Sunday, August 29, 2010
School starts tomorrow which is the loudest note of the Fat Lady's Song. I'm spending tonight making the first of many packed lunches. I'll be ironing some tiny clothes with a glass of wine perched on the board. We'll be reviewing his list & adding emergency contact information to his book-bag. Ears will be cleaned out & nails will be trimmed. And finally, we'll sit around the table for homemade pie & ice cream. It's Summer's Final dinner. We've prepared all that we can. We've talked it up & reassured as often as two parents are able. The lump in my throat has disappeared, reappeared, & disappeared more times than Barbra Streisand's Farewell tour. We've got nothing else to do but dole out hugs & say "Good-bye."
Good-bye, Summer. You were good to us this year. For the first time in my life & I can actually say, you'll be missed.