You know, I like to believe sometimes that each and every year is different. Completely unique, like a little snowflake. That I feel it all differently and that I evolve a little from summer ending to summer ending so that the emotions are more mature or more realized with each passing year.
But as I pull from my archives this year and find this one from almost exactly this same time last year, I see that it’s all the same. Like the seasons, my emotions at the end of August or beginning of September are pretty predictable. Sadness mixed with relief that still comes out in more than a few tears.
These words I wrote last September still ring so very true today.
Tomorrow is a big day.
First full day of school. Baby boy’s first day with our beloved nanny who is so familiar to us, but new to him. The first day of a new schedule and new routines and new rhythms that soon will feel comfortable and worn in but at first will feel tight and a bit stiff.
I’ve been looking forward to this day. I’ve had my eyes locked on September 9 for weeks.
And yet, tonight, I’m feeling a little sad.
The past several weeks have been a mish mash. The worlds that I normally try to keep separate have melded. Home and work. Momming and writing. All of life blended together in one big mixing bowl. And it was chaotic and stressful and busy. I like keeping things separate. Work here. Family there. Not all together.
But through it all, we made it work. And though we rushed from moment to moment, when I look back, I see that we slowed down once in each moment. And I’ll miss those moments. Early mornings at the park. Eating lunch together around the dining table. Getting work done while raising my babies and feeling it all so strongly all the time. For a bit, it was good. For a bit, it felt right.
And so, although I’ve longed for this day, and I thought I’d greet it with nothing but relief and excitement and oh-my-goodness-thank-goodness-we’re-back, I feel a little end of summer sorrow. A little bit of the post-summer let down. A bit of longing for another season gone.
The feeling surprised me at first. But now I’m settling into it and even wrapping myself up in it a bit. Because to come out of a time that felt so crazy as it was going on, and still feel this sadness at its passing, well there is hope in that. Hope that even the craziest and most chaotic of times are not without redemption. Not without some lightness. Not without the love and beauty that I strive for when we’re together.
Tomorrow is a big day. I will miss them. I will think about them constantly as each of us go off in our separate directions once again. And I’ll try to distract myself with how nice it feels to type a complete sentence without interruption and how lovely it is to go to the bathroom by myself. I’ll challenge my girl to see how hard she can squeeze at our goodbye hugs and look forward to the end-of-day reunion. I’ll dive deeply back into their worlds once we’re all back home and confidently put all thoughts of work and words out of my mind. I’ll separate again. Work here. Family there. And it will be good.