I’m not ready.
As the sun set tonight, so does summer 2016.
As the sun rises tomorrow, another season begins.
Three of us will head off to school bright and early. A new schedule, new weekly rhythm. New students to meet; new learnings to discover; new goals to attain. This new season is exciting and it comes with its own joys. Yet tonight it is not the future I’m concerned about, it is what’s past and unfinished.
The summer house projects are not done, in fact we have piles of dirt and landscaping rock in the driveway waiting for their permanent home in our front yard. I have more bike paths to explore and want more hot summer nights. The weather has been beautiful. And there are the writing projects that aren’t yet complete. As a person who loves checking items off my list, my summer checklist isn’t done. I am not ready for summer to come to a close. Yet ready or not, here it comes.
Tonight dreams for this season, and the images I had of summer 2016, all move from hopes to memories … from what’s ahead to what has past. Sure, there were great parts of the summer. Big moments, like watching the Olympics, having a family reunion, and going on a mission trip to Louisville. And there were fun, ordinary days, like biking around the Cities, impromptu fires in the backyard with college kids, and going to Twins games. But this day is always melancholy for me. The melancholy comes not from the value of the summer (the summer can be great or awful, it doesn’t matter). The melancholy comes from the passing of it.
You see summer is my favorite season and it is always hard parting ways. The sun rises later and sets earlier, the jackets come out and the leaves turn brilliant colors, and the hours of my day have more demands in the fall. Soon enough I will come to embrace the gift of fall, but tonight I recognize the end of another chapter, another summer season come and gone. And unlike the shift from fall to winter or winter to spring, the change from summer to fall can be marked on my calendar. Scheduled, yet still abrupt, summer concludes on Labor Day. This year it ended with four of us gathered around the table for dinner, a Netflix movie, and an early bedtime.
Thanks summer 2016 for the lessons you taught me, the space you let me explore, and for the many people I shared memorable moments with. The memories are stored in my phone and in my soul. To all who were apart of it in some big or small way, thank you.