The summer of 2010 is done.
I will not forget this one. The battlefields are emptying out, and the humanitarians are moving in to sort bones and carry off the wounded. My arm is well on the mend, and I’m picking up my life and stacking my blocks back together. It occurred to me this morning, for instance, that I could go play golf this afternoon, and there is no earthly reason not to other than the Stockholm Syndrome that connects me to this house, my cell of 4 months.
Other friends have taken beatings, and faced up to some scary adversaries as well, yet all remain to fight another day. If you think this is melodramatic, I am here to tell you, there was nothing mellow about it. Summer 2010 will leave its scars.
Here’s to the survivors, may fall revive us all.