07/20/24

07/20/24

8:35 am

    I got out of bed and headed to the living room. The bright sun reflected off the glass sliding doors, hiding the group of N, G and L who were sitting on the porch trying to solve a Wordle. I walked out to observe and pitched in a suggestion: SHAFT. I cleared the game. B walked up the stairs having just come from the lake and remarked on the temperature. H was pacing around the kitchen trying to memorize his lines from the poem for the memorial later today. 

    We walked down to the dock and he continued. “The trail was bad and I felt half mad”. I dove in. The water was warmer than when we were here just two weeks ago. As I practiced my front stroke, my mind almost doesn’t register the movement. The water and I were the same temperature—I am one with the water. When I got out, I shivered.

9:30 am

    The younglings leave to go to the Yacht club to participate in a regatta. A group of us plan to meet on the dock at 9:45 to take the boat and spectate. 

    Everyone is here except P and K, who went up The Rock a bit ago but wanted to join.

10:00am

P and K finally showed. The twelve of us jetted off.

    In all the times I had been to the lake I hadn’t observed the races till now. It was a sight; a fleet of sailboats drifting about in the middle of the lake. In our family, K and M, racing Optis, are lined up to start. H’s sister B and her boyfriend L were racing an FJ; having already started the race by the time we ride by, they were well ahead of the only other FJ racer. The Stars were the coolest; as we passed by them the sailors looked very relaxed, standing around on deck chatting. They seemed to be doing nothing in relation to steering and wouldn’t have looked out of place with a cigarette and coffee in hand. B and L were the same in that regard; when we caught them at the end of their race they were just laying in the boat, L steering leisurely with his feet dangling in the water. K came in first in his Opti race–a kid with natural talent and little competition outside of his sister.

    Back at the house I laid on the couch out on the porch and read Asleep by Banana Yoshimoto. The sound of cicadas mingled with the wind rustling in the leaves. No other sounds. 

    H and I went to the Windchill for lunch. We never miss the opportunity to have soft serve that’s not Mr. Softee. They had mint for the first time ever. All was right. On the drive home we listened to Mojave 3 in silence. I could've fell asleep.

    Back on the property, I wandered around the main house. P offered to make me coffee, so I took a stroll until it was ready. H was sitting on the lawn practicing her part of the poem while her eldest child swung from a circular rope swing hanging from the largest tree on the lot. Little J ran up to me and asked to be picked up. We walked together like that for a bit. Coffee was ready. I sat with it on the grass. Soft and plush and so green. Continuing my walk, I saw G through the screen door, practicing his lines in the living room. I sat on the lawn facing the water. H’s father was keeping busy with preparations around the house. 

    I felt the breeze, the weather couldn’t be more perfect. The cousins are in the kitchen now, practicing their parts altogether.

    There was a somberness in the air, it was flowing around like the cool breeze. The usual electricity brought on by being at the lake in the summertime had been dulled to a gentle spark. Even the kids, who could usually be heard screaming at all times of the day, had toned it down, almost courteously, to occasional outbursts. The cicadas were loud.

    The unbearable loneliness that accompanies the loss of both parents is something I think about often and dread with all my being. When I look at my mother, I wonder if it affects her everyday. Watching H’s dad walk alone along the property as the crowd of relatives and family friends start to gather, I felt tears welling up. Not having attended the funerals of any of my grandparents weighs heavily on me. Why wasn’t I there for my family?

    As the memorial began, tears streamed down my face. I’m notorious for crying during speeches. This was the second funeral I had ever been to. I asked H for his sunglasses. Afterwards, I went to the bathroom and saw a wet spot had formed on my Issey Miyake Pleats Please top. H asked what I spilled on myself.

    After mingling for a bit, carrying around a watered-down Coke on ice, I asked L if I could read the book that the family had transcribed of their patriarch’s diary. Reading a posthumously published diary feels as much of an invasion of privacy as it would be had they been alive and you snuck it out of a dresser drawer, but I love reading diaries. From all the diaries of famous authors or musicians I’ve read, you gain insight into a person you never knew in a way that doesn’t seem possible from novels or music or everyday conversation. 

I laid on the grassy slope facing the water and read. I felt closer to the family.

H called me down to the dock and we sat alone for a while.

Around 9 pm we finally had dinner, the sky almost completely dark. I wasn't very hungry.

07/21/22

    Woke up around 8:30 am. It was cold. I put a sweater on and walked out to the living room where J and H were entertaining two of the youngest children. B cracked L’s back and I asked L to crack mine as well. Can never get the lower part to crack.

    H started making breakfast. When I brought my coffee up to drink the scent shot me with a strong sense of nostalgia. The light misting of rain wafting through the windows made me eager for fall. Over the speaker I played New Order, Galaxy 500, The Gun Club, and Morrissey, but only their most lighthearted songs. L’s parents came in and sat around the counter and we all bantered at each other. I sat at the dining table typing on my computer.

    I played In My Life by The Beatles and L’s mom commented on how it’s her favorite song. She wants it played when she dies and for everyone to sing along. H and I sang along. 

There are places I’ll remember / All my life, though some have changed.

    A final dip in the lake before we head off to the train. In the water I felt so warm. There was no wind and no waves, calm water that only rippled to my movements.

Hot shower.

Goodbyes and see-you-laters.


Playlist

Wisdom - The Brian Jonestown Massacre

Age of Consent - New Order

The Breaking Hands - The Gun Club

Suedehead - Morrissey

Blue Sunday - The Doors

Let’s Go Away For A While - The Beach Boys

That’s All for Everyone - Fleetwood Mac

In My Life - The Beatles

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