There it is again, as regular as clockwork. As much as I try to “reason” my way out of it, that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach just won’t go away. It turns up every year at the same time. The Labour Day Blues.
The main trigger for these blues is the unofficial end of the summer. The weather suddenly turns from too hot and humid to nippy, almost overnight it seems. There is dew on the grass and condensation on the windows of the car in the morning. The days are becoming noticeably shorter. The air conditioning in the house has been shut off for the season and the windows can be opened again. OK, I guess there is an upside.
Our family makes its last official trip to the cottage on the Labour Day weekend. We invite friends along, but the weekend involves winterizing the place – the canoe gets stowed under the cottage, the outdoor furniture is carried inside, the cupboards are emptied of food and beverages. At home I have to make room for a second bottle of ketchup, extra mayonnaise and butter, excess cans of soup and numerous boxes of Kraft Dinner. The only thing there is never any extra of is wine – I have drunk it all in an attempt to self-soothe.
And then there is the prospect of back to school and a return to the whirl of activity. As my sons have grown older and less dependent, the burden of homework and lessons have lessened (for me, anyway), but the fact remains that life gets far more structured. More driving, less sleeping in. Forms to sign, fees to pay. Less social spontaneity, more rote routine.
Truth is, I adore summer! I love the hot, sunny days. I relish the time at the cottage. I live for the annual slowdown in the pace of life and the relative lack of obligations. The Labour Day long weekend signals the end of summertime’s easy living. My mood plummets, along with the temperatures.
I am not the first to feel this way about this time of year. I clearly recall, even through the haze of childhood self-involvement, my mother’s lament each September as her daughters returned to school. I think she felt exactly as I do – she liked having her kids home with her and not having to run from pillar to post, all while enjoying the warmer weather. My sister tells me she is not immune to the Labour Day Blues either, despite the fact she does not have kids returning to school. Perhaps it is a family affliction? Or perhaps others feel as we do? Googling does not bring me the answer I seek.
I suspect living in a location where the summer lasts beyond Labour Day might bring some relief of my symptoms. I haven’t put this to the test yet, but would be happy to make the experiment anytime! In the meantime, The Fiancé has to suffer through this annual ritual with me – whether he wants to or not. As a university professor, he too returns to school in September after having much of August off – but he seems just fine, thank you very much!
The good news is that I know by now there is an antidote to my condition: the passage of time. As the days roll past Labour Day, the deep foreboding dissipates as I ease into the new fall routine and finally accept that summer is gone for another year. Besides, as the pace picks up, there is less time to brood as new matters demand my attention – the busy bee has no time for sorrow.
So, ultimately, I know I will be all right. At least for now. Until I hit the next bump in my annual cycle of ups and downs – right after the New Year, in the depths of dark January. … Something to look forward to, I guess.
NOTE: A version of this essay was published in the September 2022 edition of Neighbours of Windfields magazine. Click here to read it.
Marina your sentiments about summer tweak my memory banks.
As a child I can still recall having that sinking feeling every Labour Day weekend . Whether it was the closing of ‘the Ex’ – Mum and Dad made sure to take us to see the Air Show which really meant the end- , the scent of newly sharpened Laurentian coloured pencils in my school bag , or the hems of dresses to be ‘taken down’ in preparation for the start of school, I can still relive in my head that sad feeling that another childhood summer was over.
The first day of school was always exciting but pretty soon turned into routine.
As a stay at home Mum it was bittersweet. Fun to see the kids with their new haircuts all dressed up and excited for school sporting their new clothes, lunchboxes and back packs but brought a few silent tears to my eyes missing the laughter and carefree chattering!
Ah yes, the passage of time.
Now I’m a Grannie and I still mourn the summers end. Never enough time to take Grandkids to the beach, teach them how to bake , sew or hammer nails with Grampa. August has flown like the wind.
What a vivid picture you paint of Labour Day/start of school from the perspective of a child, mother and grannie, Pam. Could exactly recall the smell of those sharpened pencils. While our kids/grandkids still use pencils, I do wonder in this time of technology if our kids will have the same strong association of new pencils and the start of school… Remember how the little pink erasers wore down too quickly or else dried out and became useless? Thanks for bringing back all these memories!
I completely agree that summers ends too quickly. and I feel it even more this summer! For me, it’s getting back to work, which I have doing all summer anyway because we didn’t take a holiday, just a few cottage days here and there. But it did seem to fly by this year. Maybe because we’re getting older? Oh well, enjoy the last two weeks and hopefully we’ll have a beautiful fall this year. Mexico for us end of October so I won’t even be putting away my summer clothes until November. Find whatever little rituals you can to hang on the summer a little longer, including no left over wine!
Love this, Christy! So nice that you have something warm and sunny to look forward to in October. And, yes, we need to find our happiness where we can, even if the end of summer is a little sad. 🙂