Farewell to the Summer that Never Really Happened

Well, here I am on the eve of August 31, 2020. Tomorrow is September 1 and the launch of the LPJ Virtual Classroom - a full semester of online learning for young children. Although my own 3 children have been in school (albeit online) for almost two weeks now, there’s still something about it turning from August to September that really seems to finally seal off the summer vibe and usher in the fall. It is especially bittersweet this year.

Today on my FB feed one of my LPJ mom friends (who is a gifted and thoughtful writer) wrote the line, “Tomorrow is September. The summer that didn’t happen is now over.” It hit me like a dagger. Where has the time gone? You would imagine that a long season of worry and confinement and isolation from friends and neighbors and from traveling to the places you most love, would feel like the longest stretch of time ever. And indeed, in some ways it does seem very long. But having been here , mostly in my house, from March 14th through September 1st, enduring the spring that never happened into and through the summer that never happened, it actually feels like it has moved along rather quickly! Like time has evaporated like sand through my fingertips. This makes me sad for so many reasons. I guess it makes me realize that it is indeed the people and the events of our lives that mark it with the timestamp we’ve come to know as the changing seasons. Without them it just appears to be an empty calendar. I’m not saying their haven’t been good times. We are blessed to have a large family filling this house and we have enjoyed each others company and have made the most of the few outdoor activities that were safe and convenient enough to frequent. We also added another family to our ‘pod’ which afforded extended fun and much-needed mental health benefits for us all. We are healthy and paying (most of) our bills. I cannot deny that we are so fortunate. But the time that has been lost is something valuable that I am grieving a bit tonight.

Moving now bravely into fall, I have to wonder, how can I avoid making this season just a few more empty pages in the wall calendar that is the COVID-19 era (AKA, 2020)? It can’t be about about the hustle and bustle of back-to-school (although I have really done my best to hype that up to myself and anyone else who will listen to me! Have you SEEN the LPJ Virtual Classroom Campaign!? LOL!), nor can it be about the endless pumpkin spice lattés I would normally sip on the playground with my co-teachers. It likely cannot be about Halloween, because aside from everyone already voluntarily wearing masks, there isn’t much else about the holiday that seems very pandemic-safe! I don’t have confidence that we will even get to fill our home with beloved family and friends for our typically large Friendsgiving or Christmas Eve gatherings! So where will our timestamps come from?

Even without an anchor, I am committed to finding a way to elevate the everyday and take back these last fleeting months of this seemingly cursed year. Holding near and dear my nuclear family and our precious ‘pod’ will reign as top priority. I hope I will find more ways to pause and take mental snapshots of the memories we are making during this epic time in history. I won’t charge ahead and insist that 2021 come sooner, but will be intentional with the day that is set before me - even if it is a little less sparkly than in years past. Apple pies can still be made. Halloween disguises can still we worn. Turkey and mashed potatoes can still fill my belly while my heart is filled with humble gratitude for what still is.

And so …farewell to the summer that quietly came and went. And hello to a new season of living more slowly and intentionally. With a fitting nod to my affection for the French language, let me suggest to myself and to you, let us not just survive, but truly remember to vive! Happy almost fall, y’all!