The End Of August

Fall is in the air. The air smells different and the light has changed. The dark stays later in the morning and arrives earlier in the evening. The weather is cooler. It's time for school to start.

I have always loved this time of year. As a child I couldn't wait for school to start again. Life at my house was turbulent and unpredictable, while school offered order and routine. I liked to read and write and raise my hand. I knew what to expect at school, and I was ready to go.

When it came time for my young children to start school, I was just as excited for them. We'd shop for clothes and school supplies, and we'd talk about all the things they would learn. In the morning of the first day I would take photos in the yard. Then the bus would come and away they'd go to discover what was new. Upon their return they would share their first-day adventures and a new school year would be underway.

The years of middle school and high school brought early mornings and hot lunches and walking to school with friends. My children had more to learn and less to share, more to do and less time to do it. Time together revolved around meals and activities and riding in the car. Conversations mattered. They were growing up and finding their own way.

The start of each college year required more planning and held a different kind of adventure. There were classes to select and schedules to set. There were decisions to make and paperwork to complete. Then the car would be packed full of life's essentials, with just enough room for family. Down the road we'd go to Albany or Boston, prepared to do what needed to be done on the other end before we all went out to eat. There was always a meal together before we said good-bye, so the student could unpack in their new space and get settled in. The rest of us went on our way, with promises of phone calls and emails and week-end visits.

Though I was sad to say good-bye, I was glad for the reason. Each of my children was ready for college when they went. They were independent and capable and every bit of the person they needed to be to succeed.

My youngest son, T, started a fall co-op schedule last year, so fall 2007 was the last time we packed the car and took to the road for school. I didn't know then that would be the last time. This week-end T was home and I was reminiscing about those moves to college in the fall and how much I enjoyed the experience. My son remembered the time as chaotic, while I remembered the time together and the fun shared.

Last year Labor Day was early and both of my sons were home. I wrote a post about it that ended like this: It was a family week-end that felt like more than a transition from one month to another, one season into another. It was time together that marked the transition from a family of parents and children to a family of adults ~ related friends who decided to spend time with each other for no other reason than they wanted to ~ people with interconnected lives who now stand alone more often than not and still choose to come together when given the chance.

This time of year reminds me of the years I have spent letting go. I wouldn't go back for the world, but I would have liked to hold onto the time we had together for just a little while longer....