This seems to be my summer to be confronted with memories about yesteryears – the good and the bad – the scary and the elated. First, we decide to go to Bermuda and confront the reality of a time 50 years ago that I considered idyllic. And, it was, but I realized it was only a piece of the good and not the only good in my childhood. Plus, it stimulated all kinds of ordinary living memories of years in my life of which I had no memories. Now I remember things like washing dishes with my brother. Taking Sunday drives, walking in the woods, playing at scientist. I’m also remembering more bad things, but that’s okay – they are just part of that time of life, and I can handle what they bring.
On Friday, my best friend from my first semester in college is coming to visit. I’ve talked with her a couple of times in the past two years, but I haven’t seen her since 1964. I remember walking around campus with her in the rain, sharing her wonderful Pendleton cape, wearing cowboy boots when Capezio flats were in style. I don’t remember how I met her husband, to whom I introduced her. I barely remember their elopement even though I was called into the dean’s office when she turned up absent from the dorm. And, alcohol blurred most of the memories after that – the birth of their son, their moving away. So now, I get to hear about those memories and live again those times.
In September, my first cousin, his wife, son, daughter-in-law and child are coming to visit. Now I have visited with them at their home several times, and they have been here once. Ray says what he really wants to do is sit on the porch and talk with me. Ummmm, that means that I’ll be delving into memories from another part of my life – his memories and mine – which separate – looking at who our parents (my mother and his father were siblings) were to the world, to us. Now, he won’t put any of this in those words, but I will.
I think this summer will be good for me, and I’m looking forward to every minute of it. If the humidity and heat will cooperate, I think I’ll be “elling the d” – translation “Living the dream.”