Oh, June! You are filled with memories that celebrate life and love. Through my childhood ... and for countless others, you launched fireflies into the summer dusk.
Long before I was born, you welcomed one of my three (lucky me!) beloved grandfathers to the world. In 1974, you invited me to perhaps a half dozen weddings and anniversary celebrations in three weekends. From those weddings, you introduced me to twins who, even when they looked nearly identical, were delightfully different and as independent as they were entwined when I met them through a sonogram. You brought me a great niece twenty years or so after those June weddings and sent her Pap-Pap (another of those weddings) to heaven last year. A few years later, in another decade, you slipped a child into my good friend's life on the day my Uncle Leo left it. Just this past week, you reconnected me to childhood friends, let me laugh at myself through the eyes of a child, and reminded me how large and small the span of the same few years can be between 16 and 33, then at 63 and 80.
Every June brings me the most daylight in the year, and within a week, lets me see daylight last a few moments less. The fireflies will continue to light the dusk, fewer and fewer for weeks to come. "If I could save time in a bottle" it might look the way lightning bugs did when I was a child. Those were sweet nights of wonder, laughter, and love, that taught us more than anything else, that we can't capture beauty and confine love. We may appreciate those magical, living moments most when, having been amazed by what we can't understand, we set them free to fly into a future we trust will bring us more light than darkness.
DonnaMarie Fekete
June 2016
Long before I was born, you welcomed one of my three (lucky me!) beloved grandfathers to the world. In 1974, you invited me to perhaps a half dozen weddings and anniversary celebrations in three weekends. From those weddings, you introduced me to twins who, even when they looked nearly identical, were delightfully different and as independent as they were entwined when I met them through a sonogram. You brought me a great niece twenty years or so after those June weddings and sent her Pap-Pap (another of those weddings) to heaven last year. A few years later, in another decade, you slipped a child into my good friend's life on the day my Uncle Leo left it. Just this past week, you reconnected me to childhood friends, let me laugh at myself through the eyes of a child, and reminded me how large and small the span of the same few years can be between 16 and 33, then at 63 and 80.
Every June brings me the most daylight in the year, and within a week, lets me see daylight last a few moments less. The fireflies will continue to light the dusk, fewer and fewer for weeks to come. "If I could save time in a bottle" it might look the way lightning bugs did when I was a child. Those were sweet nights of wonder, laughter, and love, that taught us more than anything else, that we can't capture beauty and confine love. We may appreciate those magical, living moments most when, having been amazed by what we can't understand, we set them free to fly into a future we trust will bring us more light than darkness.
DonnaMarie Fekete
June 2016