I’m posting this blog after 10:30 on the night of July 4th.
Somewhere right now up in heaven, my mother is gently scolding my father.
When I was a kid we would gather on a street corner where we could easily see the fireworks from the closest Milwaukee County park.
When they were done it was oh so predictable what would happen next.
In front of all the families and their kids, Dad would say, “Well, summer’s over.”
Mom, who never got all that rough, immediately chastised him, admonishing him not to take the joy out of everyone.
Mom knew, and so did Dad, that summer had just begun a few weeks ago. What Dad meant was a very quick, decisive end to summer was about to start. The summer would disappear rapidly. Heck, today some schools go back into session in mid-August.
Summer is fleeting. It is so sadly short compared to what seems to be a never-ending winter.
Considering the calendar Dad knew he was wrong. Summer wasn’t over.
But in the end, Dad was right. 😦