A Maine Mom’s First-Day-of-School Mountain Tradition Is a Lesson in Letting Go

Every year on the first day of school, I hike a mountain. 

Not because I'm training for anything. Not because it's easy. And definitely not because I wake up thinking, "You know what sounds fun today? Climbing uphill." 

It started years ago when my son was heading off to school for the very first time. Like so many parents, I was emotional. I remember telling him I was probably going to cry all day because he was beginning a brand-new adventure and growing up way too fast. 

He looked at me and said something I'll never forget. 

"Then you should go have an adventure too." 

From the mouths of babes, right? 

That one sentence changed the way I looked at his first day of school. Or his "firsts" all together. 

Instead of feeling sad about how quickly time passes, I lace up my sneaks every year, grab my dog, and head for the mountain.

While he's off learning something new, I'm challenging myself, breathing fresh air, and reminding myself that growth isn't just for kids. 

Some years the hike feels easy. Other years, every step feels heavy. But that's kind of the point. 

Life is full of seasons where letting go is hard. Watching the people you love become more independent is bittersweet. I've learned that the best way for me to handle those emotions is to keep moving forward, too. 

By the time I reach the top, my heart feels lighter, my mind is clearer, and I'm reminded that every new chapter deserves to be celebrated, not feared. 

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And I'll admit, when I get to the summit, I cry. Duh.

It's become one of my favorite traditions, and I wouldn't trade it for anything.