Today, it’s hot. Much too hot for grammar lessons or read alouds or algebra. It’s a wide open day of sunshine, made for plunging into the lake or settling under the canopy of a sturdy pine with a book that’s good for nothing but escape. It’s a day for watermelon the color of your toenail polish and sticky chins and tan lines.
But seasons come and go. So I look for beauty in the transitions.
I drink iced coffee but the scent of pumpkin spice is around the corner ready to seep into my fall. I want to dig in my heels and demand the days slow down. But the leaves will recast themselves into a fierce canary and crimson tangle in the autumn air. And the children will put on scarves and mittens and rake them into a mound to leap through like they’re scattering giant flakes of golden-amber confetti. And on that day, I’ll try holding onto the sound of their laughter and the crunch of their boots in fall.
I’ll pause to appreciate the coziness of a hot mug and pumpkin pie for $5 at Costco and the throw-blankets we’ll pull out and tuck around our laps as we read snuggled up tight underneath.
I live across a span of seasons, a 1st grader, a 6th grader, and a junior taller than his father. He’ll get his drivers license this year and have classes at the community college instead of my kitchen table. I’ll probably cry like I did his first day of Kindergarten and then I’ll go home to the younger kids and teach multiplication of one-digit numbers and how to identify pronoun shifts.
I vacillate moment by moment between wanting it to speed up and slow down. Sometimes I forget to be present right now.
Every season is a goodbye, a death of sorts and an awakening. I have never been good with transitions but the momentum keeps me moving on. Keeps me pushing in for strength and for wisdom in the unknown when life rearranges into new normals.
I’m learning to say my hellos and goodbyes well.
There is no pause in the process, only paying attention. Only appreciation for where you are, whatever season you find yourself in.
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-This post originally appeared at AliaJoy.com, published with permission.
