Lost July

Where did July go?

There never again will be a July, 2007 and it might be just as well.

Fortunately, there were no tragedies in my immediate family, but it did seem that we were painfully aware and often painfully empathetic towards those who did suffer.

July should have been a month during which families laugh, play, rest and re-create themselves in a good way. For too many, the families were downsized by some calamity and they were forced to re-create their existence without a child, without a brother or sister. Here I speak of local issues without even addressing the sadness in Iraq or Afghanistan or other areas of the world where calamities are a daily occurrence.

August is burning gratitude into our skin and into our hearts. The sting of mosquitoes reminds us that we are vulnerable and yet largely unaffected by our surroundings. My garden is thick with weeds but the unintended flowers on the choking vines of the Morning Glory reveal a humble beauty in the midst of neglect.

It is cliche but honest to mention that this summer will come and go with the next one to follow regardless what our intentions, oversights, and actions might yield. We believe that the space that we fill has importance and consequences and that others will remember. Yet, our impact on this world is only a whisper that blows away in the next warm breeze.

I was reminded of this when a customer in my daughter's consignment shop mentioned that she had heard that a person is remembered for no longer than three generations. The woman in a heavy Southern accent said, "I just can't believe that folks won't remember me." Then as she left the shop, she shouted to us, "Now, don't you ever forget me; don't you forget ______."

Sadly, I've forgotten her name.