Didn’t Want it to End
By Jeff Salter
We’re blogging about summer’s ending and school’s beginning. More specifically: what were we thinking about during the final week of summer?
Two years ago, I wrote about how I never wanted the summer to end, but one of the few exciting aspects of ‘back-to-school’ was getting new school supplies. For a look at that column, please click here:
Summer’s final week
Where we live now, the kids have already been school nearly four full weeks, but when I was growing up in S.E. Louisiana, we didn’t start school until the Tuesday after Labor Day (as I remember things).
I no longer have clear recollections of a specific final week of any particular summer, but I do have a general sense of how most summers ended. It seemed as though the parents had a sense of urgency to get a lot of things done: whether that was household projects, purchasing school clothing, or even visiting relatives out of town.
For my own part, however, I recall a pervasive sense of doom — that I fast approached the regimentation and oppression of another school term. [I should insert here that I was a very good student, with very good grades, and had numerous terrific teachers.] Once I got back into the grind of the school term, I was fine with it. But I still dreaded the resumption of classes.
So for the final week of most summers, I imagine I was stressing-out about all the stuff which had to be completed in those few days (when we’d had all summer long to do them) … and moping around that my freedom was once again about to end. I suppose I approached the first day of school rather like I was being dragged down the Green Mile of the penitentiary … toward the gas chamber. You know — life was over!
Ah, maybe it wasn’t quite that bad. But, hey, as a writer, I’m allowed to paint memories with broader strokes. Right?
What did YOU do in the final week of your summers … before returning to school?