Summer break looked different for each of my children. That’s what made it work.

More than New Year’s celebrations and their birthdays, the first and last days of school each year were the greatest markers of time’s passage in my five children’s lives.

I can still recall their nervous excitement as they anticipated the start of school each fall and their relief as it ended nine months later.

I loved their enthusiasm for learning, especially during their earliest years in a classroom.

They took their jobs as students seriously but were always eager to celebrate that final assignment and 10 weeks off before starting the cycle over again.

For me, watching the months tick by brought on waves of melancholy.

It made me sad to realize how quickly the years were passing.

On top of that, as a single mother, it was up to me to find ways to keep them safe and occupied during the weeks the school doors were locked.

I was fortunate to have a flexible work-from-home schedule that could accommodate all their activities.

It worked well during the three seasons they were at school.

It was more challenging during the summer.

It’s not that I didn’t welcome the slower pace of the warmer months when we swapped the frenzy of early-morning wake-ups for a calmer, more relaxed entry into a less structured day.

It was the tension I felt while sequestered in my home office, wondering what they might be doing and feeling guilty for not offering them an enhanced experience while they were home.

With the promise of afternoons at the community pool if they allowed me to work uninterrupted in the mornings, we created a system that served us all well until I transitioned to a full-time, office-based job.

My two oldest sons had summer jobs when I started a new job, but the three younger kids didn’t.

Our very small town, only 3 square miles in size, offered daily activities in the park for school-aged children up to age 12.

Believing in safety in numbers, I allowed my younger children to walk to the park together to participate.

That worked for a few years, but given the spread in ages — my oldest and my youngest share the same birthday, 16 years apart — they quickly aged out of the program, and I had to find alternatives.

When my daughter entered her teens, she decided to adopt a family with an actively involved father.

She missed having a dad in her life, so she latched onto a classmate and was welcomed as a part-time member of their household.

She frequently slept at their home, attended events with their extended family, and even went camping with them.

Occasionally, my youngest son would join them, but he did not feel as attached as she did.

By the time my youngest was a preteen, his older siblings had moved from our home.

They were forging lives as young adults, making him an only child in a large family.

That’s when I started sending him on vacation with others.

For two consecutive summers, I sent him to Michigan with his best friend’s family.

I felt relieved that he wasn’t sitting home alone while I was at work.

He enjoyed these trips to a lakefront house where he could fish, pick berries, and just hang out.

When he turned 12, I started sending him to San Francisco each summer to celebrate the July birthday he shared with his oldest brother.

He would fly across the country on his own to spend a month in the Bay Area.

He turned 16 in a college dorm there while attending a summer semester at the university where he eventually enrolled after high school.

After class, he’d walk to his brother’s apartment, where they’d share dinner before returning to his room on campus.

I was lonely during the summer, but I think it was a good decision to let them go.

Even though I missed them, I knew they were having fun with people who cared about them.

It was the solution that resolved our problem, but also enveloped them in the love of more people who cared about their well-being.