EVER SINCE YOU WERE GONE I FELT DEPRESSED
EVERY MONTH, EVERY YEAR THAT PASSED
EVERY SMILE ON YOUR FACE
EVERY ACT OF GRACE
IT REALLY IS KEEPING ME AWAKE…
We rose to more sun, even if the fabled storms were on the march. Outside the bathroom window, I looked at the rolling hill of green grass that led down to the pool. Bushes of spiraea in umbrels of pink hosted clouds of happy bees, while the vining heads of bittersweet unfurled their pesky tendrils. A pale purple clematis shrugged off a few striking blooms. Summer in the moment of a morning…
Downstairs, I could already hear the kids in action. How much summer living had we already slept through? Kids are magical in the way a few minutes can elongate into hours, in the way that so much can seem to happen in such a short stretch of space, in the way their perception bends time. I wanted to slow things down as well. The day of departure begins with the recognition of impending change. Andy headed down while I took a quick shower.
As I got dressed, I looked over the little chalkboard on which the boys had written welcome messages. Gift bags that they had filled were off to the side and I suddenly felt sadness at having to leave. There was never enough time. Especially when children are involved. Soon there would come a day when these summer mornings weren’t quite as magical, when they didn’t hold as much hope and promise as a kid who just finished the school year feels. It’s still a while off for Julian and Cameron, and I only wish they hold onto them, enjoy them, and wring out every bit of laughter, sunshine, tears, happiness, and love as they possibly can. Hopefully they’ll also remember the guys who visited at the start of summer. (To make sure that those guys remember too, I’ve written it down in these blog posts.)
Over breakfast we talked over our summer plans, what little there were of them. Summer isn’t something that should be completely planned out, but it’s always good to have something substantial to look forward to. We tentatively planned a stop-by at our house – it’s been years since they’ve visited, and it would be lovely to have the kids see where we live. Eventually, the boys found occupation in the family room, as Cameron executed some gymnastic splits and Julian prepared a song on the ukulele.
I wandered in to help Cameron change out outfits for his Lego characters. A bald man wore a dress. A princess spun her hair around and became Sia. Another princess did a back-bend. The imagination bamboozled all boundaries; the power of childhood obliterated constrictions. With a fanciful eye for fashion and color (he wrote a little story on Frida Kahlo which he had colored in bright and bold shades that would have made her proud), Cameron was an exuberant life force, embodying the freedom of a childhood lived to the fullest. I hoped he would stay that way, never changing no matter what.
Andy joined us as Julian readied a song he had just written – and by written I mean he had created the lyrics and music from start to finish – which comes naturally to some, but will always be an insanely impressive feat to someone who only remembers the opening chords to ‘Private Dancer’ on the piano after seven years of weekly lessons. (I can do a bit of ‘The Rose’ too, thank you very much.) Julian is very much a musical prodigy – he’d just shown off by jumping into a couple of Madonna tunes from YouTube. Now his ukulele was strumming to the sound of his own music, his own melody, and his own words. As it was last year, this year his song would be one of the highlights of our visit.
The sun poured into the living room, and after a spat of a quick downpour, summer was once again preening in sparkling beauty. As I loaded the car, I paused by the sundrops along the walkway. They glowed in the sunlight, their cheery yellow petals still holding onto a couple of twinkling raindrops. I waited until the memory was made, then went back inside to say our goodbyes.
BUT WHEN YOU FLY AND YOU’RE FAR AWAY
WHEN IT’S KEEPING ME AWAKE
BUT THE THING THAT IS NEVER GONE AWAY
IS THE LOVE THAT’S BETWEEN YOU AND I…
