Our summer here is almost over. I know. It’s early July, but our boys will return to school in 3 1/2 weeks.
I remember as a kid that summers seemed to last forever. The days were long and hot and filled with all kinds of simple, childhood adventures. We played in the woods behind our neighbor’s house where we would build forts, play hide’n’seek and have imaginary wars.
We picked blackberries. We hiked down to the train tracks so we could walk along the railroad ties, rode our bikes and had sleepovers in the backyard playhouse our father had built for us.
We caught lightening bugs, played in the sprinkler and laid on the driveway late at night counting the stars. There was hardly a day we stayed inside, unless it was raining and then sometimes we played in the rain.
My heart aches sometimes as I long for my boys to know those simple days of summers gone by. I want them to know the innocence and simplicity of how things used to be.
I want life to be easy for them. I don’t want them to suffer or to have to endure hard times, but I know they will. They will be faced with tough decisions. They will have to learn to deal with the pain of broken hearts and they will have to look disappointment squarely in the face and know how to respond.
They will have to be men. And that is never easy.