Recalling Summer Days

Story by Ted Siegler

“Enjoying the boats?” he asked.

“Yes. We used to come to the inn here every summer. Decades ago.”

“Me, too. Father packed us into the Plymouth, and we drove for what seemed like hours. I loved it.”

“Those were carefree times.”

“Seems like you remember how special it was. For me, one summer I fell in love, out sailing like that. We were fifteen or sixteen. Shorts, long tan legs, sun-bleached hair – she was so graceful the way she moved around the boat. Her name was Sylvia. We sailed every day. Never ran out of things to talk about.”

“Summer love. It’s especially sweet. Don’t you wish you could have captured it in a bottle and taken it home with you? But then we all move on. Don’t we?”

“Well, I’ve often wondered about her. But as you say, I did move on. My life has been happy, fulfilling. Married more than fifty years to a lovely woman. She passed away a year ago. We raised two fine children. They brought me up here with their families... I guess to get me past the loss. I’m glad the inn hasn’t changed much.”

“It seems the young people are still enjoying their time on the water. It makes me feel young again, just to watch them. But I need to get back inside. I plan to be here another few days. I do hope we run into each other again.”

“I’d like that. My name’s John. And yours?”

“Sylvia.”