How can it be Labor Day when we never had summer? How can we celebrate the transition from summer to fall if there never was a summer? So is the lament of many.

While Labor Day has always been a soulful moment, even as adults, we remember back to saying good-bye to pals from camp, from summer cottages, from an unexpected new friend made on a “boring” family holiday. We recall the excitement of back to school clothes, new pens and cracking the spine of a math text book.  It was melancholy and excitement wrapped up in one holiday like no other.

We miss hanging out

During this past April and May, we were in a lockdown mode, suspended from reality. June, July and August gave us a peek at what we had lost, by peeling back the curtain just enough to tell us that maybe, yes, you can eat at a restaurant or go to the beach, but there were rules and fears…. fears and rules.  The slight opening phase made us realize how much we have lost and how important social contact is to us at every level of interaction.

Beach time

We put our beach chairs in the car dutifully as we have done every year so we are ready to go to the beach at a moment’s notice. It never left the trunk. No bathing suit, no sand in our toes, no damp, salty hair and no “too much sun” that made to us shiver in the AC in the car on the way home. There were no soggy sandy sandwiches to unload from our picnic.

For those of us still working, it is mostly a seven-day a week thing. There was no summer vacation, no retreat from emails, texts and deadlines wrapped up in the anxiety for a future. And there was no rhythm to the days or the week.

We need togetherness

So what now?  How can we mourn a summer lost when so many have died or are still sick from Covid, when children will miss the rituals of growing up?  For too many, college is still a room in your parents’ home. There are no chances to “try on” being eight or eighteen and to make requisite mistakes and/or to savor triumphs. We know that we are doing the right thing by wearing masks, social distancing, washing our hands and being smart about, well. almost everything we do. Still it makes us concerned about a generation of children still tethered.

Fall 2020. What can we do to make it ok?  How can we give this season some newness, some hope.  We have always felt that New Year’s resolutions should be on Labor Day not January 1, when in New England we hunker down and pray to make it to March. 

During this past spring, we cleaned the closets, traveled virtually to Santorini, read every new book, cooked like Ina, and took an on-line course in photography.

We have not mentioned until now the upcoming election which adds to the somberness of the moment, to the fear and loathing of harsh words and sad reminders of businesses closed, lives lost, promises broken, soaring debt and cruelty amongst our fellow man and woman.

So it seems that it is time to dig deeper. It is possible that all that we did in the spring was simply to prepare us to dig deeper, be more grateful, write a journal for our grandchildren to read about this pandemic, adopt a new rhythm, or buy an RV.

We have lived an extraordinary life of endless possessions and experiences unlike any other generation.  Think what we have been through and what we have experienced.

 We hope that each and everyone of us will continue to take the time to do better, be better, discover the clichés of peace and harmony, repair the land we have torn up and come out of this crisis, not because of a new vaccine, but rather because we learned the lessons of daily living that we had forgotten.

Stay safe and well.

Lucy and Claudia