Summer’s Almost Over

We talk about someone who is aging as someone who is no longer a spring chicken. His youth and the spring in his step have slipped away. For me, summertime has escaped as well. Springtime is the time of growth, maturing into adulthood. Summertime is the part of my life that has been the productive portion. My time in the Navy, my time earning my degree at Penn State, my short work experience at Monsour Hospital in Jeannette, Pennsylvania, and my career at H. C. Frick Hospital in Mt. Pleasant, Pennsylvania were all a part of my summertime.

The summer of my life wasn’t always a picnic, or the enjoyment of an amusement park, but there were many times that it was amusing and sometimes the ride was long and tiring. The sunny memories of my life were found in my marriage and raising my family. There were times of tremendous storms of sorrow. The death of family members was a major contributor for the gathering of thick clouds of grief. The days of summer have passed as did the depth of those sorrows. The days were lightened by my children’s weddings and the birth of grandchildren. Just as the sun parts the clouds, the joys in my summer have tempered the cold feelings and warmed my heart again.

Retired now, I am enjoying a vacation before the leaves change hues and I evolve into the autumn part of my life. I write, volunteer, and mow my neighbor’s yard in an attempt to stave away that inevitable part of my future and still be a productive citizen. Aches and pains have slowed my body and have pushed me closer to the foreseeable autumn pages of my existence.

Our church just hired Christian, a young man and his newly wedded wife. The juxtaposition of meeting them on Wednesday and on Thursday talking with my older cousin Larry Stahl caused my mind to wander along these lines. Christian and his bride are just stepping into the first days of their summer, while Larry was stepping into the days of autumn.

Each day turns a page of the calendar forward. There is no guarantee that there will be another month when I flip the page. I may only get a small taste of autumn weather before the leaves of my life wither and fall from my tree. I have no guarantee that I will see the first snowflake of winter. Each day is a blessing. Each friend I meet is a Godsend. Each breath that I take is a gift from God. To my friends and my readers, each day is precious. Use them wisely.