I woke up this morning at 5. My plan was to workout before going in to work, however it was still dark. So I shut off the alarm and went back to sleep. It was a reminder that summer is coming to a close and fall is nearly here. Soon the leaves will be changing and here in Flagstaff we will need to start layering. I was in a terrible mood until I remembered that somewhere, a child is starting school.
I remember those last days of childhood summer being filled. They were the last days to play until stars were visible; the last moments of shorts and bikini tops and pigtails. For my sister and me, it was the last days for our wardrobe as well. The last weeks of summer were always spent shopping for new school clothes and the weeding out of clothes my mother deemed inappropriate for public use. Well loved jeans with holes so big you could easily mistake them for shorts and matching boots. Shorts that were too tight or short after a summer of growing and shirts that were missing sleeves, necks, shoulders and middles. They all were phased out, many against our will, to make room for the new.
As much as we hated the loss of our comfortable clothes, there was always great anticipation of the new. I have wonderful memories of trying on new jeans. Oh new jeans. At that time in fashion history, jeans were 100% cotton. 100%. That means that your jeans fit like a second skin, but not when you bought them. Breaking in the new jeans was also an end of summer ritual. Putting them on for the first time in the fitting room and thinking about how maybe this year I’d get hips to fill them out. Perhaps they’ll get a rip in the left knee, just a small one, which I could tear at during math class. Will this sweater be cool in October? Could I wear a t-shirt under it without looking lame? Is this neon color just a fad? Maybe this year, scrunchies will go out of style. So many possibilities are reflected in a dressing room mirror.
I’ve been out of school for over a decade. I miss buying new school supplies. I miss the potential of a new notebook. The beginning of a new year, a clean slate, and the pledge that I would not procrastinate, I would get straight As. The first weeks of school were hopeful days filled with opportunity. My sister now teaches Kindergarten and her new class just started. A whole new set of children with futures unwritten and open to the fears, dreams and hopes that a new fall brings. While the late arrival of dawn heralded the end of another summer and made me slightly depressed, it also marks a new beginning and I’m OK with that.