Summertime Blues

 


Summer is one of my favorite times of year. It's almost my favorite season.  Actually my favorite season is one I've kind of made up:  Sumtumn…which is that part of the year when summer is ending (or starting to end) and autumn is just beginning.  I'd say autumn is my favorite season, but the end of the season, as we start to transition to winter, is almost as bad as "false spring."  Sumtumn brings cool mornings, warm days and nights that only require a fan and not a/c.  Things are still green and blooming, but there's also a hint of the change of colors.  (Like yesterday when I was heading back to NJ from PA and as I was coming down the mountain, I could there was a sea of green trees and one red/orange one.  I wish I could have taken a photo, but that wouldn't have been a good idea as I was driving down a steep incline at the time.)

Although I LOVE this time of year, I'm also feeling a bit blue.  Not quite sad...well maybe slightly sad?  A tiny bit down/depressed?

I've been fine thus far with not having any time at the NJ shore.  Or have I?  I certainly don't miss the traffic, the noise and the crowds.  I REALLY don't miss the obnoxious people...and trust me there are a lot of obnoxious and entitled people.  (But I suppose they exist everywhere...it just is that there seem to be more of them at the NJ shore in the summer than any other time or place.)  But I do miss the sun rise.  I do miss the sand between my toes.  I do miss the smell of the ocean and the water as it laps over my feet.  And I miss the friends that I had in the area.  (That includes friends of my parents who I miss more than I could have imagined.)

It's strange what set me off.  It WASN'T the email that a good friend of my mother's sent to me about the annual regatta at the end of last month that honors my parents.  I was okay with that.  (Mostly because the email which contained an official "club" email talked only briefly about the event and more about the food, cash bar and dinner afterwards, which I KNOW would have driven my mother nuts.)  It was a social media post from the photographer who documents all the races on the bay.  Last weekend was hosted by the club that my parents belonged to since the 1970s and was one of two events (the other being the regatta that had it's named changed to honor my parents) that they both worked incredibly hard on.  There are approximately 40 photos which I scrolled through.  Mostly they were of the races.  Boats out in the bay captured against a blue sky.  Beautiful, but didn't make me wistful.  It was the last two photos that hit me hard.  One was of what I believe was the skippers meeting before the races and the other was of the club's flag pole flying the club's burgee, the American flag, the bay association's flag and the "rooster" (for context:  https://jobsonsailing.com/books/16-chasing-roosters-a-century-of-sailing-on-barnegat-bay)  I'm not sure WHY these two photos got me, but they did and I felt myself welling up with emotion and I haven't been able to shake it.  

I wasn't really a sailor.  Sure I took lessons as a kid.  (And never fit in.)  Sailing was my parents' thing.  And running the races was their passion.  I never fit in there, but I miss it.  Or do I miss what I think I want it to be?  (Does that even make any sense?)

I know my son also has some of the summertime blues.  He will be wrapping up his summer jobs and heading back to college in less than two weeks.  While he is looking forward to his classes and being with his friends, he revealed that the campus can be a bit "cold" and that he wants to get on with his life.  Over this summer, holding down two jobs (one as a theater camp "counselor" and the other as summer sexton) he feels like a "real adult."  He is responsible and feels like he is helping people.  On campus, he feels like he is a kid and doesn't know what he is doing.  A friend  of mine said this is the "junior blahs," her kid had them too and I think she's right.  He's transitioning from a kid to a young man, and he wants to get out there and DO.  I couldn't be prouder, but on the other hand, I feel for him.  I understand his blues and (as a mom), I wish I could make it easier.  (Don't most of us want to make things easier for those that we love?)

So, what will get us through the summertime blues?  What always gets us through.  The knowledge that life moves on.  Nothing is forever.  This summer will be over.  Memories will hold fast, but we will move forward.  We can't ignore the blues, and we can't wallow in them either.  We accept them.  We allow ourselves to feel; feelings are valid.  But we keep moving forward.  The sun will set on the sadness, and we need to be ready to see the sunrise on the new day ahead.

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