Feeling the sand tickle my toes and hearing the ocean crashing as the sky is painted in different hues of orange and pink is one of my favorite summer scenes. The scorching sun burned my skin to a crisp as the hood of my car was down. The wind carried my hair through crazy dances with Pursuit of Happiness playing in the background. Catching a plane to an unknown destination with new discoveries waiting. Spending a day in the city, with hordes of stressed-out tourists pushing past you to make it to Times Square with their families in one piece. Summer is a season of happiness for me.
This past summer was different from other summers; I was dissatisfied with my parents’ move and the lack of a car. I was not in my sleepy beach town in Florida but in my childhood suburb in New Jersey. Little did I know this would be the summer I found a new appreciation for change. My friends had not finished university yet, so I was sitting in a bustling cafe in New York City with a book to keep me company. It was an attempt to forget that I had little to no friends and finally ended my toxic relationship. The cafe smelled like a mix of sweet pastries and espresso. It was filled with fashionable students and tourists seeking refuge from the city’s heat. I chose this discreet cafe purely for its location and its Italian vibe. The owners were Sicilian and poured their love for the motherland into their savory pastries. So, as I spilled myself into this romance novel in hopes of satisfying what went so wrong in reality, I heard the hustle and bustle of New York City.
I spent most of my days doing this routine: waking up at 9:35 a.m. sharp, getting ready, kissing my dog goodbye and walking to the NJ Transit. I would come home around 7:00 p.m. when the sun was setting and have a family dinner. Somedays in the city, I would observe the different people in the cafe. I would try to remain discreet when eavesdropping on conversations that were never meant to be overheard. There is a beauty to humans that sounds so cheesy. However, what are the odds that a random stranger decides to come to this cafe to then have a conversation about their impending divorce due to infidelity in the workplace or discuss their last night’s partying events? Hearing the posh soirees and glitzy purchases of some socialite unbeknownst to me, I lived vicariously through them.
However, this semi-lonely routine would soon change to a horde of social activities. My days began at 6:50 a.m., and the train turned into a bus. New York City turned to the middle of the woods about an hour and a half from my home. This was summer camp. I was still determining what to expect as I had never worked as a camp counselor. I had only worked as a sales associate in a sleepy Sarasota, Florida, at a beachwear store. Little did I know I would forge relationships with lifelong friends and experience what it’s like to parent twenty children. Kids are hilarious. One minute, they hate you. Next, they love you. They are somehow without coffee and, to my dismay, are energetic at 7 a.m. They are almost always happy and carefree. I appreciate being surrounded by their energy, as I am the opposite.
Getting caught up in the little things is so easy and it’s almost impossible to notice the amazing things. While this summer was not filled with summer flings, it was filled with laughter and many trips to the shore. It was filled with reconnection of old friendships and new ones. This summer was filled with days in the city, encouraging overpriced thrift stores and trying the best pizza in NYC. It was full of new music and dancing to throwbacks by the firepit burning marshmallows. To summer, never change. You never fail to amaze me.
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