A Summer Love Letter
The afterglow of time well spent doing nothing and everything in 2023.
I decided this summer, between my daughter’s freshman and sophomore year, I would say yes to whatever she asked. IF she asked. It would bring a welcomed distraction to the midlife problems of aging and dying parents, union strikes, unsteady incomes, and what in the hell the back half of life looks like cause my husband and I know time is running out. Saying yes makes me present. It’s the little tiny moments this summer that bring me so much joy. After a week of sleeping in and resetting expectations, she is off on her manifested summer of freedom and friends. I leave her to it only to chime in occasionally with The Reminders.
You girls stay together and leave together.
Mama, I am not stupid.
Make good choices.
Yes, Mama.
Always trust your instincts and look out for yourself.
Mama, I know.
I am a phone call away.
Of course, Mama.
Yes, Daughter.
I know you know all of these things. The repetition is just me trying to leave you with a positive mother voice in your head. We all have The Voice. And I want yours to help, not hinder you, when you are off on your own. On. Your. Own. Waking up to your own alarm to go to the classes you have chosen for yourself while your father follows your every move on LIFE 360. And you will complain, and I will promise to talk to him AGAIN. Hell, I might even revoke his privileges if you promise to remember. Please don’t forget our moments…
This summer. Every time I said yes, it made my heart soar. Â
Mama, do you want to go thrifting? Yes
Can I get my haircut like a reaaal haircut? Yes
Can I sleep over? Can she sleep over again tonight? Do you want to see the Barbie movie with me? Yes. Yes Yes.
Mama, I know times are hard, but if there is any way to go to the Eras tour, it could be my next three birthday presents plus one Christmas present. I don’t care where we sit. I just really want to be there.
I remember missing out on Madonna and Michael, and my hubs still longs for totally sucky hairbands, and fuck it, we all made those empty promises to our parents but deep down inside, I know how much she fucking means it at this moment. Yes.  It will cost us a mortgage payment to give you this weekend. Yes. Your Dad and I know all too well… Motherfucking Yolo. Music is medicine.
Does this outfit look good? Yes. (It really does.)
Are these shoes ok? Yes. You are going to have your first sore concert feet with me! I am so excited.
Can I have a seltzer? Yes. You are a cool mom. NO, I AM NOT. I AM NOT A COOL MOM. But yes, I want to be the first to share a real concert drink.
Our seats are in this section? Yes! We got backstage bonus footage and blasted by pyrotechnics feet from our seats, and Taylor waved at you. And yes! You don’t want this night to end or leave the stadium. Your first concert blues.
Mama, my feet have never hurt more, I am hot and cold at the same time, I cannot hear, I have never been so tired and so happy at the same time. Yes. This is the first of many of these I hope for you, and I am so lucky to hear you realize it in this moment for the first time.
What is that, Mama??? Can we get it? Yes! Street meat is bomb at 12:30 a.m., just before your father graciously picks us up next to the Inglewood Cemetery. It will make you think you’re going to puke tomorrow morning, as street meat always does. And I am happy to be a part of this core memory. Never Forget.
Dear Daughter, I hope you never felt the pause in a summer filled with adult pressures. We didn’t go anywhere, but goddamn, we had fun. I watched you realize your summertime desires of friendship and sun and beach time fun while you learned that babysitting was easier than waiting for a measly $30 a week on Wednesdays for some boring chores. I hope you love your all white room you paint with your dad and someday realize I am not a total pain in the ass for requiring you to have a clean bathroom and a tidy room before you take off on your adventuring.
I always hear the clock ticking. I love you and our TV couch nights and Beetlejuice and just how Cruel Summer can be in the Upside Down while we wait patiently for Murders in the Building while our Chihuahua sleeps in between us with your dad eating in your ear.
May this summer be our Era we always remember…
Oh, my heart! This made me tear up. It's so personal and yet you've managed to make me, the reader, feel the power of this love in a tangible way. I absolutely adore this, and kiddo is SO damn lucky to have amazing parents.