my most loved month. 

it feels like summer’s main feature. the smooth part of the story after the slow beginning and before the inciting incident. the good and lovely middle. 

for years it was the part of the summer that meant a lot of pool days and sunburned movie nights and banana popsicles and twizzlers and uncle randy’s home made ice cream and sandlot nights and ray charles and oldie’s featuring the beach boys and birthday celebrations.

there was something about a hot saturday morning with laundry hanging in the sun and breakfast in the shade…

a few years ago my summer respite became the annual instigator of change. 

the july of the in between…living in a small space waiting to find the first home (hopefully a bungalow in the city )where i hated to admit that my kids would not have permanent bedrooms or leftovers in the frig or dance parties, but where we would gather as a growing family and celebrate holidays and birthdays and sandlot nights.

the july i unexpectedly left a career. 

there was the july when i had to purge my house (the bungalow where my kids didn’t have permanent bedrooms or leftovers in the frig or dance parties) where our family grew and i held the sweetest little baby boy on the porch swing and we celebrated christmas and spent those summer days wading through memories stacked in boxes before i had to walk away from what i thought was the future i had hoped for.

the july i watched summer through an upstairs window.

the july’s of sitting in cars in parking lots or lingering in coffee shops. 

the pandemic july when i walked into a loft and laid down on a concrete floor, staring at a cement ceiling…astounded at the thought of once again having a home. a home with a door and keys on a key ring and floor to ceiling windows and an address on a street in the city.

then came the july of expectations.

and a july of settling in…allowing myself the luxury of hanging pictures.

a july of drinking iced tea on the patio across the street, ice cream dates with the ones who call me “yai-yia” a beautiful brand new baby boy and a lot of pondering about the statue of limitations when it comes to healing and starting over when others are accessing retirement funds and flying about and such.

a july of heartache and unknowns and shifts and staying in bed a little longer.

present day july…the one right in front of me. the one that started with a delicious rainy day. the one where i’m currently addicted to the lemon cream wafers from whole foods thanks to residing in the middle of what feels like the summer of a forever, frenzied millieu. the one where i might wear a dress to a wedding that requires self tanner and breaking my rule to never, ever bare my legs in public.

this july where i continue my attempt to reconcile the disruptions with the never ending urgency that there is something more…that something is emerging.

here’s what i know- 

if you have some meandering years and say…a few inciting incidents, maybe you wake up to a day that takes you back and you still mourn the aftermath…it’s ok. 

it’s ok to harbor what takes your breath away. 

maybe you’ve had some disappearing years. 

maybe july or november or one single day appears with profound heartache and melancholy memories…

it’s ok if you have to linger. 

no one heals for you. 

if you’re lucky your people will be next to you but no one heals for you. 

no one has the pain or lessons gleaned or the pool of tears or the unquenchable gratitude that you have for the morning shadows or the shared moments or the chippy yellow platter that survived your wandering. 

feel what you must. 

do away with what you must. 

hold on to the residual ashes if you must - as a reminder of the you who did what you thought you couldn’t. 

you’re next you is emerging and wants you to know that you must live from your spirit and laugh from your soul. 

the past happened so your present self could emerge. honor your story.

(poems on style by nikki van ekeren)

here’s to july…summer 2024. to the lemon wafer obsession, the courage to bare legs and the honor of owning our healing.

here’s to emerging.

love ru.