Holding On and Letting Go: The In-Between of the Last Days of Summer

The days are stretching just a little shorter now. The air, though still warm (and some days, oppressively hot), carries that subtle whisper of change. Summer is winding down, and with it comes a swirl of emotions.

In our home, we are living right at the edge of endings and beginnings. The renovations around us are a constant reminder that change, while sometimes messy, makes space for something new. We watched the tearing down and are living in the building back stage, with drywall hung and wires hanging from the ceiling where lights will soon illuminate the space. We are patiently (often impatiently) waiting for it to all come together. One child is preparing to step into grade 11, while the other is preparing for something much bigger – military service. It has been a summer of going through some highs and lows with each of them, and as we look to September our hearts swell with pride, while at the same time aching with the bittersweetness of growing up and letting go.

I imagine many of you are feeling something similar. Maybe you are walking your little one to kindergarten for the very first time. Maybe you’re helping your teenager pack for college. Maybe you are simply holding your breath as another school year begins, grateful for the joy and chaos that children bring, and aware of how quickly it all moves.

And for my colleagues in education, this is the time when summer’s slower rhythm brushes up against the anticipation of a new school year. We’re savouring the last mornings without alarm clocks while also getting excited about classrooms and hallways filled with possibility, laughter, and learning.

Wherever you are – celebrating, feeling a little sad, or waiting for what comes next – this is the invitation: be here. Let yourself notice the last ice cream run, the golden evening light, the conversations around the table. Let yourself feel both the joy and the ache. Both are part of the story. Both are what make this journey of life both beautiful and human.

As summer fades into fall, may we hold these final moments gently. Change is always waiting for us, but today we still have the gift of now.