We rush to get out of the pool. The sky quickly turning a dark gray as we grab our towels and hurry to put shoes on. The breeze in the air is crisp, almost cool but not quite, it is June in Florida after all. The thunder in the distance is quickly growing near as I run through the neighborhood, pushing the stroller. We get to our house just as raindrops start to come down. We made it just in time. A bit later we are all snuggled on the couch, the girls in pajamas as the rain comes down in sheets. The thunder is clapping and lightning bolts dance across the night sky. This is home. Summer is here.
It started the last week in May, right on time. Most afternoons by four o’clock the east sky will begin to darken and the storms will roll in. By five o’clock the sky has opened up, the rain is usually finished within an hour or so, a quick downpour to cool everything off from the day of scorching temps. It can be such a comfort. Evening thunderstorms immediately remind me that summer is here.
I’m a summer baby, born the day after summer officially begins. My most vivid childhood memories all live in the summer. Building sand castles on the beach, swimming in the pool at our beach timeshare with the friends we made the summer before, riding my bike with my older brother, making mud pies in the backyard, dancing to Manic Monday outside on our picnic table, drinking grape Kool-Aid I made myself with a touch too much sugar. All of these memories come rushing back to me when the daily thunderstorms begin. Summer is magic for me.
It’s 9am on Sunday and the girls are finishing up breakfast, they immediately ask to go into the pool. For the past few weeks the pool has been a savior for me, a place where everyone in the family enjoys themselves. During the week, they jump in after dinner to burn off any remaining energy before baths and bedtime. On the weekends they swim for four to five hours at least, only hopping out for a quick snack or another layer of sunscreen. I now have little summer-loving babies of my own. I love watching them take summer in. Sometimes in the day-to-day hustle we forget that we are making memories, days they will look back on and remember. I am excited for what summers will mean to them. I hope in the future when those thunderstorms begin, even if they are sitting in an office, a smile will cross their faces in remembrance of all of the fun they had.
Hello June, thank you for bringing summer once again, another opportunity to continue making memories, memories that are now filled with sunkissed girls fetching toys off of the bottom of the pool and burying their Dad in the sand.