Something that happened before

Carefree

A Memorial Day get-together at our place: Pulled in a handful of close friends, rehashed traditions that began 20 years ago, dared to pull up long ago photos, refreshed our beverages, told tales out of school (way way out of school), and brought a little of that spontaneous magic back to life for a moment.

We thought a lot of people would come;
Hmm perhaps no one would show;
Ok, a few, should be low-key;
No, decidedly not low-key.

Hugs and beer and Cool Ranch Doritos.

The living room was full of defiant negotiations over which video game to play, so the adults went outside. Ugh, our dogs don’t get along, really? It wasn’t a pool party until it was. The burgers and tri-tip kept rolling out but the fruit never appeared. Our AV Cart™ showed music videos from the 1980s, some singable, some beautiful, some uncomfortably dated. The kids were coerced away from the screen and got some swimming in. A dog knocked a margarita into the pool. Time for another drink.

My teen got to play some serious Mario Kart against an adult. Want some mochi ice cream from the back of the fridge? In a shocking twist, the hot tub was cold, but the backyard firepit grabbed the chance to shine.

The late hour softens edges on the adults but sharpens children into daggers. Sugar Happy Hour is long gone while Beer O’Clock rolled steadily into Half-Past Liquor Cabinet. Sorry kids, moms and dads are waiting until it’s ok to drive.

Once the fire is out and the wet swimsuits are packed it’s those hasty goodbyes and then one-more-things and then farewellagains, making sure the dog doesn’t run out in front and the kids are promised more video games with friends another time.

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You might already know that while this felt like a beginning, it was an ending. Memorial Day was our first great swim party of 2024. It was also the last.

I wrote most of the above soon after the event, but I polished it off today, in mid-September. That moment in May was fun at the time, but now it’s a precious gem. I feel full gratitude towards the me of early June who wrote it down. Where’s my time travel scope so I can peek in on her?

I didn’t use the word “carefree” in the retelling because the word wasn’t relevant then. The carefree tone held here has prematurely aged as the carefree nature of our lives evaporated.

Our lives are now full of care. As our teen son Theo navigates 9 months of chemotherapy, care is the center of every moment.

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