I like to call it The Summer Of Tom. People attach different names or titles to it, and for most it happens more than once. The details really aren't important - though I do have some friendly memories and some well earned scars to go with them - but instead the fact that one never seems to appreciate the fleeting moments that drift past with the ease of the sun. It is only after it goes down that we appreciate the warmth and goodness we had. It is in the contrast of the deepest darkness and doom and gloom strewn carelessly about, the stars blotched out by a life so clouded and foggy in comparison, that we realize it was a good time to be alive, with good people, and if not for the memories, we would have missed it altogether.

I question whether or not I can live in the moment a realize that I am having the time of my life, here, now. I do remember telling myself that it probably wouldn't get better than it was, and it never does. Not unless it's already long past, buried in the past, far out of reach. I feel that many people experience this phenomenon, so I am not alone. I do feel that there is a way to live in the moment, the now, and I have done it before. I long for that peace again, but it has slipped beyond my reach for the time being. Getting to that place requires a strength and focus that many lack. I know I am in that group of individuals.

Tommy, and the chaotic summer that went with it, was a sheep in wool event. I never knew out of such turmoil, amidst such stress and worries for the future, I could five months of stupid fun. Hangovers, scars, barbeque's, rivers, the mountains, camping, avoiding buis, headlamps with beer strapped to our bicycles. As this stage in my life came to close, I was ready for the next, or what I thought to be the next. That stage never happened. I ask myself what else I could have done. I wonder, where on earth did I go wrong.

Life simply does not work that way-- it's not all about wrong and right decisions, but making the best with them, and using those memories to spur on one more step. Looking at this photo of a summer that I will always remember as The Summer Of Tom, I realize there could be many more Summer Ofs, and while they might not get better, the will be there. At least I can hope.