Ah, the summer we always claim we have.
Although marred by floods and damaging storms (sadly and most certainly ruined for those still cleaning up and figuring out what to do next), summer, nevertheless, is truly summer this year. Absolutely, positively, bona fide: the real thing. Why, our garden may even produce a ripe tomato in July. A few years ago, kids were back in school before we saw a red tomato.
No question we're happier people when ambient temperatures and blue skies meet our expectations. True summer also comes with bonuses beyond a wealth of warmth and sunshine. For kids, it's plain old sun-drenched fun; for us adults, it's not only enjoying the nice weather but also, occasionally - ever so briefly - reconnecting with our younger selves.
Be clear, the reconnection I'm talking about doesn't arise from reminiscence or wistful wishing for days gone by. Instead, it's visceral and momentary, a fleeting rush of feeling that takes us back to who we were a long time ago.
When we least expect it, a song comes on the radio or a sultry night fragrance wafts across our path and suddenly, we feel as if we're 16 and loving that song or fragrance for the first time. Unlike simply remembering what it felt like, however, we actually experience the feeling all over again.
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Sweet and short-lived, such sensory moments don't happen regularly; indeed, it's the rarity that makes them wonderful.
Still, rare as they are, they seem most likely to touch us in summertime. Summer is the freest time of the year, a time to be outdoors and physically involved with the world around us. Even for kids today whose lives seem overly scheduled, long summer days offer escape from confinement and more time to play.
Whatever combination of factors makes summer experiences growing up more distinctively memorable - including good weather and untroubled, high-spirited fun, of course - the upshot is indelible imagery that follows us through life. Images implant themselves and then go dormant, forgotten until years later when a sight or smell or sound triggers them, catapulting us back to a moment in time
That's not to say our young selves were always happy or that adults never have fun. However, the energetic exuberance of youth is its own phenomena, while adult fun occurs in the context of responsibilities and, often, in spite of unpleasant circumstances.
I frequently quote a good friend who says, "Life is good; it's not fair." The thing about adulthood is that life's unfairness touches just about everybody. We don't intend to become disconnected from the exuberance that bubbled around our friends and us when we were young, but it happens. The difficulty could be divorce, job loss, or bankruptcy. A wonderful child's path to adulthood might detour into addiction or depression or an unexpected tragedy strike or the ravages of chronic disease; a parent or spouse might slide into dementia. The list of life's challenges goes on and on. And yet, no matter how life changes for us or how hard it gets, the core of who we are is there, ready to surprise us with a happy, visceral blast from the past.
Kids and grandkids joined us at the lake for the Fourth of July - some of them for the rest of the week, too. After they left, I was telling my brother about the oldest of the three grandchildren who heads to second grade in the fall. Between last year and this, she's turned into something of a fish, swimming underwater, picking up rocks and shells, and resurfacing with her treasurers, jubilant over what she's found.
My brother's face turned pink, and he was looking off into space when he replied, "Man ... what a great feeling."
Forget my granddaughter; in that moment, I'm pretty sure he was the 7-year-old back at our grandparents' lake place diving for rocks. In fact, I'm doubly sure because the next day with nobody on the lake and terrific water for skiing, for a moment I was 15, cutting the wake behind the old red-and-white Silver Line.
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Ahlin writes a Sunday column for The Forum.
