August

August, when the atomic bomb was dropped a year before I was born.

I remember an August childhood vacation trip in Canada with my family

Staying at some motel near Montreal listening to the radio at night with my brother

In bed in the dark hearing the horrible stories of the survivors of Hiroshima

Not understanding the import of what I was hearing.

August, when cancer took my mother I was still a child.

I remember in August being allowed into the hospital room to see my mother

Ushered in with my brother and sister we are standing by her bed

Not told it is our good-bye visit but sensing what is happening

Soon ushered out again when my mother is crying softly as am I.

August, when we begin counting the remaining days of summer.

I remember the glorious August sunsets seen on vacation in Vermont

Staying in a grand house named Great Oaks on a dirt road

With a pond and brook across the road for a boy to explore

With a dairy farm down the road where I was welcome to wander around.

August, when sweet corn picked fresh from the field comes into season.

I remember shucking the back yard corn and picking tomatoes from the vine

And snapping green beans plucked from the garden to cook for dinner

Savoring good fresh food when there is plenty

Even as the days get shorter and the tree leaves lose their sheen.

August, when my birthday is a time of remembrance.

Waiting my turn after my older brother in June and my younger sister in July

My mother taking me and some friends to see a Red Sox game at Fenway

Not understanding then it is too proximate to her troubled marriage anniversary

We have very good seats behind first base and I can see the players are real people.

Dator Pond August

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Franklin Lakes Nature Preserve July

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Not now. Maybe next year.

The high temperature today was at least 94

Corresponding to the number of years Rosie has seen in her life.

The intense summer heat wave of late July penetrates indoors

Where the window fan breeze cools her somewhat as she sits.

We went to her Brooklyn apartment and sat with her talking

Exchanging news of people we know and things we have learned

And heard the story of why she has no air conditioner

As we ate key lime pie sipping lime seltzer in the heat.

There used to be one but it was too much trouble

Having someone lift it in and out of the window every year.

Now there’s one that sits on the floor but she doesn’t run it

Since emptying the water takes more strength than she has.

So Rosie tolerates the heat without complaint

Living the way people lived when we were born

And before that when Rosie was born

Before air conditioners made possible the migration South.

And we talked about what it was like in those days

Remembering sitting in the shade of a tree hoping for a thunderstorm

Ready to run out into the cool wet downpour when it came

Remembering when movies got air conditioned and then supermarkets.

Remembering when it was too hot to fall asleep

Waiting for the sun to go down and the fireflies to dance at dusk

Longing for the evening breeze to come into my bedroom

Listening for the rustling of the leaves in the trees outside.

Sometimes we would escape to the beach or swim in a cold lake.

Sometimes we would take a car ride just to catch the breeze

Hanging my head out the window to be swept by the wind.

I always remember those summer days when I was growing up.

I think for Rosie it’s not such a problem like it is for us

When she grew up used to contending with the heat

When she has lived as an adult so many years getting along

Something she learned to do that young people don’t do.

So Rosie can do without an air conditioner

But you understand that’s not the reason why not.

She doesn’t want to be a bother to anyone in any way

Though she would make us happy to let us help.

We have a spare unit we can bring with us

To set it up in the window when we next visit.

Rosie thought about our offer and decided

Not now.  Maybe next year.