A Frenzied Love Affair

Summer came like a gentle lover and went away like a frenzied love affair.

My daughter read this article and said, “It doesn’t make sense, what’s with the gentle lover and frenzied love affair? It’s better to love and lost, than never loved at all?”

It’s a metaphor. The summer started with calm days, yard work, newly planted flowers and grass. We built and dreamed in the gentle breeze. The rains cooled off the days, kept the heat at a minimum.  Even the pesky little bugs and mosquitos stayed away from the Blanco.

Then, summer took off like a love affair, wild, out-of-control and no brakes.  No more time to dream or sit and rock in the evenings. We put out the welcome mat. We left the light on and our long lost relatives showed up on our doorstep.

Out-of-town guests, lots of cars filling parking lots, and standing in long lines at the restaurants and stores. Rivers were filled with happy people floating by. We all went into high gear making hay while the sun was shining.

Our children arrived from California on July 1st for a working vacation. They rolled up their sleeves and said. “We’re going to help you with a garage sale, lets get it done. Daddy needs help to divorce himself of 45 years of accumulated memories.”

My Sweet Al is a lover. He holds the things he loves with a tight fist and respects the objects of his affection. He loved and lost as he watched his memories ride off in a large dumpster. I clapped and smiled as they went away.

I offered My Sweet Al a tissue to dab his tears, assured him that it was okay to hold a place in his heart for lost loved ones. He would surely love again. Then I celebrated his loss with a good meal, invited the whole family, and he paid for our fun.

The Fourth of July came with traditions, craft booths, front row seats in front of Jamie’s, a picnic by the Gazebo, and more people. Our family watched the fireworks from Light Plant Road as we squeezed into a parking place. We also enjoyed an awesome musical at the high school.

It’s been a crazy summer. It felt good while it lasted, lots of good times, but we’re glad it’s almost over. We spent late nights at the softball field with doubleheaders. Four nights a week we watched our grandson and son-in-law’s teams play softball.

The contractor poured the foundation for the garage in May and by the middle of July, the garage was finished. He hung the last door and shut it. For two months, the crew showed up at our door at 8am and worked until 5pm. He took his crew, said goodbye and left. We now hold a signed-approved certificate. It was a little sad to see the crew leave. I had grown accustomed to their faces.

Do you remember the blue truck, which My Sweet Al couldn’t let go of? Well, it’s gone. The blue diamond sat in our yard for fifteen years, and is now being shown off by someone else. It was passed on to a new lover. One of the workers kept his eyes on that truck as he came to work daily. He swooned over it and found a way to win it over from Al. Now we see the truck proudly driven all over town.

The Pagosa Plunge Mud Run capped off the month of July. Our children, who are passionate about the Booster Club, support the boys and girls athletics. They enticed us to help run the concession stand at the event. The planning committee work diligently for one year to make it a success and they’re already making plans for next year. We’re too old for a Mud Run, but we showed up for the kids and will probably do it again next year.

Years ago Al and I held Christian artist and writers’ retreats in our home and at Snow Wolf Lodge. It’s been several years since we had organized a retreat. Friends, artists, and writers had met every year for over twenty-one years here in Pagosa and they asked to come together again.  It seemed fitting to have a Full Circle Reunion this summer with people we have grown old with. It was good times, naps in the afternoon, sipping Geritol tonic, knee slapping, lots of rocking and reminiscing with life-time friends.

My Sweet Al and I drove to town behind a vehicle swerving and crossing the yellow line. We wondered what was going on until we read on the windows, Just Married. In love. Happy Days Ahead. They were spending their honeymoon here in Pagosa.

Within five minutes in town, another vehicle sped passed us with a phone number written in white on the window. Above it read, Just divorced, call me.

I said to My Sweet Al, can you believe it? She’s ready to start over again. It’s kinda like a metaphor. We’ve heard it’s going to be a hard winter, but by spring we’ll be looking forward to summer again.

Final Brushstroke! We said goodbye to guests, summer activities, too many cars and people coming out of the woodwork. Yet by next summer we’ll make plans and we’ll put out the welcome mat again. Why? Because it’s better to love and lost, than to never loved at all. The newly divorcee is already giving out her number and the honeymooners might be looking at a hard winter.

Right now, I’m thrilled things are slowing down. I’m sitting and rocking next to My Sweet Al. I’m looking forward to Saturday nights, watching Hell on Wheels and swooning over Cullen Bohannon. Can’t get much better than that.