My father’s death definitively demarcated this summer – August 1 was the line between happy and sad, good and bad, before and after Dad. In so many ways, this summer realized one of my greatest fears in life – losing a parent. I remember when Andy’s Mom died, one of the first things he said was that what he feared the most had just happened, and in some small consoling sense it offered the slightest relief. I finally understood what he meant. This summer will always and only be about saying goodbye to my father, and as sad and sorrowful as that was, it also managed to be exquisitely beautiful and peaceful.
When the summer first began, we had no indication of how it would turn out. There was only the fresh hope and excitement of a new season at hand. Looking back over how it all began, it feels far away, like an entirely different world, but the start of summer has always felt markedly different from the end.
A celebratory beginning to the season was launched a few days early, when Steve Barnes wrote this amazing profile on me for the Times Union. As is my wont, I flew into a typical churning of over-thinking and over-reacting before I could simply enjoy and take pride and pleasure in it. I mention the silliness now as juxtaposition to the very real concerns and worries that would later engulf us – how I would come to miss such silliness.
This was supposed to be our Bohemian Summer, with friends arriving and lounging by the pool, a throwback to gathering with groups and giving in to the wild abandon that only summer can produce. We made our summer wishes, scattering the ashes to the warm breeze at hand. Walking in the garden, we began in our usual ambulatory bath of floral beauty. It all felt so full of possibility.
Summer makes music matter more, and this old-school summer playlist recalled favorites from the past – most of which I still enjoy to this day, and all rekindle more carefree moments and years. Speaking of music, no one has made it better than Madonna, and in honoring the past twenty years of this blog, here are the top twenty Madonna Timeline entries.
All too soon June came to a close, and July arrived, with a brand new (old) scent by Tom Ford. July meant more flowers, as seen in the last of these Japanese iris blooms, and more
In a sign of troubling times, Madonna postponed the launch of her Celebration Tour, which meant the long string of canceled events that began with COVID continued in earnest, and more stormy days were to come. Before that, however, one final note of happiness was sounded as I returned to New York City for the first time since January 2019. Fittingly, it was with Suzie, and we met up with Chris (and Tommy and Janet) for a Broadway rendezvous. Such wonderful people, such good friends, and such a happy weekend.
The rest of the month was spent focusing on Dad and the turn he took. Posts necessarily dwindled, but for special events such as my Godson’s first birthday and our real anniversary I tried to do them justice. And when this blog went completely dark for a while, this summer recollection post gave anyone who wanted to read more that opportunity.
When August arrived, Dad departed this physical world. It was, for the most part, a peaceful and happy finale to a long and well-lived life of 92 years, and mostly I’m grateful for the time we had these last few months and years, and the way Mom was able to care for him in a way that allowed for the best possible transition. As we find our way in world without Dad’s physical presence, I’m trying to find him in other ways, and largely it’s been a comfort.
As if August wasn’t lovely enough, Andy and I finally – after avoiding it all these years – caught COVID and it was as enjoyable as all reports have been. To this day, I am still coughing on occasion, and it continued a month of awfulness.
We slowly made our way through August. I focused as much as I could on my meditations and mindfulness, not always successful at warding off the sorrow, but I did it every day, and that consistence was seeing me through. My birthday was a dismal echo of what it used to be, and maybe that shift was a long time coming and I’m only now awakening to what a birthday should be as an adult.
A song for swimming, even if I haven’t been in the pool since July. A full blue moon – the second full moon of August – fell into place in the sky, marking a month I was happy to watch depart.
Finally, September arrived. I’ve never wanted a fall to descend as much as I wanted this one – an end to this summer was not cause for upset. Dad was still very much with me, as he visited in this dream. It marked my first time back in Boston since he passed, and it was very much a family affair, as Noah and Emi joined me to make it all relatively fun.
Returning to upstate New York, we celebrated Dad’s first heavenly birthday. It continues the start of a long year of firsts without him, and some will hurt more than others. All will remind that he is still part of us, still present in some way. And so this summer has passed on too, like the very best and most beloved things; it had to come to an end, and a continuation. The initial segue into fall is mostly a seamless one – demarcated by an hour or two, the subtle shift seen in the slant of the sun and moon, and otherwise undetectable from one day to another. Over time, the changes will reveal themselves in a more pronounced manner. For now, we continue, and we begin the first steps to the next summer.
See you back here tomorrow, when it’s fall.
