The Conscription of September

 I woke on a dark morning. It was September, the air was chilled, and reality sounded like air-raid sirens warning that I had been deceived. The summer which seemed eternal was only a dream. No wood in the shed yet and a summer's worth of dire projects yet to be started, what happened?

Panic season begins suddenly. It is the annual realization that there are only moments left. It was summer, and we were all rejoicing in it, and then the 99 red balloons drifted over the wall and I knew, this was it.

You would think that I would learn. September is always the same unless you are looking at the Laguna Madre, but even then, December comes. It is a gravity, and you do not get to escape it. You cannot opt-out.

Many months ago I filled this month's calendar with things to do, never thinking about the things that would be undone. Painting myself into a corner that if I do not follow through, I will have regrets.

I stopped at the top of the hill in the crisp cool morning, I thought about what we lost on this last journey around the sun.  Karen, Wayne, Henry, and Joan. We are taking this one without you, but we still remember.  It has been a long journey and in some ways I was only 7 years old moments ago.

Then it was 1975.  I can hear the airwaves as they once sounded, I can smell the air of those days. I can hear every creak in the floor, door closing, fluorescent light humming, and steam radiator banging.

Every moment is indeed precious. There is something that can be made in every one of them. To sit while the world spins and screams through the universe cannot be allowed to happen.

 

You may wonder why all the contrast. Honestly, it is because I AM NOT READY. I really am not. Every moment needs a name.  Every single one. This is just me, having my annual tantrum because I did not understand how short a summer can be once again. I never learn and I am sure that I never will.

 My heart cries out for you Summer. You were there a moment ago and now I am not even sure you ever existed other than in a story that was told to me long ago. Was it a dream? I swear it wasn't. <sigh>

The facade of summer

 There is a time of great forgiveness. A time in which it is deemed the hard times are over. The power of the sun makes us second guess the dark and uncertain of our overall existence.

A common saying, to “ make hay while the sun shines” is more profound than it may seem. It is real courage and real power to do what must be done because incredible imbalance awaits. To be a person who sees it all is a great gift.

I’ve been through 4 completely different lives now and can honestly say I have walked both sides of the barrier. The scars, even though they are scars, in latter years have graduated to trophies. It is odd how much chaos can fortify you and bring peace in a world losing its gravity.

Like a fiery aircraft landing in a jungle, the destination will come. All of the days struggling and all the days coasting, they suddenly make sense, like geometric calculation. I would like to say I always knew, but really, no one could. But in my heart, there was something, yet, I could never imagine.  You just know.