September Swim


They laughed a little louder, they cried a little softer, they lived a little stronger, because they stood together...friends.

I never remember until September, that summer is actually going to end.  I go out early morning.  The sun is lower, barely making it above the pool house.  It flickers, with promise, and I sit down to open the cover.  It's cooler now, the September morning.  I put two towels around me as the cover spins slowly, revealing the blue, inch by inch.  Is it taking longer to open?  No.  Patience.  But patience is fleeting.  Or is it the time?  Summer, ever since I can remember was fast.  Off the school bus, into the water, back on the school bus.  Still that fast.  No bus waiting for me now.  I have more time.  Am I using it?  Did I enjoy the pool every day?  I did.  Didn't I?  I did.  Two three times a day.  Alone.  With the kids.  Lap by lap.  Lounge by lounge.  It was beautiful.  I am grateful.  I want more still.  I want to keep it alive.  Can I be grateful and ask for more?  I think I can.  I hope I can.  I am.  Asking for more.  I goggle and step inside.  First step feels warm.  The same temperature for the pool is always warmer with the cool September air.  Second step faster.  Then dive in.  I'm under.  I wrapped.  I'm gathered in.  The sun flickers above me.  My thoughts dance just as quickly.  I lose track of my laps and just swim.  September and I hold on.


I don't remember how many years we have been friends.  Seems like forever.  And always.  Coffee and Sundance catalogs.  Laughter and hopes, all shared in brown leather lounge chairs.  Finished and unfinished sentences, no meaning ever lost.  Until now.  It started slowly, just little things forgotten, addresses, phone numbers, dates.  It didn't really even register with me.  Until this visit.  She forgot her own address.  Forgot where she used to live.  Forgot how to email now.  Forgot how to call.  And my friend disappeared.  Did I enjoy her friendship every day?  The time we had?  I did.  Didn't I?  I email memories and pictures with no answers.  I email more. I am grateful to have had such a friend.  Can I be grateful and ask for more?  I do.  I send another email.  And hang on.  There's the snow, my friend.  It's OK.  Summer, in my heart, will never end.  

On Thu, Sep 3, 2020 at 2:46 PM Jodi Hills <hillsjodi@gmail.com> wrote:

write about deb


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