A season of beginnings and endings

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school bus

“It is the glistening autumnal side of summer. I feel a cool vein in the breeze, which braces my thought, and I pass with pleasure over sheltered and sunny portions of the sand where the summer’s heat is undiminished, and I realize what a friend I am losing.” 

— Henry David Thoreau

There is a pang similar to one of loss, tempered with something akin to regret each year when I turn the calendar from August to September.

Another summer nodding farewell. Another season closing on collective childhood. This year it has grabbed my attention in a much more intense way than usual, and I am trying to replace that pinch of regret with excitement for new beginnings.

My first-born grandchild is starting his big journey into kindergarten as school doors opened a couple of days ago. One night, unable to fall asleep, he called for his mama and asked all the questions that were keeping him awake. The momentous step from a couple of hours of preschool to full-day classes is giving him lots to contemplate.

He has so many questions, some that can easily be answered, others that are much harder to put into words, meaning that assurance and answers are harder to come by as well.

I told my daughter that even though I might not be able to describe precisely how her 5-year-old son is feeling, I knew exactly how her mama heart is experiencing it all. This enormous step is such a bittersweet moment for parents everywhere. It is yet another reminder that the days are long but the years are oh so short.

Along with this, my daughter and son-in-law faced the decision of whether or not to send their 3-year-old to preschool under the same roof as her big brother, or wait until next year. My spunky little granddaughter (who my sisters tell me is a spitting image of me at that age) made it clear she was ready and raring to go.

The carefree days of summer shift, abruptly, gears turning with clockwork precision. Demands of that clock and the calendar fall to every member of a family and the community that holds them. The tide turns, the air shifts, a collective sigh of resignation is felt as school buses roll across the countryside and school doors open wide.

This school year, for us, marks the final year in old buildings that are filled with history for so many in this community. When summer closes out next year, a brand new complex will open to hold all students from kindergarten to high school seniors. 

This is a year to behold, footsteps marking both momentous beginnings and incredibly symbolic and tangible endings.

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Judith Sutherland, born and raised on an Ohio family dairy farm, now lives on a 70-acre farm not far from the area where her father’s family settled in the 1850s. Appreciating the tranquility of rural life, Sutherland enjoys sharing a view of her world through writing. Other interests include teaching, reading, training dogs and raising puppies. She and her husband have two children, a son and a daughter, and three grandchildren.

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