labor day

Growing up on Lookout Mountain, there were a gazillion pine trees - half of which were in our yard on Scenic Highway. Our yard was so huge that it took a poor kid five hours to mow it with a push mower. I was that poor kid. There were always plenty of pine trees for every kid in the neighborhood to hide behind during a game of hide & seek. Ours was the yard to come to if you wanted to build a pine needle fort or have a good pine cone battle.

Every time I think of Labor Day, I think of pine needles. Labor Day to all the Finlayson kids meant laboring in the yard. We might have been freed from school work, but we were not free from raking pine straw. You wouldn't believe the pine needle yield we harvested each year. I spent all of my youth with the misconception that one had to work on Labor Day.

Today I am at the our clinic. Lymphedema patients need to receive five days of lymphedema treatment per week. This usually means that most holidays - Gina has to work. Since we've opened our practice, Gina works through most holidays and even on Christmas Eve. So today I am at the office thinking of the holiday and wondering why it works out in favor for so many families but my family. Labor Day is and I guess will always mean a labor day. No ribs on the backyard barbie, just ham sandwiches at the clinic. The upside to this Labor Day is that I still get to be with family, and I don't have to pick up a rake.