Labor Day weekend is one of those bittersweet times of the year. Time to say good-bye to summer, good-bye to warm weather, good-bye to long, lazy days, good-bye to weekends at the beach, good-bye to feeling the freshly-cut grass under our bare feet. Good-bye perhaps to a newly-minted college freshman?
Where did the summer go?
Time to say hello to schedules, hello to routines, hello to new teachers, hello to all those projects we now have the energy to tackle, hello to the anticipation of crisp fall air. Hello perhaps to returning adult children?
My son returned home after five years of living on his own throughout college and after graduation. The inventory began arriving about a week before he did. Where did all this stuff come from? Clearly he is too young to have accumulated it all. (Clearly I am far too young to be his mother.) His apartment was about as big as my dining room table. Where was all this stuff stored that now adorns every inch of floor space and piece of furniture in the family room? Where was all this stuff kept that was dropped in the garage on his way into the house? Where, oh where, did he keep all the clothes that have eagerly taken up residence in the laundry room?
His bedroom needed a hefty dose of sprucing up, hence the inventory parceled out among the remaining clear spaces at the family homestead. The bedroom that has served for the last several years as a spare, and became the respository for every spare thing we owned, is being turned over to its rightful owner. Where will all this stuff go?
Sort. Purge, purge, purge. Organize.
Welcome home, my son.