Back-To-School Blues?

So what is it about the first week of September that is so depressing to me? Is it simply the name of the month, the one that starts off so warm as August trails off into a three day holiday weekend, then inevitably ends much colder as thoughts begin to turn toward pumpkins, cider, and the annual changing of the seasons? Could it be the memories of back-to-school, the signaling of the end of summer vacation and another year spent in the classroom just trying to hold on to those camp memories? Or, is it simply the knowledge that summer is now almost over, the sun light is quickly fading into shorter days and longer nights, and winter is not far around the corner?

I can’t seem to put my finger on it, but inside I know there is something wrong, something I’m not happy about, something that has my emotions bubbling just below the surface again. Inevitably the annual back-to-school sights, the kids at the local bus stop, the parade of school buses blocking my travels to work, and the increased traffic I now suffer through while we all find our back-to-school rhythms again, always triggers memories of school. Surprisingly, they are all good memories. I’ve long since been numbed to the pain of the taunting and teasing I endured in my youth, become a bit jaded over the years I suppose, but also become secure enough in myself and my beliefs that the name calling doesn’t bother me anymore. I find myself reminded of mornings spent gathered with friends gossiping about one thing or another, lunch times spent talking about the big game or upcoming dance, and afternoons wasted playing games that kids play. I also remember the people who were important to me back then, those who made a difference in my life, and who provided the examples I was so desperately in need of while I was trying to find my place in the world and make strides toward a future outside of school. Maybe that is why the sadness always seems to come around this time each year, maybe I just miss the time I spent in their shadows, watching and listening, modeling my choices and beliefs into someone I knew they would be proud to know.