Wednesday, August 4, 2010

If Ever I Should Leave You...It Would Definitely Be In August

I have had this song on my brain for the past few days. On my lips when I'm in the shower. You know the kind of song I'm talking about. First, a line comes into your head, then, you find yourself belting it out when nobody's looking. Oh, and in the car there's just no limit to the Broadway soundtracks I can howl along with.

I've been thinking about Mom's leaving Waco. We moved there when I was 12. It is my home. My hometown. My Thanksgivings. My Christmases. My Birthdays. My Baylor. So, not having Mom there will be the end of an era.

This morning I realized something important as I was singing in the shower, "If ever I would leave yooooooooooou, it couldn't be in Autumn. How I'd leave in Autumn, I never would knooooooooooow! I've seen you spah-cul, when fall nips the airrrrrrrrrr..." I can do a pretty much spot on impersonation of Franco Nero. Just so's you know. It would truly be hard to leave Waco in the Autumn. The leaves are so beautiful. I could sit in Cameron Park watching the leaves fall for hours without so much as moving a muscle. I can hear the Baylor Band at the Homecoming Parade. Bomp...ba-da-lada...Bomp...bad-da-lada! Nope. Couldn't be in Autumn.

Winter. Mom's towering magnolia, that wasn't as high as the gutters on the roof when we moved into the house, has provided many a bough of greenery in Christmas arrangements. Her house always glows with her Christmas baubles of soft pinks, cool blues, and pale greens. The lamp post always stands at attention so that people can admire the shimmering gold bow with a touch of deep green pine. Nope. "I couldn't leave you running merrily through the snow or on a wintry evening when you catch the fire's gloooooooooow."

Spring. My birthday reminds me of the bright promise of Mom's homemade lasagne. Her precious tulip bulbs push up mightily through the mulch towards the sun. Her azaleas burst out into a fuscia fire in the backyard. Memories of Sing Practice at Baylor. Pledge Lackey capturing my heart. Nope. "How could it be in Springtime?! knowing how in Springtime I'm bewitched by you sooooooooooooo! Oh, no! Not in Springtime!

Summer, on a totally different hand, is the perfect time to say adios to 41 years of my lifetime. The sweltering heat. The humidity that makes my readers fog up the minute I step on the porch. The traffic on Valley Mills drive that stalls making my air conditioner strain to keep up with my need for a frigid breeze. Yes, Mom's yard is at it's peak of blooming with turk's cap, Knockout roses, impatiens, and daisies. Sultry summer days leave me so lethargic that the effort of wandering around in the yard is just too much to bear. The cool evenings of Lubbock whisper my name. "Come! You can sit out under the oak trees in the front yard and feel your hair lift gently in the breeze while sipping on a tall glass of sweet tea."

If ever I should leave Wacooooooooooo, it would totally be in August. Yes, only during August I'm eager to goooooooooo. No never in Springtime. Never Winter or fall. But, oh yes, in summer it's not hard at alllllllllllll.

2 comments:

Carolyn Lackey said...

This post is just chocked with typos. It's all I can do to keep myself from editing it for about an hour. However, "Pledge Lackey" is home from the bank and is inquiring about dinner. I assure you. There in no homemade lasagna in the oven.

Lulu said...

That's it!!!! I'm moving to Lubbock with Helen.
I am so tired of being HOT! Seems like every year it gets hotter.Enjoy your cool evening breezes.