Those Were The Days, My Friends ... Farewell To a Bitter-Sweet Summer

Here come the shorter days, the earlier sunsets, the evening cool breezes and the season of Virgo until the last official day of summer. There is also the return to work and school for many starting tomorrow. As this is also the time where I turn another year older, I am normally reflective this time of year. But, I am more reflective and, even a melancholy, this time around.

This past spring and summer, relentlessly cool and rainy at first and then, very warm and dry, seemed to be seasons of disillusionment, loss and grief punctuated by brief moments of brightness and pleasure that came with an anxious aftertaste: how long would the good times last? At my workplace, people have left, been let go, former co-workers have died and others stricken with life-threatening illness. An atmosphere that began, at the beginning of this year as I finally transitioned on the job, as bright and optimistic, became by the end of spring became much dimmer with most of us carrying a horrible, sinking feeling inside ourselves: we (I know I did) felt shipwrecked.

Outside work, life included sudden loss such as when my friend and electrologist passed away suddenly on the Friday before Canada Day. It also included disillusionment; Pride weekend had its high points, but also its busts and resurfacing of years of animosity between the local trans* community and the Pride Society. DJing a low-to-no turnout dance event was enough to get me contemplate leaving DJing behind. Even behind the mic on my radio program, I was running out of steam and envisioning having a younger, soul music fan take over in my place.

Friends of mine have had fallings out with each other, broken up or divorced. I chose to maintain my friendships with all of them. I also have stayed friends with the man who was my brief summer romance and continue to miss him terribly.

Through all of this, at least one bright spot, my 24/7 life, transition, has gone very well. I do at the moment, however, have some unrelated health concerns to deal with; my fingers are crossed for a good result (more on this in another post).

I have had other mixed late-summer, pre-birthday seasons, back in 1994 when my mother passed away and in 2009 when, at the end of my pre-transition rope clawed my way back to wanting to live. This year, with all that has happened, and as the world darkens (Syria, Fukishima), I definitely want to live, in fact, like never before. Perhaps that is what I am being shown, at this point in my life, how much stronger I have become as I have come into my own. Age forty-two might not have been the answer to life, the universe and everything, but instead a revelation. I made it.