It’s back to school time. The time of the year when parents gleefully post pictures of themselves jumping for joy as their children shuffle off for their first day.
But not me. I’ve been dreading tomorrow since the minute the final bell rang in June.
Maybe it’s because I mark the passage of time by the school year instead of the calendar year.
Maybe it’s because my oldest is 10 now which means I only have 8 summers left with him at home. I have fewer summers left than I have had and as each one ends, my heart is heavier than it was before.