“August is like the Sunday of summer.”
When I was little, December was my favorite month because it meant Christmas presents. My other favorite month was August because it meant birthday presents (yay) and back to school shopping. (What could be better than the smell of new pencils and the crisp white paper of new notebooks?)
Then I grew up and my own little girl would go to school in August. After the annual shopping spree (during which Mommy got school supplies of my own), I would feel a little sad. She was growing up, our summer together was ending, and I would miss her.
Then, one August several years ago, my father passed away. Our time together in this life ended. Our family misses him, but we know we will see him in heaven someday. Still, this month makes me think of loss and endings.
Last year, I came across this quote: “August is like the Sunday of summer.” I love good quotes almost as much as new notebooks, so I spent some time thinking about it.
Sundays are one of my favorite days of the week. After church, we have lunch out with friends, come home and read, maybe nap. Relax. We eat ice cream. We take a walk. We talk about the week ahead—what’s coming up and what we’re looking forward to. I enjoy the day and usually prepare for the coming week. Sundays are good days.
If August is like the Sunday of summer, then September would be like the Monday of fall. It ushers in the promise of cooler weather and a new season. My dad loved fall, football, and the changing leaves. The trees on his and Mom’s property make quite a show of color, and I get to enjoy it with her every year. As she points out the best ones in the yard and in town, I take photos of them to capture the moment with her and to share here with you.
August will always make me think of loss, but now it’ll also remind me of Sundays. And it’ll remind me to look ahead to the coming new season—one of beauty and good things.
What is your favorite month or season and why? Leave a comment and let me know.
Photo of pencils and notebook by David Pennington on Unsplash
