Once again, it’s summer in the city and all I want to do is get OUT! This is the worst feeling! I grew up going to the lake every summer with my mom and siblings. We had a trailer, and her sister had one right next door. We kids would be so helpful packing because we wanted to make sure that Mom brought all our favourite stuff and that we could leave as soon as humanly possible.
I loved those summers…. my cousin and I would be inseparable from the first gas fill-up. I’d switch with his sister, so she could ride with my sister, and he and I would conspire the rest of the journey.
Long days outside in the lake, on the beach, in the woods; dinners by the fire, long nights stargazing, and the best sleeps. Both my mom and my aunt have since passed. One trailer succumbed to a fire, unrestorable; the other was “stolen” by my late aunt’s third husband.
My cousin and I stayed very close until a tragic accident sent him into drug addiction, depression and then one day he disappeared. I think he needed a restart. I’m not angry; I just miss him.
When you wake up one morning to that “sudden” summer heat, it signals to me that it’s trailer time. I get so sad at this time of year, I just need to get out.
What should I do?
Summers in the city
I’m so sorry for the many losses you have suffered. It’s clear that your childhood summers were idyllic and through no fault of your own, those days are no longer accessible. Each blow pushed it further into a thing of the past.
You didn’t mention your age, a partner or the rest of your family. The obvious question is, why don’t you get a trailer of your own? But perhaps that’s not feasible financially or you don’t have anyone to share it with and going alone isn’t the same. You mentioned a sister and another cousin…. Might they want to recreate the good old days?
If ownership is out of the question, what about renting for a week? Do you have friends with cottages or cabins? Perhaps see if they would like a guest for a day or two. Take day trips out of the city. Find a river or a lake to jump in to. Being in nature is very grounding and it sounds as though you need that right about now.
It may be too late for this year, but plan ahead for next.
My wife has our summer booked from the day she finishes work, as a teacher, to the day she starts. This is the third year that we’ve been in this summer schedule, and though I love that she’s on vacation, and that she plans many fun activities, I’m not sure I can keep up.
We’ve just spent an extended long weekend at her mother’s cottage, with her sister and her two kids. I’m working for three days, but then we’re going camping with friends for another extended long weekend. I work another three days and then we’re driving out East to see family at their cottage.
And at least two of the three nights I’m working, we have dinner plans, drinks with friends on a patio, friends over for socializing, etc. I’m exhausted and need some down time, and I want to spend time alone with my wife.
Summer’s just begun
At the first available moment, ask your wife if she can meet you for lunch (hopefully she hasn’t booked that up too). Tell her how much fun she makes summertime, how much you love all her planning, but that you simply can’t handle every night socializing and that you want to spend some time alone with her.
Then ask if you can look at the rest of the summer, post the east coast trip, with her and make plans together.
FEEDBACK Regarding the deluge of issues (April 24):
Reader – “One step at a time, make a list, prioritize. Plus, one thing I learned early in my career: Shit happens to everyone.
“Learn to accept that you can only do what you can do; that everyone has mental and physical limits. So, accept that some things may not get done within the timeline that others may prefer.
“When it all calms down, you can look back and accept that you survived. Years ago, while working on a high-pressure project, my co-worker suddenly passed away from a massive heart attack. The project survived and succeeded. There are ALWAYS others who have it worse than you.
“Finally, just remember to breathe.”