Labor Day

 Labor Day always signifies an end and a beginning for me. When I picture the calendar, in my head, it’s always started in September. 

To many of you, that seems so strange. For, your year begins January 1st. 

I remember preparing for back to school beginning the July 4th weekend. We’d go to my grandparents cabin in Grand Rapids growing up. My mom would usually take us “in to town”, to start the gathering of the seemingly endless school supply list. 

By Labor Day weekend, we’d have closets full of new clothes, backpacks full of pencils labeled meticulously with our names and a new lunch box ready to be filled. Those new items were surrounded by an air of anticipation. The fresh start always felt so magical. 

Like many of you, I’ve never outgrown the need for a new notebook. My preference has always been Lisa Frank. Glittery is better than a matte finish. Somehow with that fresh page, I feel like I can conquer the world. 

Prior to the use of that new notebook, though, the old has to come to a close. Summer is over, although, there will likely be several more 90+ degree days. Pools get drained or covered. Boats get cleaned out and ready for storage. Gardens begin to die back, weary at the threat of more September heat. Sandals that are now too small or broken don’t get replaced, because tennis shoes are ready to take over. 

The season, whispers goodbye. It gives way to cooler mornings, cooler evenings and tank tops in between. We begin the season where heat/AC/heat are more accurate than the clock. 

There’s a sadness in the change of the season, but for me, there is always immense relief. The days are shorter, and I get less done. But the days are shorter, and I expect to get less done. The cool temps are energizing, and tasks that seemed insurmountable, just weeks ago, are tolerable. 

The expectation to attend every single event ever, goes out the window, because it’s back to school, back to work, back to schedule, back to routine, back to sports, back to “No, I’m sorry, we can’t”. 

It needs to be said, that many of you loathed school, for a multitude of reasons. Some hated it because you didn’t have the right clothes, or you were picked on mercilessly. Others of you, despised it because you were never meant to sit still for 8 hours a day. 

You can hate school. You can embrace new beginnings. You can despise routine. You can cling to new adventures. Every year I seemed to do some of each. I hated sitting still, and I still can’t. I loved the excitement of a new start. I came to hate some of my routine, but I loved learning new things. This is all began the day after Labor Day. 

Every single Labor Day, my entire life my dad has yelled, called or texted “It’s a school night!” 

Of all the things he’s ever said to me, it’s my favorite. 

“It’s a school night”, stands for so much more than that. It means routines, a fresh start, and perhaps a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils. If I have my way, it also means a crisp, sparkly, Lisa Frank notebook. 

While you may not be going back to school, I challenge you to making a fresh start. Even if it’s so minor that others may not notice. Get yourself the equivalent of that new notebook and be better than you were before.