Ah, summer….when the days are long and stretched out in light and heat and possibilities. For many of us, summer was the best thing about being a kid. There was no school, you could play all day, and go out again after dinner because it was still light out. Summer offered an escape where you could disappear into a book, or the swimming pool, or a favorite hiding place, and just be with your own imagination for a while.
Often, thinking about our childhood summers can spark a dream, or remind us of something we’ve forgotten we loved.
I grew up on Long Island, east of New York City, in a suburban wonderland of green lawns and good schools, and a mix of Jewish and Catholic families. Summer was weekly visits to the library, and staying up late with Beezus and Ramona, and Encyclopedia Brown. Summer was lying on the sweet, grassy slope in our front yard, imagining shapes in the clouds. Summer was playing kickball with the neighbor kids in the school yard across the street until dark. I was the youngest, and always had to leave before the game was over, called home by my mother flashing the front porch light on and off.
Summer was car trips to Washington, DC, and the Pennsylvania Amish country, with my parents taking turns behind the wheel, and me, in the backseat, reading the map. Summer was swimming in a lake in upstate New York, and spending a week in Atlantic City with my Philadelphia cousins. We always stayed at a Holiday Inn, because kids were free, and they had a swimming pool.
Summer was a Chocolate Eclair Bar from the Good Humor truck, and peaches so ripe that the sticky juice dripped down my face. Summer was standing in front of the window air conditioner in my grandparents’ apartment, sweating so much that the backs of my legs stuck to the plastic covers on their sofa.
Summer was blowing wishes on dandelions, and mowing patterns in the lawn with my father’s push mower. Summer was playing TV tag, and Red Light, Green Light, and climbing across the monkey bars, not afraid to let go of one rung to reach the other.
Summer was doing hiney-boppers in Ilene Miller’s above ground pool, and tumble tucking off the low diving board at the Plainview pool. Summer was sleepover parties with Fran and Karen, and hours of riding our bikes on the blacktop of the schoolyard, pretending we were teenagers, driving to our own apartments.
Summer was catching fireflies in a jar, grilling Hebrew National hot dogs in the backyard, and jumping off of my father’s shoulders into the breaking waves at Jones Beach. Summer was being stuck in traffic coming home, me in the back seat of our station wagon, happily distracted by the salty-sweet smell of the ocean on my arms.
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What do you remember about summer? What were your favorite things to do? Where did you hang out? Who were your best friends?
Do you still enjoy any of your childhood summer favorites? Does remembering something about your childhood summers spark something you’d like to be or do in your life now?
I’d love to hear your summer memories.
