Summer is passing by in a kaleidoscope of colour splashed days.
It seems the refrain, “rain, rain go away,” that fell steadily along with the raindrops has, at least for the moment, ceased.
And it is good.
They say we remember moments and I believe that to be true!
For me, moments of this summer too good to be forgotten are already filling my own personal memory bank to the brim.
And that is good, also.
An unexpected illness kind of caught me off guard for awhile. It seemed in less than a heartbeat I found myself at the mercy of doctors and nurses all of whom seemed to know much more about me than I did.
It made me quite uncomfortable, indeed, and I longed for normalcy, even if involved menial tasks like scrubbing toilets and taking out the garbage. Weirdly enough when you are laying in a hospital bed, even having the option of being able to do those tasks seems quite wonderful!
Weird, how the mind works.
Anyway, after a short stay in the hospital, which seemed like at least two million years to me, I was sent home.
Suddenly, everything seemed more beautiful.
The sun. The sky. The flowers. The traffic. The smells. Even the cluttered kitchen counter looked great.
I felt like I wanted to cook supper, burn something, throw a load of laundry on the couch and then get into a lengthy discussion on the phone and answer the doorbell simultaneously.
Then I would know for sure I was home.
And, of course, all of the above has happened.
And summer, with all its bounty, has just kept on, keeping on, bringing with it moments; memory keeping moments.
Winter, for sure, does have its own particular charm, although, for the life I me, I cannot recall what it is.
But, summer. Ahhh! Summer is wonderful; sit on the deck, admire the flowers, drink wine, chat with friends, wonderful!
And, I’ve done that and I have to say I am super grateful for friends, flowers, the way the clouds drift aimlessly by, interrupting the faultless blue sky overhead, but only ever so gently and, of course, wine.
Wine helps wash down supper, even if it is burned.
I haven’t really learned anything new this summer.
I still struggle with organization and continue to buy magazines that offer 101 ways to fix that problem.
I still procrastinate and have a tendency to do the hard stuff last or not at all.
I still read the end of the book first.
I guess what I have learned is something I always knew to be true, anyway.
Blessings come in all shapes and sizes and can come to us in the most unexpected ways.
My flowers are definitely eye candy, bringing me every colour of the rainbow as they raise their perky little faces to the sun each and every morning.
But, this summer, during my bout on the other side of health, even their delightful beauty paled in comparison to the face of a loved one sitting by my hospital bed saying, “what do you need? How can I help? I’m here for you.”
And then to show their love for me even more they offered to eat all my hospital food up and bring me non-hospital food like chips and licorice and Cuban lunch chocolate bars (who knew they would return)
Anyway, summer’s been good. I have been scared appropriately by ‘an exploding outhouse,’ my husband’s homemade gift to our eight-year-old grandson and had Molly the dog, who thinks she is a lap dog, but isn’t, sit on my lap on a trip to Dairy Queen. I have had tea with a 12-year-old granddaughter who is on her way to Little League playoffs in Victoria and spent a glorious sun drenched afternoon hanging out with teenagers who reminded me about how little I know about stuff.
I have taken a trip down memory lane with a very dear friend and chatted with my sister every single day on the phone.
And as the wheel of summer keeps going round, one thing I know for sure.
At the end of the day, it’s the little things that count.
The little things that matter!
Treena Mielke is the editor of the Rimbey Review. She lives in Sylvan Lake with her family.