(This was among some of the last pictures I took before hearing my brother passed away)
But I caught myself telling my husband yesterday, "summer can't end. I don't want fall to come. I don't like fall anymore." He simply said sadly, "I know, honey."
My love of fall ended on the day my brother passed away on a crisp November day. The brother I spent lazy fall days with raking leaves and making "leaf houses " and mazes. The brother I carved pumpkins with, and trick or treated with as a child. The brother who left for college on one September day and broke my heart, leaving me at home alone. The fall that once held so many strong childhood memories now leaves a bitter reminder of a season I won't soon forget. While my brother was 50 at the time of his death, I had to come to the realization that I was mourning the young brother I knew at home, because that is who I knew the best. That is who brought me pretzels and root beer, hung up on boys who called me too late at night, and told me I looked pretty one day in the 8th grade. Oh, and he cried as he danced with me at my wedding. Grief is so unpredictable. I mourn him in stages-who he was at different times, and the memories that we shared as siblings. I sort of covet those now. Anyway....I haven't really thought about all that for awhile...until I attended Steve's grandma's funeral on Saturday.
Maybe not so strangely, I have replaced my love of fall for a new passion for summer. While the turmoil of illness surrounds two of our loved ones, we mourn a recent death, and deal with other life challenges, summer has connected me even closer with my daughters, my sweethearts. Because they are home with me all day, we laugh more, spend more time outside, and help each other through the hard things. I guess you could say that as I enter the "autumn" phase of my life, I am appreciating more and more that my daughters are becoming my friends as well. Well, the 18 year old one a bit more, I suppose. Still some mothering to do, of course.
I appreciate the brightness and the warmth that summer brings. The morning that just shouts possibility as I lace up my running shoes. The pool with its rippling, clear water, and my flower beds, always needing me for some attention. It's full of life, action, adventure, and the romance of those star-filled skies that keep me up late into the night. I still like fall, but I don't look forward to it anymore. Life has been changing too much, too fast, and I can scarcely keep up with it all. The coming of fall used to be a sweet reminder of a much-needed rest from the heat and busy days of summer. It used to signify a time to slow down and come inside. But all of that just gives me too much time to dwell on the changes I don't want to face. I would much rather stay outside with my face toward the sun. Wouldn't you?
Eight more days, and my oldest sweetheart leaves for college. The leaves will turn, the air will turn crisp, and soon the pool will be closed for good. The flowers will die off, leaving piles of dried vegetation in their places. So much change, too fast!! Stop!!
But life won't stop. It will simply pause and take a break for a season. And I will too. I won't have a choice in the matter. The painful thing about life is that nothing ever stays the same. The good thing about life is that nothing ever stays the same. Somewhere in all those changes I just have to find all the blessings and keep growing through these seasons, remembering not to hate the season, but to learn its purpose for my life.
And to move through these times with courage and grace, realizing I can't avoid change. I can only embrace it. (I hate that word) I can only accept what is to come, because if I refuse, that means I remain stuck in the last season. Much like grief...moving forward is key to healing. It took me a long time to realize I was grieving the changes in my life-girls growing up, friends changing, life in general not what I expected...typical stuff, I suppose. But grieving those things just keeps me chained to them, and that's not what I want or need for my life.
There is a time and a season for everything. While some seasons hold a lot of bad news or rough spots, and some bring back memories I would rather forget, it's not the season itself that I should avoid. It's the way I approach the changes, and the amount of courage I apply to them.
Can I enjoy fall again? Can I watch the leaves change and fall with the same passion as I did before? Maybe not yet, but one day I will. There's always hope to be found in change.