Melancholy

Me and melancholy...we're old friends. In fact, we're so close that he decided to stop by for a visit this week. It had been a while, so I let him in.

Here's the strange thing. Usually this feeling hits me at the end of summer. I'm not sure what it is about that time of year, but it always happens. Maybe it's the end of long days and the end of the freedom to walk outside in bare feet. As soon as I see that first red leaf fall from our tree, I know it's over and the mourning sets in. I mentally start preparing myself for the short days, the bundling up we need to do to go outside, and the claustrophobia that sometimes sets in from being stuck inside. Yep, at that first sign of summer coming to an end I try to soak it all up. I want to spend every moment outside. Playing. Eating. Watching all the activity in my neighborhood. I start to miss it all before it's even gone.

So why am I feeling this way when summer hasn't even started? The tulips haven't even opened and most of the trees are still bare, yet I feel this way. Maybe it's because I know how quickly time passes. I hate to use a cliche (but I'm just so good at it!), but it does pass in the blink of an eye.

There's such an ease to our summer "schedule," and I use that word hesitantly as there really isn't a schedule as much as there's some routine. School lets out and Duncan is free to stay up late and watch movies with Patrick. Yes, I still have to get up early for work and get Griffin off to day care, but when I leave I can put everything behind me. I go home and play outside with Griffin. We mess around in the garden. We go for walks.

Every year I vow to not only make the most of the summer, but to be mindful of it, to hold onto it and soak it up. Unfortunately, I always seem to come to this conclusion at the end of summer, when there's not much left to hold onto.

Not this year. This year is going to be different.

This morning, when Griffin woke up, I went into his room. He smiled at me, and then he looked at his windows and said, "Mommy, the sun is up!" It was if he was seeing it for the first time. If only I could bottle that innocence and enthusiasm. I can't quite do that, but I can see life through his eyes a little more often, and that's what I hope to do this time around.

I know Mr. Melancholy will still make his annual visit at the end of summer. That's never going to change, but I don't think I'll regret letting time slip by too fast.