Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;
–William Shakespeare
Sonnet 18
As another Labor Day winds down, I begin to feel the same nagging knot in my stomach that has troubled me on so many Labor Days past. Truly, this observance represents the most bittersweet of all the holidays…at least to me. Most notably, it marks the end of summer. Though officially still clinging for a couple more weeks, in reality it’s over. Back to school. Back to work. Close the pool. The end of days. Labor Day, huh! The recognition, in fact, the celebration of trade unions by the federal government in 1882. My guess would be that very few of us think about that.
Today was fine. I got to spend some time with my daughters and new granddaughters. And two years ago we helped my sister with some home renovations and repairs. But why, on even a good day, do I sense the invasion of the butterflies?
I guess, as a student, I never really enjoyed going to school. I didn’t do particularly well. I was not a traditional learner. And that meant trouble. Our system didn’t then, and still does not accommodate alternative learners. As and educator, for all those years, I tried to ease the pain of students like me. Regrettably I never had much success along those lines. So as a teacher and administrator I still felt woozy on the first Monday in September.
The “sweet” of the “bitter”, is some fond memories of family outings. My father was a construction worker, who could not afford to take time off in the summer, so we never really went on family vacations. Instead, my mother would research fun trips to take over the long end-of-summer weekend. It was the days before air conditioned cars, so all the windows were down as the Bel Air traveled the highways and bi-ways. The AM radio blared WOR and WMCA as we wound our way to such magical places as The Gingerbread Castle in Hamburg, NJ, Plain And Fancy Farm in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and Niagara Falls (“Slowly I turn!!!) They were modest trips mostly, but such wonderful memories of quality family times. They made me forget my school phobia for a couple of days at least.
My favorite trip, by far, was to a place called Santa’s Workshop. Although by map, located near Wilmington, New York, its official post office is North Pole. I remember the reindeer, Santa’s helpers, the brightly colored German architecture, and some great puppet shows. Also, there was a balloon twisting show, for which my ten year old self was chosen as a volunteer. Of course the jolly man himself appeared and there was a continually frozen “North Pole”, a wonder of refrigeration technology. It was a fabulous time. In fact, we enjoyed it so much we returned a couple years later. According to RoadsideAmerica.com, it’s still going strong. I guess summers’ end is inevitable but good memories definitely help sooth its passing.
Another Labor Day come and gone. I lost my sister this year. She was an important part of those family outings. I miss her goodness. The house that we helped her renovate is up for sale. My granddaughters are twelve days old. Another year begins.
billbenbarker 