I anticipate and dread summer all at the same time. Ever since I was a teenager, I've felt this way.
I can remember sitting up around 2 am as a teenager, making a cup of Sleepy Time tea (chamomile) and reading a book until I felt tired enough to sleep. Usually that was around 3 am. And then I would sleep til 7 or 8 in the morning. My body just needed less sleep in the summer. Yet, if you asked me to go out and be social at that time of night, I'd probably decline.
I'm still that way. It's summer. I'm tired. I desperately want to sleep. But last night, as tired as I was, I couldn't sleep. And then when I did sleep, Starbuck woke up, hungry. Right on time--- just not my time. I can stay up til all hours of the night, reading a book, writing in my journal, writing stories, composing songs--- but don't ask me to go out dancing or anything else.
I think, sometimes, that summer reminds me of home (my childhood home, Georgia) more than any other season. I miss home desperately in the fall, when I want to be in my mountains, with the beauty that is all around. But summer-- I have so many memories of summers at home. And so I miss "home" in the summer almost as much as I miss it in the fall.
A montage of memories play through my mind. Running around in the woods with my brother and other friends. Learning how to tell what was poison ivy. Learning what pipsissawa (a plant) looked like. Being able to find my way back to Gma and Gpa's house by walking down the ridge and following the property line. Chasing fireflies and staring up at unmarred starry skies. Finding my own quiet spot under a mountain laurel bush, right by the stream that ran through the property. Building dams to try to make the small natural ponds even bigger. Weeding the garden with Gma in the morning. Washing windows in the living room. Later, as I was older--- swimming in the lake with my friends. Going to the Cliffs to swing high above the water. Spending the night with my best friend, getting into trouble as only we could on a summer night.
I miss my "home" terribly sometimes. I think it has been harder in the past few weeks, what with the advent of summer. And then my great gramma has been moved to the nursing home. And my Gma fell and fractured her vertebrae, and has to go to the nursing home for rehab. I feel helpless. I want to be down there, being a part of the family, helping to take care of things. But that's my Saviour complex, you know. I can't fix eveything.
So it's summer. I'm sleepless. I'm homesick. I long for a cup of chamomile tea, but alas, I've run out. I long for a starry sky unmarred by light pollution, but I have the lights of the city and the neighborhood shining in my window. I long to be setting the table at my grandma's house, chattering away about everything and nothing. Instead, I write in my blog about a little bit of everything and nothing. How inadequate it feels.
Isn't it nice to know you've made a difference somewhere, to someone? Thanks Heidi, for letting me know what's going on with you. And thanks for letting me know that I've made a difference. Somehow, knowing that my life here has roots and branches--- it alleviates the homesickness, the inadequacy that I feel at these sleepless times.