Summertime

"Summertime is always the best of what might be." 

— Charles Bowden

It's June.

By most accounts, it's a nice time of year. It's the beginning of summertime. School is out, pools are open, and life gets a little more easy and carefree. After such a stormy spring, I should be welcoming the warm weather and the chance to take Millie exploring outside.

The thing is, there is so much that reminds me of what happened in our marriage a year ago, and summer is the most vague, but most inescapable one. The goodness of remembering the heat when Millie was born also makes my stomach churn when I think about the rest of it. I have a horrible memory, but I can somehow recall every date of every argument and every time I thought it was the end. It's not the kind of anniversary I want to celebrate in the least.

I've likened it, for lack of better words, to a strange kind of post-traumatic stress that pulls me into flashbacks every time something triggers an old thought. It's maddening sometimes. If I listed all the various sights and sounds to you that draw me back into those thoughts, you'd laugh- silly things, innocent things, that have turned into a punch in the gut. I've thrown things away, thing that I liked, just to keep from being reminded. Unfortunately, you can't throw everything away that hurts.

I want to let it roll off my shoulders- all of it- and breathe in the smells of watermelon or sunscreen with a sense of excitement and joy. I want to forget that this date or that date was when something bad happened, and focus solely on making new memories.

I want to look at the world with Millie's eyes. Everything is waiting to be explored. Everything is beautiful. Everything is new.