Life is a series of small comings and goings, and for everything that we take with us, there is something that we leave behind.
The concept of ‘the Summer of ‘42’ in my personal universe is something that’s difficult to explain. Yes, it’s a movie, pretty much your typical coming of age story, but that’s not what it is to me – not really. The Summer of 42 is a state of mind.
In every life, there is a summer of ’42; the summer that changes you, that touches your heart and leaves an imprint there that you can’t quite explain.
It’s something that you remember not in words, but in images, in lingering sensations. The stickiness of melting gelato on your fingertips, the smile in a close friend’s eyes, the dance of the sunshine off the surface of a glass of Italian red. Flashes of situations, frozen pieces of laughter that hang in the air forever, ringing and echoing across the landscapes of your life. The shine of museum lighting off the mellow finish of a soundless violin, the sightless gaze of a somehow living piece of marble. The lap of the canals against the gondolas and the scent of perfect spaghetti. The taste of sunshine, the stinging tang of salt against your skin. The burn of whiskey down your throat.
They take something from you those endless summers, though you can’t quite place what. You lose yourself in them and come out of them a different, stronger and yet somehow more dream-like person. You mourn their passing and cling to the pieces you remember. Too often you don’t realize you’re in the middle of one until it’s over.
I thought my summer of ’42 was in the past. I thought I’d had it years ago when I first boarded ships. I thought I could name it down to the very hour. Perhaps that’s still true. But as I’ve gotten older I’ve realized that these moments, these seasons, these precious, precious fragments, they’re what you make them.
I came into this contract not sure what to expect from it. I was exhausted from too long on the flagship, I was burned from too many demanding guests and pushing myself to a level that’s difficult to maintain. I came to recharge, I ended up rebuilding. Again. Somehow, the universe saw fit to give me a summer I will never forget, even though at the same time, I may never remember it quite right.
In every life, there is a summer of ’42…
And if you’re very very lucky, and you know how to look for them…and you know how to see the world with your eyes and your heart wide open…you get more than one.