The Rewards of Our Labors

Labor Day doesn't get a whole lot of respect. It's thrown in there at the end of summer, sort of a little vacation bump in between July 4 and Thanksgiving. The kids love it because they were thinking that summer was over. When I was a child, we had school vacation the proper way -- we got out right after Memorial Day and whiled away those slow, heat-blanketed days until Labor Day. It was wonderful. Then when September came, we were chomping at the bit to get back to school. New, crisp clothes from the Sears catalog and the promise of Friday night football games hung in the air. I felt it again the other evening, when I heard the drumbeat from the high school marching band float over to our yummy front porch. There is a Fall coming, I just know it. 

Ken and I have had several weeks of extra work -- he at the plant and me with events. We're tired. I hadn't straightened my house or cleaned it good in quite the stretch, but we really wanted to hang out with our kids for Labor Day this year. Miraculously, we got the house presentable enough that, hopefully, no one would get listeria or other bacterial infections. All of the children, grandchildren, Grandma Judy and then a family from our church piled in. Everyone brought meat and side dishes. I forgot the plates, so Ken ran to the store last-minute to pick up paper goods. He walked in with "Chinet" brand. I have been married for 41-1/2 years and have never bought fancy paper plates. We've suffered through those really flimsy ones, where you have to stack 3 or 4 of them or you risk them collapsing. Then there's the foam ones, who appear sturdy until the spaghetti slides right off. Or you pierce your watermelon and stick a fork right through it. And there's no abiding trying to cut a steak on a paper plate. I said, "I can't believe you bought those! They cost a fortune!" Ken said, "I'm over it. I'm tired of terrible paper plates so I bit the bullet and got them. And two sizes, one for the kids and one for the adults." What is happening in my house? 

After we ate, everyone wound up in the backyard around the firepit, then dozens of kids piled on the groaning trampoline. That thing's going to split in half soon. The mosquitos began to invade, insecticide was passed around despite our fears of the dangers of deet. As the sun went down, the earth cooled around us, and we relaxed and laughed about anything and nothing at all. We drifted back into the house, where the pieces of the evening and the evidences of life lived made themselves known. I'm always amazed at the transformation of clean to dirty, then back to clean again, in very short order after a gathering. Babies began to yawn and long for home, Daddies and Mamas anticipated tomorrow's labors. We hugged and said goodbyes as vehicles pulled out. Ken and I dashed the finishing touches on the kitchen and then plopped onto the couch. 

He reached over and took my hand and said, "It has been a good day." And it really was...