These last days of summer belong to my son. School is approaching and I feel like I’m witnessing the last days of my firstborn’s babyhood. Soon begin his very first days of school and he’ll change. His teacher will become an equally important voice in his life. He’ll begin to conform academically and socially to school expectations. Friends will matter a great deal to him. They’ll be an influence on his choices and he’ll come home from school filled with chatter about birthday party invites and playmates.
I can already see his graduation from high school and I need stop and see the beauty of this time in front of me, before it’s the past. I’m trying very hard to stay right here. The time and place where my son will suck his thumb in public, considers a superhero cape perfect for all occasions, and speaks aloud all his thoughts, all day, every day.
These are still the days when he is wholly mine, so I’m planning to linger here a little longer. We’ll stay out a bit too late at parks and lie on the deck watching the stars while telling silly stories. I’ll tuck him into our bed after he wakes up for a late night washroom visit instead of redirecting him back to his room. And when he drops words about bodily functions into our conversations, I’ll throw back my head and laugh the way he loves. Everything else can wait. These last days of summer are a gift for which I will be present.