BANANAS

     August, ugh, not my favorite month. If I were God’s West Coast representative, I would not have scheduled it, and gone directly from the heat blasts of July—which we would endure with only once or twice daily complaints about global warming and what the weather was doing to our hair, and therefore get at least a partial credit—to nice old September, when the leaves begin to change in glorious, deathy transformation.

     But August, ugh. No one is in place who can help me. Most of New York publishing has ground to a standstill. What if I suddenly have a great idea for a book, which I actually do—The Grown Child: An Owner’s Manual, with lots of tips and hacks to avoid them getting all cranky when you accidentally  share your always excellent advice.

     All the young people are still strutting around in teeny clothes that would hang on my cat, and of course one can’t help but notice one’s own condition. My husband said thoughtfully the other day, “The problem with older bodies is that everything hurts, and they don’t look very good.” In August, the young do their vigorous show-offy things, and, one imagines, think contemptuous thoughts about us, ie me—“Hey, Granny Clampett, 3/4 sleeves in 90 degree weather?”

      And August is now when kids go back to school. This is just so wrong. Everyone knows that school starts the Tuesday after Labor Day, It says so in the bible. Somewhere, possibly in Ecclesiastes, right after “To everything there is a season, turn turn turn.” (3:1-8.)

     You’d think the good news would be that being in school would decrease the exhibitionism, and maybe it does, but just barely—the girls at my grandson’s high school could be auditioning for Victoria’s Secrets ads, if they were not already too old at 16 and 17.

      That is all the superficial stuff. Beneath, one onion skin layer down, is the truth that life is too sad by half. Some of the people I have loved for decades are going through the most tragic times of loss, and all we can do is show up, sit with them, try to keep our mouths shut unless they ask is something, and maybe bring them some food. (But not casseroles, unless you are Presbyterian.) Is life even more heartbreaking these last few months this than usual? It has been, in my little galaxy, for a few of the people I love most.

     I constantly think of filing a brief with the Complaints Department—How on earth could this terrible loss or diagnosis happen to a person of such beauty and decency, when there are so many great candidates for punishment?

     I am not going to name names, not even the obvious one, in his infinite stupidity and evil. Nope, nope, nope, lips are sealed. Instead, I am going to mention an action we might all think about taking in the doldrums of August, in preparation for the midterms..

     Send off whatever you can afford, even ten dollars, to groups who are helping to safeguard the coming elections. Here are the three that the New York Times suggests, all of them nonpartisan:

     

• The Election Official Legal Defense Network pairs election officials with pro bono attorneys who can advise them on how to respond to threats and lawsuits, which have increased in recent years.

• The Campaign Legal Center, founded in 2002 by a Republican lawyer who served as chairman of the Federal Election Commission, works to ensure that election rules remain fair.

• The Carter Center, founded in 1982 by Jimmy Carter.

The paradoxical solution to feeling pinched is to give a little more. This is just about my deepest belief, that we think we are starving for what we’re not getting, but we’re actually starving for what we’re not giving. Skip two Starbucks coffees, and give the money to the guy at the intersection, even if you have tiny opinions on his hygiene or gumption. He is your brother. Every single religious tradition says so—well, except for fundamentalist Christianity.

     I have to repeat something I saw once on a sticker in a newsroom, alongside a photo of Koko the gorilla: “Stay calm, and share your bananas.” In India, you routinely see starving people sitting on the road, splitting bananas in half and giving them to the impoverished person sitting next to them. In the current terrors of America, it’s tempting to hoard our bananas, but then they go bad. Give some away. Giving will fill you and open your heart. Right after the Labor Day verses in Ecclesiastes, it says, “Cast thy bread upon the water, for though shalt find it after many days.” Be generous. Trust the future.

     When we are afraid, casting and trust and acts of goodness are radical acts. Courage is fear that has said its prayers. Courage is just doing it all any way. Snacks and coffee help. We got this.