August 07, 2009

The End Of Summer

Summer is nearly at a close. I always get particularly melancholy at the end of summer. As a child, I loved the summer. It was my time. I was cute, always looked older than my age (now? I look younger . . . go figure). Summer meant fun, it meant being young. The end of summer was like the end of an era - one you couldn't possibly believe could ever see a repeat.

As a teen, some days I'd put on a bikini, saddle (maybe) up my horse . . . his name was Ralph . . . and ride. I'd ride for hours and hours and hours. I'd find a pretty spot and let Ralph wander around and I'd just lay on his back and catch some rays. I was very flexible then (still am).

Other days, I'd lay on a chaise in my yard listening to music as loud as I could crank it and flaunting what the good Lord gave me and what a teenage girl didn't have the sense to cover up.

My mom was always out in the yard - pruning her prized roses. I had a friend - he'd been my friend since we were in preschool. He'd ride his bike to my house and when my mom wasn't looking, he'd pick one of her roses and lay it on my window sill - it faced the road. He was always so sweet to me when no one was looking ;)

The summertime meant swimming all day at the local spring fed pond. The lifeguards were always cute, the music was always loud, and the atmosphere was perfect. Or it meant boating at the lake, swinging into the river on a rope swing, or marshmallows at night, or cruising for boys at the mall or in the McDonald's parking lot . . .

As I got older and could drive, summertime meant marathon days with my beau. We'd meet up in the morning and part late at night. We'd get drunk, play cards, sit on the shore of the lake or argue about the genius of Bob Dylan.
Summertime meant all his "boys" would show up on the porch with their instruments. We'd set up a porch band. My sister and I would sing - she'd play bass sometimes, I'd play rhythm guitar or easy lead sometimes - if my boyfriend was being nice. We'd get wasted and play all day. Then at night we'd light fireworks and run around the yard like we were wild and free . . . and we were.

Summertime. It was beaches and sand, music and cars, beer and burgers. It was fireflies, and soft kisses in the dark, it was tanning oil and bikinis. Motorcycles, horses, boats, and marshmallows. Hay lofts, hay bales, horseback rides in the dark. Fire pits, guitars and best friends. There was no rhyme or reason . . . Summertime was simply youth - that moment in time that you could stop on any given day and bottle. It was bliss.

I don't feel young anymore. I'm not old, I just don't feel young. My last two summertimes have been filled with stress and pain. So the end of this summer is particularly melancholy.

My son is growing up before my eyes and I can't stop it. My family is falling apart at the seams, and I can't stop it. I'll never again, giggle long into a summer night with my sister about nothing or cruise the beach together giggling about the brave souls who bare all these days. . . This summertime wasn't filled with laughter and fun the way it was back then.

So, these last few weeks of summer, my plan is to try to recapture an old summertime. Tonight? I'm going out with my biker friends (don't tell mom - though I promise to wear a lid), I'm going to get a beer and make a toast by the lake - maybe even act the fool and jump in.

Maybe tomorrow, I'll saddle up an old friend and take a long, long ride. Or, maybe I'll restring my guitar and sing a bad rendition of Wish You Were Here . . . Maybe I'll flaunt what the good Lord gave me and I've still not got the good sense to cover up ;)

Or, maybe I'll just sit in the black of my back yard and count fireflies in the dark, sip a glass of wine, and toast my baby sister.

Summertime's about memories, feeling young and vibrant, so before this summertime's lights go out . . . I'm going out to get me some memories made. I'd like to feel whole, young and wild again . . . if only for a moment in time. That teenage bliss you should be able to bottle and sell? When the only thing that mattered was what color bathing suit would match your toenails? I'm looking for that - just one more time.

Posted by Oddybobo at August 7, 2009 10:08 AM | TrackBack

Life, dearie, it is meant to be lived. Remember the past, but don't forget to breathe.

Who knows what delights tomorrow has in store?

; )

Posted by: Christina at August 7, 2009 11:02 AM

Enjoy today while keeping your feet planted solidly on the ground.

Posted by: JihadGene at August 7, 2009 11:18 AM

Sometimes I think I'd be a better person if I could only forget my youth; like yours, it was pert near perfect.

But it's part of who we are; what made us the people we are today... what if we didn't have those memories to call up in times of great need? So, yeah. Use them as you need.


Posted by: Pam at August 7, 2009 11:57 AM

Ah, Oddy, I'll say a little prayer that your family is either healed or that at least the result is as God intends. As for your son growing up, that is something God intends. And at each stage of his growth there is pain, yes, but also joy.
He looks to be about ready for a bike, oh there is joy in that. And wait until you see him on a horse, tall and proud!

Before you know it he'll be a teenager, worrying you sick one minute and proud as a peacock the next.

Life goes on, Oddy, filled with pain one day and joy the next. And we grow older, and one day wake up in our 60s wondering where our lives went, then we see pictures of our grandchildren on the mantle and we know. And we smile. And then a momory brings a tear for those we lost and a smile for what we did with those we lost. This is your life, Oddy. Live it and love it. And know you have friends you'll never even see that are thinking of roses on Oddy's windowsill.

Posted by: Peter at August 7, 2009 01:38 PM

Hope things get better your way, and your family is able to bear their burdens. And your boy is entering (IMHO) the most fun years to have a little boy around. Hug and kiss him every day, and tell him you love him, so he'll seek your affection (hopefully) even in his teen years. That's when you'll know it was worth it.

Posted by: diamond dave at August 8, 2009 01:58 AM

Those memories will always be yours, nothing can take them away from you. Cherish them but don't forget to make new memories for your little man to cherish someday when he looks back on life.

I can only imagine how rough the last couple of summers have been for you. If I could I would wave my magic wand and make all the pain go away. Know that we are thinking of you,,,

Posted by: Michele at August 8, 2009 12:47 PM

I have never had a summer as bad as yours has been and I pray that I never do. I also pray that healing occurs and that you are given the guidance you need to do what you need to do...

But of all the ups and downs I've had in my life... I cannot completely recapture all that it was when I was young and carefree as my youth was like yours... perfect.

I cannot recapture that. But we also forget the drama and the angst and how we certainly did not think it was perfect.

I would not completely go back, but maybe for snippets. ;-)

I will tell you... that I have known the thrill of that happiness since. There are smatterings of times when my life is simpler and I revel in it. There are times when it is just... very very good.

And it will happen again. It will. Have faith and work on healing. And when it happens again, you will know it and you will appreciate it for what it is.

Posted by: Bou at August 9, 2009 07:39 PM

sigh... I remember summers similar. sucks kids don't have those sorts of summers anymore.


Posted by: patti at August 9, 2009 09:41 PM

Sounds like a wonderful idea... I hope the summertime bliss finds you again. Soon... {{hugs}}

Posted by: Richmond at August 10, 2009 04:31 PM

summary caused societies small imposed part

Posted by: graehammul at August 12, 2009 10:37 AM