Way back in the early 1970's I spent most of my summers outside playing with my neighborhood friends. We could spend hours in each other's sandboxes making pies and cakes which never tasted as good as they looked to us. I can still feel the grit between my teeth, left after I spit out my sandbox concoctions.
In my early Michigan summers we didn't have the advantage of air conditioning, so on the really HOT summer days we would hide down in the cool basements, far away from the muggy outside. An empty refrigerator box served as a perfect house, and dressed in my mother's cast off high heels and polyester dresses I was the perfect Mom to my trunk of dolls. One day stands out, as my friend Becky and I decided that we needed to have jobs as well - and I took my safety scissors to her long hair to give her a much shorter 'do'. I don't think she was allows to come over and play at my house for over a year!
In the late 70's we moved to a house that had a neighborhood pool right down the street. I remember those summers spent running down the street with our towels tied around our shoulders pretending to be super heroes - making up our own names and super powers. Eventually though, the hot summer sun would take its toll, and we would run to the pool, and fall backwards into the cool water doing the "Nestea Plunge".
In 6th grade we moved further south - to Portage - 6 houses from Kalamazoo, where we were graced with air conditioning, and a furnished basement. Way before the days of 100 SPF, I spent a lot of my summers cooking in the backyard, coated in Johnson's Baby-Oil. Later, my friends and I would compare our burns we glorified in our grownup pain.
When I turned 15, my parent's decided that I needed to learn to sail 'small' boats - as that is how my parents initially met, and I guess they figured this would be a skill I would need to have to nab my future husband. My Dad bought an aqua "Snipe" and he and I raced at "Gull Lake" on Saturdays that summer. I did learn the basics of sailing well enough to learn to love it. I guess I didn't measure up to my mother's talent for crewing as that fall the boat was sold, and my Dad started to play golf instead.
At 16 I was able to finally drive my friends and myself to the 'real beaches' of Lake Michigan when I had the money saved for gas. I remember buying Tab and chips on our way - so we could drink the Tab, and lure the boys in with the promise of chips. On one trip I managed to lock my keys in the trunk of my 1971 Impala, and we had to call in a posse of guys we had met to help us break in to get the keys out. They pulled the backseat cushions out and stretched their long arms though the steel holes and rescued my keys. Of course, rather than calling my parents we spent the rest of the day at the beach - returning home after dark, hiding the hideous backseat until the next day.
My first summer job was due to my Aunt - who lived in Nashville Tennessee and had 'connections'. I managed to get a job working at Opryland, where I made new friends that I have kept to this day. I spent those summers working in the parking lot - playing the "Southern Belle" for all of the tourists that would come and want pictures with a true "Southerner". I didn't have the heart to tell them I was really from Michigan!
While I was in college, my parents moved to Ohio - so on my college breaks I was obligated to come home to see them. That summer, with my ''parking lot" experience, I was able to get a job at the Ohio Sea World (now defunct). I remember standing in the hot sun, dust from the dirt lots filling my nostrils, and hearing "Johnny be Goode" echo out from the show inside the park. We spent the early morning hours picking up the trash dumped by the visitors from their cars the previous day including foul diapers, bags of over-ripe lunches, empty beer cans, and sometimes (on my luckier days) dollar bills. I even found a really nice 35 MM camera which appeared to have a broken lens. A trip to the camera shop proved it was just the outside lens, and the rest of the camera was intact - yeah me!
My last "free" summer I was able to travel to Europe and spend the summer studying Spanish in Spain. The small town of Denia had more people who spoke German that Spanish (Denia being a prime tourist destination). I still managed to learn enough Spanish to gain a minor for my degree - and to enable to me in later years to teach a bi-lingual 2nd grade class. On my walk to class in the morning I remember looking up a the mountain behind the school and feeling blessed to be able to see that everyday. I spent my afternoons on the Mediterranean - sometimes on the sandy beaches where I met my summer fling, Andre, from the Netherlands, other times at "Las Rotas" where the clear blue water stood out against the rocks, where I met the Italians; we spoke in broken Span-Italian and were somehow able to communicate.
The first summer in Boston I spent working for the boarding school in which I was a dorm parent. First cooking/cleaning in the kitchen for the summer guests, and later with the cleaning crew - preparing the rooms for the coming fall tenets. I did manage to visit downtown and walk the red freedom trail through the Revolutionary War - reliving my favorite period of American History. I also made one trip to the Cape with a cute guy in a small red Spider convertible. He stopped calling on me right after I confessed my love for him - which in the long run was probably for the best.
My second summer in Boston I spent moving to Texas - skipping out on more heartbreak - as I was on the way to my one true love, who I eventually married. That summer (in Texas) I spent virtually homeless; house-sitting and squatting at my boyfriend's until the rental I had set for the fall became available. I used up the money I had saved for 2 years, and had to get a job at the summer's end to tide me through until my teaching job began in the fall. I spent one short week as a cashier, and then broke my foot dancing, making work at Apple Tree no longer an option. Luckily my brother stopped by on his way home from his California internship; he gave me the money I needed to get me through the tough spot. Thank God for family!
Most of the rest of my summers flew by in a blur - I got married, got pregnant, had babies, and took care of the business of making other people happy. In 2011 that changed, as I realized I needed more happiness for me. In July of that year I took matters into my own hands and left my husband of 18 years to get an apartment on my own. The struggle of setting new boundaries and figuring out my new life and trying to make better choices and failing made that a really tough time.
This summer, my 50th summer, I hope for peace and good memories. I have my own new house, a wonderful new job, peaceful sobriety, and hope. I have 50 years of experience to guide me and keep me afloat. As my Dad faces a new cancer and the subsequent surgery, my mother's difficulties in dealing with it, and my own new physical issues that come with being 50, I am glad to have the time to walk back through my 50 summers and know that even though life can be tough, it is also amazing and that given everything, life has been good - especially the summers!
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This post was inspired by the Finish The Sentence prompt of “This Summer …'” As always, our host is the lovely Kristi . Today’s guest hosts are Lisa of the Meaning of Me, Reta of Calculated Chaos and Allie of Latchkey Mom.
