#239: Summer Turns the Corner

Ah, July. You miracle. Of all the months, you are my favorite. You are summer in all its glory. You are bugs and thunderstorms. Green grass and shade trees. In July, the hard work of the spring is finished and the labors of harvest have not yet begun. Even the squirrels have time to play.

The end of July has always felt like the end of summer to me. Especially in the Bluegrass where the rain slows down and things start turning brown. As kids, we all heard the mournful sound of the school bell in the distance as August began. Summer turned nostalgic, something to be remembered. Or something to wring a few more days of wonder from before Labor Day.

This July has been especially full of marvels for me. It started with chemo and ends with freedom. Freedom from toxins. Freedom from radiation. Now is the season of waiting. Waiting to find out if it all worked. Waiting for the blood clot in my chest to pass harmlessly away. Waiting for my mouth, my throat, my beard to return to health. Waiting for my teeth... That's a lot of serenity to sustain!

But waiting is not idleness. There is plenty of work to do. I have to practice swallowing so my body will remember how once food tastes good again. I have to walk, so my lungs will remember how to breathe once I take this tube out of my nose. I have to spend more time sitting up so my veins can do their housekeeping chores without more clots. And I have to love, most of all. So my heart will remember why I've fought so hard.

Just like in the garden, it is time to start the heavy work of the harvest. Spring's labors are bearing fruit. Summer play time is over. It's time for me to start doing a few of the things that Mrs P and Mum have been doing for me.

I'm fifty now. Another year closer to growing up. Thanks, July 2010. I'll never forget you.