Tuesday, 3 September 2019

Summer blues

As I watched my son lope off to catch his school bus this morning, I shed a tear. It was a discreet tear alone in the car - a quiet acknowledgement that my boy is growing up and that the summer is over. No one saw; I didn't embarrass him.

Two eyes from Blenheim Palace
One eye on the past and one on the future...
On our way to the bus stop, we had overtaken a nervous first year, walking alongside his mum. A whole year has passed since my son set off for his first day at senior school, his face set and his shoulders hunched. 

This morning, his stride had a cocky bounce as he hoisted his sports bag over one shoulder and headed off to find his friends. No doubt they would exercise their privilege as second years and claim seats slightly further back on the bus.

It has been a funny summer. In June, my dad had a heart attack and spent three weeks in intensive care before making a brilliant recovery. At the same time, I was working hard on a freelance project and gearing up for our house renovation. In truth, I've been so busy I've hardly noticed the summer slip by. A relaxing week in Mallorca gave me some space to reflect although I was also catching up on my own writing (I'm 10,000 words into a new novel).
Puig de Maria, Pollenca, Mallorca
Quiet time in Mallorca

With the beginning of another academic year, it always feels like a watershed moment. My son's legs have elongated, while my daughter is facing new challenges - her GCSE year. More than ever, the momentum of family life carries us forward and then, of course, it will be over in the blink of an eye! 

On this first day of the school year, I pause for a moment, glancing back at the summer we've had and looking forward to the year ahead. Tomorrow, I'll be caught up in the usual routines and life will canter on. But for now, I'm feeling the tug of nostalgia and the passing of a summer spent with two of my favourite people. 


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