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“What I Did Last Summer”Summer 2010. The summer of dreams and opportunities. "It’s finally here", I thought to myself as I left my Social Studies exam, "Summer is finally here".
I left the school day dreaming about hot, sandy beaches, cool lemonade, and boundless freedom. From the begininng of May until the end of June I was living with my other mother. Despite our small disagreements, we made it work. We learned to celebrate out similarities and respect our differences, but now I was excited to go visit my mum for a week. My mum and I rarely get to spend one on one time together and I was rejoicing having her to myself. As I walked off the antique ferry dragging my monstrous suitcase behind me, I saw my mum with a notably worried expression. "GET IN THE CAR", she roared as she picked up my suitcase with super human strength. Once we were all loaded in, she sped away just seconds before the ferry traffic came. We laughed out loud; I had forgotten how much she hates ferries and ferry traffic. My mum and I laughed a lot that night as we caught up on the past two months. She showed me her jellyfish wounds and I told her about my exams. I was ecstatic to be with her again. The next morning I was up bright and early for the second day in a row. My mum had a day trip lined up and I was going to tag along. We arrived at the kayak hut before the birds were even up. About ten people were going on this day trip. There was an assistant kayak guide, a couple from the Netherlands, a family of three, and a few others. I helped my mum set up the kayaks with gear, something I was becoming awfully good at. My kayak was a narrow boat with hard chines. This basically means that it tips easily; just the way I like it. When the clients showed up we fit them into their boats and life jackets and then hit the water. The couple with the young son were wearing thick sweaters and were quickly becoming too hot. I offered to put their sweaters in the back of my mum’s boat for them. And with that we were on our way. It was only a six hour paddle including an hour long lunch break. We were paddling along the coast and it was turning out to be a hot and sunny day with farely calm water. It was a perfect day for paddling. On the way to our lunch spot, one man become increasingly uncomfortable in his boat, which is common for beginner paddlers. My mum maneuvered her boat to him and helped him adjust. The wind was particularly strong in the direction we were going. It was taking longer than expected for my mum to help the aching man and the group was drifting farther and farther away from the pair. After about ten minutes, the assistant guide moved the rest of the group into a small bay that was out of the wind. We could no longer see my mum and the man. I waited just outside the bay watching for them. The longest ten minutes of my life passed. At last, I could see them paddling towards us. When we regrouped, my mum told us what had happened. My mum had tried to direct the man in how to fix his foot pegs. To get the foot pegs to come closer, he should pull the strap under his legs. To get the foot pegs to go farther away, he should lossen the strap. Apparently, the man pulled the strap to hard and it snapped. My mum then had to brace her boat against his and reach into the kayak to fix the strap. As she was leaning over, trying to fix his boat, another problem occurred. The back of her boat, where I had previously put the couple’s sweaters, popped open and her boat began to fill with water. Evidently, I hadn’t put the cover on her boat on properly. So now she had to paddle her boat, half full of water, onto shore so that she could empty it out. My bad. Luckily, it was a hot day and the couple didn’t need their now soaking wet sweaters. So I’m not as great at loading boats as I had thought myself to be. My mum just laughed and said she should have checked her own boat and that the situation was a learning experience for everyone. At the end of the day, my mum taught me how to put the boat covers on. The rest of the week went by abnormally quick. My mum didn’t have any more kayak trips, so we spent our days hiking, swimming, and lounging on the beach. We talked for hours about anything and everything. My mum and I still marvel about how we can talk for hours in person, but can barely talk for five minutes on the phone. On the day I had to leave, we had a very melonchalie breakfast. We knew that it would be another two months before we saw each other again. She drove me down to the ferry and helped me get my suitcase, now full of dirty clothes, out of the car. We hugged each other and tried not to cry. Once on the ferry, I let myself cry freely and think about the summer ahead. My other mother is a fourth grade teacher and when her school gets out she is going to come stay with my mum for the rest of the summer. She is a certified kayak guide as well. I, on the other hand, am heading back to the city. This summer will be the longest that I have ever be on my own so far. Most teenagers would be thrilled at living alone for two months, but I know how much I am going to miss my mum. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited to sleep all day and be out all night, but my sense of freedom is a morose one. I have less than a year until I graduate. After that I have ambitions just like all the other people my age. I want to travel and see the world, I want to move away and go to university, and I want to make my mum proud. I feel like this summer is just a training period for my life. The time is coming where I will not live with my mum anymore and I will not see her everyday. Still, I know that no matter what I do in my life, she will always be there.          
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The next morning I was not able to sleep in like all the other lethargic teenagers. Instead, I was up at seven and grumbling to myself about the unnatural time of day. A train and a bus ride later, I was on the ferry to the mainland. My mum has been living in a small sea side town since the beginning of May. It’s the kind of town where you have to slow down on the old back roads, so that you don’t uplift the dust and anger the squatters sitting in their lawn chairs. This is the town where I was raised, although most of the time I try to deny it. My mum goes back there now to be a kayake guide for four months of the year.
Just like she has always been. 
