horizon, watching as the sky slowing changed depths and colors against the sound of crashing waves.

Eventually I sat down, with my bare feet and fingertips immediately soothed by the wet sand. My mind began to spin a bit, and the only way I knew how to calm it was to write some of the words moving around in there out in the sand. I took a picture of those words to capture this moment for myself, recognizing the strength that it took inside me of to let these words out. Even if I couldn’t say them aloud, for whatever reason, I did write them.

Anyone on that beach could have seen them… at least until they were washed away by the waves… never to be seen again by another…if they were ever seen at all.

I’m not going to share what those words were. I’m not embarrassed by those four words nor afraid to be vulnerable. But rather, I’m choosing to keep them to myself simply because they are my words. Expressions of my inner thoughts, feelings, worries, hopes, and fears, and words that tell another more about the impact that this difficult journey has had on me.

Maybe I will one day, at least with trusted confidante rather than a public group. I don’t know. Part of me hopes I will, especially since the one thing I’ve really struggled with is no longer having a partner in this, someone who I want to open up to and share, well, everything.

But for now, I find some comfort that the ocean knows the words that I don’t always share, as well as the ones I can’t ever seem to find. Every year, when I come back to visit, without spoken words, it hears my dreams, my hopes, and my wishes. It also knows the secrets I’ve kept, or rather than secrets, the things that remain with me, instead of being shared out loud or externally.

While deciding to keep a lot of things to myself, I will say that this past summer was quite different from many in past years. But before I explain why and how, I’ll admit that I haven't been the biggest fan of the summer season, and not just because I’m more of an oversized tops, comfy pants, and blankets kind of-gal than tanks, shorts, and bathing suits.

See, for so many people, summer means family vacations, social outings with friends, and date nights. In Chicago, it also means adventures to the city, dog beaches, happy hours, Cubs games, and spontaneous day trips. But those things haven't necessarily been part of summer plans, as they cost money that we don't have, and the sun and heat quickly exacerbate autoimmune systems so any of our family outings always seem to cause more harm than good. So that's really the gist, even if it's not the full story.

But this summer, I made the choice to not dread it as much as I have. Instead, I stopped worrying about bills, costs, and every single financial transaction, and letting my unique life circumstances hold me back from creating summertime memories. And perhaps, more than anything, I let myself have some fun.

I spent many days at the local amusement park, riding coasters and ones that spun around way too much. I was called a "cool mom" by my peers and a "slay baddie" by my daughter and her friends. I never really believed their words or the hype around my actions, as I was just glad to no longer allow life to hold me back from being the mom that I've wanted to be.

All of this may not seem like a big deal to anyone else, but for me it is. None of this has been easy, and honestly, it's felt downright impossible at times. But I will tell you that I'm always trying. Whether you believe me or not, it's the one thing I know I've always done.

The summer is over now, and it's fair to say it was one that I will remember for what it gave me.

Memories.

Fun.

Laughs & Smiles.

Reflection.

And maybe even some Hope and Clarity, that better days are still possible.