As the winter winds make their way into Chicago, I can’t help but reminisce about the summer. The hot, sweltering summer. Don’t get me wrong – the scorching, sticky weather is the last thing I would ever want, but the memories from the summer keep flooding my mind.

I can’t help but reminisce laying my head on my mom’s lap as the warm wind floods through the window screen attempting to cool us in the 90 degree weather. As my head rests on my mom’s bony leg, she sings along the classic Pakistani song blasting through my phone’s speaker. The sweet tunes of Kahan Ho Tum blend in with the humid air, creating a comforting atmosphere. My mom gently runs her soft hands through my hair. Comfort. Love. The sun blares through the windows. Cars speed past our home. Children yell and scream outside while they chase each other. I miss the summer.

But I’m excited for the winter. I’m excited to see the ground flood with the fluffy snow. I’m excited to snuggle with my mom under a warm blanket as she gently runs her soft hands through my hair. I’m excited to blast Kahe Ko Byahi Bides as we slurp on sweet hot chocolate. I’m excited to create even warmer memories. Though the seasons change, our love stays the same.