The summers that raised us

Summer is here! It’s the time when mosquitoes drive us indoors, kids lose control loudly, and the air conditioner decides to break down on the hottest day! Ah, summer.

Graduations, weddings, vacations, reunions, camping trips, and cookouts fill our calendars. We are switching our boots for flip-flops, coats for t-shirts, and traveling to seek fun adventures.

Summer is a time for children. I believe that without a meaningful summer experience, kids miss out on important truths and lessons that are not taught in a classroom.

When I was young, summer began the first Sunday in June. In the Tennessee hills, everyone would gather at the cemeteries where our families eternally rest beneath tombstones that bear their names. After placing flowers on the graves, we would hold family reunions at picnic grounds or in a cousin’s backyard. Beneath the canopy of oak trees, I absorbed the stories and lore that were shared. Some narratives were hilarious, while others were quite horrific, but I quickly realized that every person has a story to tell.  At a young age, I understood the importance of heritage and felt grateful for those who came before me.

After the early June ritual, I would spend two weeks each summer with my grandmother, whom I affectionately called Grandpa. She always had a banana pudding cooling on the windowsill, waiting for me. To this day, Grandpa is what love looks like to me. I learned what it means to be a grandmother from her. Her home was the safest place on Earth. While Granddaddy planed lumber at his mill, we planned our fishing adventure. Mundane chores such as grocery shopping, tending to the garden, or washing dishes were filled with laughter because Grandpa could find humor in anything, even a can of beans.

Saturdays were dedicated to preparing for Sunday. Grandpa would wash her hair every Saturday morning. As a pre-teen, I began rolling her hair in curlers and using metal clips. I can still feel the silver strands gliding between my fingers.

On Sunday, she was in the kitchen by 5 a.m., preparing the feast she would present after church. Granddaddy taught Sunday school, and Grandpa provided her garden’s white gladiolas for the altar. It was during those Sundays that my faith was grounded. When those who guide us love and trust God, we learn that the source of their love for us comes from Him.

During summer afternoons, my brother taught me how to swim, Mama showed me how to sew, and Daddy shared stories about his own summer as a boy. When I wasn’t playing with friends outdoors, I would spend time with my imaginary friends in my room.

The summers of my childhood taught me to cherish each precious memory and carry them into my future.

After my granddaughter was born, I became like Grandpa. I was determined and undeterred, wanting to pass on the knowledge of what love can do if you take the time to show it.

Summers should not just be about keeping children in camp, playing sports, or planning events; they are an opportunity to teach them the valuable stories that life offers. It’s essential to give children the space to imagine, dream, play, and laugh with wild abandon.

As parents, we often live our dreams through our children. For example, a father may push his child to become the baseball player he never was, or a mother might pressure her child to pursue a career as an actress she always dreamed of being. Unfortunately, this behavior can be selfish and unfair, as it robs our children of the opportunity to pursue their own hopes and dreams. If we want children to succeed in life, it is more than their big wins, the trophies they earn, or the grades they make; it is about the love and kindness they share with others.

A six-year-old boy was a natural athlete, excelling in multiple sports. He played youth football in the fall, baseball in the spring, and tennis in between. When asked which sport he loved the most, he replied, “Football.”

His grandparents chimed in, “Gee, we thought you liked tennis the best!”

He calmly and sincerely responded, “No, I just do that because my daddy loves it.” While he was trying to please his father, one must wonder if his father forgot to prioritize the boy’s own happiness.

As we grow older, we come to understand just how fleeting childhood truly is. We often forget its significance and the joy of being a kid.

This summer, take the time to teach a child how to fly a kite, bait a hook, grow flowers, bake a pie, and share stories from the past. These moments will help them cherish childhood long after summer fades.

Children have only one chance to be kids, and that time passes too quickly.