July 6th…If Only

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July 6th…If Only

This missive is woefully past due which I have known for three weeks, four days and nine and half hours. The trouble is I am somewhere between sardonic and sassy these days – my default whenever life throws an overextended series of soft curveballs. Nothing major. Just the stuckness that comes with a to-do list that has more on it than time to do it and an inability to shake the generational plague of seeking to flaunt a hero cape in order to make everything perfect. Whatever. It works! Sometimes. As long as everyone sticks to the (my) plan.

But here’s the deal. I kind of don’t like the plan anymore. It’s boring and repetitive. There is a constant sense of urgency: filling out paperwork for next season’s activities, planning for holidays two months away, adjusting the budget for Year End. It’s too woe-is-me when there’s no real woe for me. Life is full, choices are confusing, things just happen, sometimes it hurts, sometimes it’s dull. Often it’s just plain silly.

You know what would be fun? If it were summer. If it were summer, I would wear my bathing suit in the car, a beach towel between me and the hot pleather seat, the seatbelt strap slapping against my bare shoulder, the AC on full blast, mixing with the warm wind from the four open windows. If it were summer, we would pile into the way-back of the truck, leave the tailgate down, eight bare legs dangling down ready to jump out as soon as we reach the ice cream stand. If it were summer, I’d sit itching my nose as the oscillating fan blew a stray wisp of hair across my face, but I’d be too engrossed in my chick-lit to tuck it back behind my ear. If it were summer, it would be light out until almost nine, the sun’s rays swapping for the twinkle of stars and lightning bugs, sandy feet, warm air, whispering wind, sweet smells, soft music…hush.

If only it were summer. Then maybe I would set the plan aside and play. Maybe I would get over myself. Maybe, in the enduring dusk, I would sit quietly holding a loved one’s hand and not speak at all. And we would be ok, together. And I would wish this for all the world; the okayness that sweet summer can bring. Its respite and release and relief. If only it were summer…

Hush,
Allison

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