Autumn
Yellow the bracken
Golden the sheaves
Rosy the apples,
Crimson the leaves:
Mist on the hillside,
Clouds grey and white.
Autumn, good morning!
Summer, good night!
--Florence Hoatson
Children playing outside with neighbor kids on a beautiful fall day. October 1st and they are still in shorts and t-shirts. A lemon garlic chicken is roasting in the oven. Doors are open to the late afternoon sun. The dining room table is covered with stacks of photographs, organized by year. Stacks of memorabilia, wedding announcements, memorial service programs, movie and concert ticket stubs, postcards from friends and family from Hong Kong, Austria, Ireland and Massachusetts. Pictures of Todd and me, in shorts with tan, fit arms and legs and pants in much smaller sizes. :)
My oldest friend's mom passed away yesterday, September 30th, after long years of suffering with Alzheimer's. Perhaps this heightens my awareness of what is laid out before me. I hold each photo and program and postcard tenderly as I place it in the file box. I've organized things by year, by event, by vacation, as though I could ever untangle their colorful threads that hold my life together now.
Waves of gratitude to all my loved ones make me sit down with the box of tissue. Sweet sentiments on anniversary cards from Todd, birthday cards with such wonderful words a daughter could ever hope to hear from parents. There are letters from grandparents living in nursing facilities, or retirement centers. A stack of sympathy cards for Todd when his mother passed away in 1998. Christmas letters from cousins, aunts and uncles, birth announcements from college friends, graduation photos of nephews and nieces, these photos of backpacking and igloo building. It is all so amazing and wonderful and it is my life.
