It’s the day school children long for all year round, the day almost as important as Christmas and Santa Clause and if their parents did get them that new shiny something they wanted. It’s the taste of freedom from assignments and chalkboards and daily routines.
Families unite to go away to exotic places where water is abundant and sunshine, too. Women who were reluctant to wear their whites, don those shorts, and wonder if it was too soon to hit the beach now can.
Seven years ago I met my husband, in a bar, on a night I thought would be just any other night consisting of banter and beer. A night where I remember thinking this sucks. No job for the last summer before college and yet a mile-long list of wishes for what it may bring. A man across the room whose eyes I see clearly into now, whose heart I love most, suddenly makes history.
A summer baby I keep saying, a summer baby.
Now summer is here.