I’ve been thinking this week about how I will remember this current summer, and the only big thing that comes to mind is Harry Potter, but I’m sure most anyone who is involved with the fandom will remember this as the summer of Harry Potter. But how will I remember it personally? As the unmemorable summer.
I usually consider summer a time to accomplish a great number of things, none of which have anything to do with school, which is the beauty of it. But I really haven’t done much this summer to speak of. I haven’t visited the Ave Maria Grotto, Jimmy Carter Library, or Lincoln’s Birthplace. The furthest I’ve been is out to Murfreesburo for a party.
I know for sure that I will remember this as the summer that my grandfather died. More than I month later I still find it odd to think that he is not here anymore. Earlier this evening I was talking to my grandmother and she was saying how she had dinner at my aunt’s house, and in my mind I was imagining my grandfather being right there with her, but then I had to stop myself.
I think I knew before this summer even began that it was meant to be a wash. I’ll be turning 20 rather soon, and there’s nothing remarkable about turning 20 when you really think about it. So I’ve been waiting all summer to still have another yet another year before I can drink in public. Now that’s a depressing thought.
