A Summer Rash

Most people believe that summer begins in March or April. But my body begs to disagree. The reappearance of my prickly heat is the harbinger of  hotter days and warmer nights.

Like Christmas, summer has not been my favorite time of the year. For one, school is out so I didn’t have friends to hang out with. I don’t have neighborhood buddies back then (but come to think of it, even now. He he he). Most of the summer days, I played with my nephews and nieces and we ended up fighting.
It didn’t help that I don’t have a job during summer. Plus, this stubborn rashes just keep on visiting me.

However, in a tete`-a-tete´ with one of my students, I realized that the stigma of a particular period in life can be removed by associating them with happy memories.

In my case, I have to affirm that not all my summers were dreary and spent on a tight budget or isolation. At some point, I created precious memories that could bring a smile to my face.

With this thought, heartwarming memories started to string out of my mind just like how Dumbledore magicked his memories into the pensieve or in a vial.

An unexpected back-packing vacation, helping Jotay practice his photography, meeting other artists, shopping for swimwear with Ising and posing in that particular swimwear, sending a birthday card to my crush while meeting a new crush, crossing the sea in a small boat, and going camping under the rain are just a few.

Why did I forget these memories?

Most of the time, I concerned myself with the sad events that took place afterwards. But that is not the point of the exercise. I should look back to these memories oftentimes and savor the light feeling these bring me. Once this happens, I can now bathe myself in the warmth of the summer.

Among these memories, which stood out?

Well, not the birthday card I sent to a boy, signed as Secret Admirer but the memory of lying on the sand, listening to the surf as the water kissed the beach, and looking at the star-laden velvety black sky. It was pure itch-free bliss.