August 20: All the Blood, Final Days of Summer, Middle-Aged

I stand.  All the blood in my body crashes to my feet and instantly heaves to my head, so I blind and blush, as a tree blasts into leaf spouting water hurled up from roots.  What happens to me?  I stand before the sycamore dazed; I gaze at its giant trunk.

It's a familiar phenomenon.  Dillard stands too quickly after being seated for a while.  Her body isn't ready for it, and her head swims and vision swims out of focus until her blood pressure catches up with the rest of her.  It's like teleporting to the top of Pike's Peak from the shores of the Dead Sea.  It takes a few moments to reach equilibrium.

I won't have much time to reach equilibrium today.  We will be rushing from about ten o'clock in the morning to evening.  There's a wedding.  There's a reception.  And there's playing the organ for evening Mass.  My blood pressure won't be catching up with my body until about 7 p.m.

It's the final days of summer.  Lots of stuff going on.  Weddings.  Signing up for dance lessons.  Open houses at school.  College classes kicking off.  For me, it's a matter of changing modes.  I'm still in summer mode.  By Monday, I have to be in autumn mode.  It's a difficult transition.

Autumn and winter used to be my favorite seasons when I was younger.  I loved the colors and holidays, going from pumpkins to turkeys to Santa.  When I saw snowflakes for the first time in the fall, my spirits would lift for some reason.  Perhaps it was snow days.  Thanksgiving and Christmas vacations.

I have become a typical middle-aged person.  Summer is now my favorite season.  No snow to shovel.  A break from the grind of school functions--concerts and pep band and parent-teacher conferences.  No heating bills to pay.  Beach and pool days.  Long weekends.

Saint Marty doesn't know when he became so old.

Middle-aged people think this is hilarious!