June Bugs and Bits ~ Travelogue Interruptus

       If you are waiting for EireLandings Part 9 (and I do hope you are!), it will be along.  For the moment, the month of June has reached out to me from the calendar and needs a little attention.

      SO, here's a bit about what bugs me in     

       As a child, June was the magical mystical month of beginnings.  The days grew longer, the summer began, and the freedom from the rigors of school made even rainy days bright.  The lovely lightning bugs (aka fireflies) arrived with their glowing tails twinkling in the barely dusk, growing brighter as the darkness deepened. Whoever saw them first sounded the call.  Mayonnaise jars were readied, holes punched in the tops for air and blades of grass were added as if for food.  The capturing began - how many could you get - enough to be able to read by in bed?  Any left by morning to release?  Sometimes yes, mostly no.  

   As I got older June meant the opening of the pool at my dad's WWII and Korea Veterans Club with early morning swimming lessons in ice-like spring-fed water that turned us blue, followed by all day sunbathing that turned us red. Later it was swim-team practice and 50 laps a day (if you didn't lose count on purpose or not).

       Then there was the Sunday in June before my Tuesday graduation from high school.  A baccalaureate service at the school - a sort of not-quite churchy program of music (some were actual Protestant hymns) by the choir (of which I was a member) and the school orchestra.  Lots of lining up and nice things said, applause, and family pride (I don't remember any of mine being there actually) but most of that part has faded from my memory. 

       But what came after remains, in its sweetness and in its startling turn of events days later. 

       My first crush, from 7th grade, was but long since a good friend who made me laugh along with the group of others I had become part of including my new crush and real-time boyfriend.  First crush came to take me for a ride on his motorcycle - more accurately, I was at his house with the group and he offered.  My father was out of town and my mother would never have permitted but his girlfriend didn't mind.  Off we went into the sunny afternoon into the back roads of the wooded valley - up and down hills, around curves, my hair blowing and we laughed all the way.  It was glorious.  And then...on Friday as he rode that motorcycle to work, he was hit broadside because he jumped a red light at a busy intersection.  He died a few days later, age 19. 

       Jump ahead 15 years and his mother, who treated me like one of her own, died two weeks after my first husband who died ten years and a day after our son's death - all in June.  At one point someone I thought I was madly in love with even married someone named June! And there is also the birthday of the best love of my life, a date that will live with me forever as I had hoped he would.  June and I have a complicated relationship. There are other months, of course, that have dates that are better or not so good, but, for me, June seems to lead the year.

       And yet...it is about to be summer again. 

       All the dates come, receive my heart's acknowledgement, and pass by in 24 quick-moving hours.  The sun is bright once again; I haven't seen the lightning bugs yet this year but I will be looking, albeit without the mayonnaise jar. 

       If you've been paying attention you know that I just came back from an amazing journey through Ireland with my two grown daughters and two aunts ages 85 and 92. (If you haven't been paying attention it's not too late to catch up!)  Today I Skyped with my 18 month old granddaughter who squealed when she saw me and blew kisses.  I got a text from my 7 year old granddaughter yesterday who is waiting for me to come next week for her dance recital, "Only 6 more sleeps, Grammy!" I spent time with my 7 year old triplet nephews this week, one who has a broken arm, one who has strep throat, and the other who is just fine.  Lunch on the Riverfront with a friend, a great film with another, and the possibility of a chance to do some serious and fun consulting work with other friends.  The Greek Festival is next week and the Jazz Fest the following, "A Midsummer Night's Dream" at Longwood Gardens outdoor theater, patient escorting at the Veterans Hospital, reading the lessons at the 8:00 o'clock service - there is so much to do to celebrate life. 

                                                  

       "Life is for the Living!" announced my late mother loudly one day from the depths of her dementia.  And so it is, and so I am alive, and I intend to live with every fiber of my being and my spirit.  SO, it's June and I have much to celebrate.