“Only 18 summers.”
It’s a phrase I’ve seen a few different places lately, referring to the limited amount of time parents have for intentional, one-on-one influence before their kids go to college or leave home for other reasons.
It’s encouragement to make the most of every cold bite of watermelon, every lazy day around the pool, every family vacation. It’s a reminder that time is fleeting, that before we know it our children will fly the coop and the only tangible artifacts we’ll have from their first 18 years are boxes full of dusty sports trophies, camp T-shirts and band concert programs.
I get the point. I really do.