When I recently penned my thoughts about the month of May, I sort of went off on a tangent and wrote some nonsense about the word may instead of the actual month. Surely I’m not going to get off topic and waste precious space, or anyone’s time, by once again talking about irrelevant stuff when writing about the month of June. I am not. I am not going to mention that June Cleaver from Leave it to Beaver is probably still my all-time favorite TV mom. And I am not going to say a word about actress June Lockhart from the ’60s Lost in Space series. I most definitely am not going to bring up June bugs – or how they are misnamed since the pesky beetles are usually more prevalent in May. No, I won’t be saying anything like that.
I am only going to write about what June means to me. In a word…love! My first thought is that my lovely wife and I started dating in June, and four years later we were married in June. Aah, there’s nothing like a June bride. It’s what every girl dreams of. Except the missus has made it known she would tie the knot in the fall if she had it to do all over again. (I sure hope she’d pick the same guy.) Our wedding was simple, but nice. We had a pastor, maid of honor, best man, guests, candelabras, cake, and a carriage ride. Dancing was not allowed at our church – thank goodness! Although we learned from Ren in the movie Footloose that there is “a time to dance” (Ecclesiastes 3:4) no one needs to see me dance. My wife and I are proof you can have a successful marriage even if you spend only a few hundred dollars on a wedding.
As a child, the month of June meant freedom. Free from weekday structured confinement in a brick laden prison. Every June I was given my release. Alice Cooper has captured the sentiments of most school students for generations with his timeless lyrics, “No more pencils, no more books. No more teachers, dirty looks…School’s out for summer.” Summertime is what I lived for when I was a boy. Not that my family took any vacations, or that I ever went to any summer camps, but it was purely about being released from that prison. My June days were filled with playing baseball, both Little League and sandlot style, and recklessly riding my bicycle until the sun went down. Inevitably, the length of daylight would decrease and my anxiety would increase as summer came to a close and it was once again time for lock-up.
Mirroring my intentions not to make a big deal out of Mother’s Day in May, the same can be said about Father’s Day in June. Hopefully our fathers are thought of all year long – not just when the calendar tells us to. (I don’t need no stinkin’ calendar telling me what to do.) That being said, I am thankful for my father, and I am blessed to be a father. What I have learned as a father is that you never stop being a parent. I am just as concerned, protective, and as proud of my adult son as I was when he was my little boy. So, this is what June means to me. What does June mean to you?
lifewithtruthandcommonsense 
June 5th, 2024 at 10:41 AM
We have a lot of June Birthdays in our family and of course 1 Anniversary as mentioned in your blog. So it’s hard not to think of that first and foremost. Then another pie to Celebrate our Father on Father’s Day. June also means the weather is starting to warm up and we are able to spend more time outdoors doing yard work, laying out(I know, I know, I shouldn’t) walking, going to Farmer’s markets, just to name a few. I love garden tomatoes and so those are a definite highlight of June!!
Those are a few things that I think about when it comes to June.