Rev. Vicky's Message September 5, 2024

As summer nears its end, and we approach the season of harvest, I came across a thoughtful Opinion-Guest Essay in the New York Times (9/1/24), entitled How Should We Mourn the End of Summer? by Cody Delistraty (author of The Grief Cure: Looking for the End of Loss). I share a slightly abridged version here. You can read the entire article at https://www.nytimes.com/2024/09/01/opinion/summer-sadness-grief-seasons.html 

How Should We Mourn the End of Summer?

“It comes gradually at first, then, like the Hemingway-ism, suddenly. Beach chairs fold up. Kayaks return to garages. Speculative camping trips remain just that. The plans and possibilities of summer cease.

“The season’s conclusion can spark a sense of loss. That might sound like an overstatement, but as with any experience that ends too soon, there’s a sense that something has been missed out on, that feelings and moments remain just beyond our grasp. Underscored by popular, often misinterpreted concepts like “closure” and the “five stages” leading to “acceptance,” the standard American thinking around loss is to get back to the office, back to school, back to normal. Basically: Suck it up and move on. (Toss your summer whites to the back of the closet and forget about them.)

“What would it look like to rethink this paradigm, starting with the summer? What might it mean to mourn its passing, to grapple with it instead of pushing ever forward? (Italics added)

“It’s easy to get sighs and eye rolls when noting how, even compared with more traditionally respected losses, like the death of a parent, the passing of a pet might merit deep grief, or that there’s legitimacy in mourning something as abstract as the end of summer. But the truth is that loss is relative. If it’s significant to you, even if it’s about something intangible — like losing your sense of purpose or a state of mind or even your summer without feeling you’ve made the most of it — it’s legitimate. It’s not up to others to decide for you.

“As the season comes to a close, I’ve re-upped my lapsed journaling routine. A few experiences I’ve found myself writing about: a trip to California to see my family and a crack-of-dawn walk along Stinson Beach; my first time watching professional bull riding, with the stranger next to me explaining its rules on a hot Cheyenne evening; a constellation of fireflies briefly following me as I walked home from the subway.

“I found myself ruminating not only on what I’d done and what I’d missed but also on what I considered most important. Rituals like journaling, reflecting, and mourning are fundamental to how we psychologically construct the past because they inform us of our values and what we want for our futures. What we do at present, of course, crafts the future. The Buddhist monk Thanissaro Bhikkhu calls this “the process of fabrication.” That’s why the popular framework of pushing loss aside to just get on with life ultimately fails: The only way to create the life you want is to delve into the past.

“Zoom out enough, and everyone, at any time, is going through something. “There is / always grief more than enough, / a heart-load for each of us / on the dusty road,” wrote the poet Mary Oliver. A 2019 survey found that over 70 percent of Americans had grieved over “a life event” in the prior three years, including nearly four in 10 who were mourning the death of a friend or family member. Others mourned relationships ended, illnesses diagnosed, pets deceased and jobs lost. And those are just the “big” ones: Other griefs abound, from mementos misplaced to seasons slipping away. The ubiquity of loss is a reason to treat others with grace and understanding. It’s also a reason to slow down and look backward from time to time.

“While pushing forward is the sociocultural name of the game for Americans grappling with loss, humans largely underestimate how much value they’ll find in reflection.

“All sorts of anxieties might be allayed by attending a little more to what’s preceded them. We might start by simply calling a loss a loss. Once you start looking, there are all sorts of unexpected things one can grieve that often aren’t considered legitimate losses.

“The end of summer might be one of them. With it comes change. The stress of regular life butting its way back in, school and work returning in full force. The phenomenon is usually characterized as dread or nervousness about the forthcoming workweek.

“To my thinking, though, the disquiet that comes from jarring shifts and the unknowable future might be eased by appreciating and learning from the weekend or the summer — or any pleasure once here, now lost. To best greet the new is to become intimate with the old. What a rare, unexpected fortune that the past, like loss, can be neither escaped nor solved.”

I hope you found this piece as meaningful as I did. 

Blessings, 

Rev. Vicky