I don’t love autumn. I’m not a fan of cold weather. Watching leaves falling and flowers dying makes me melancholy. This is the time of year that we are supposed to be thankful. So, bring on the turkey and pass the pumpkin pie. I will force a smile and at least pretend to be thankful. I will try to look for the positive. Fall colors are beautiful. The ‘gravy season’ brings comfort foods that fill my body and my soul. My favorite sweater wraps me in warmth and familiarity and hides the extra pounds.

I also find Autumn a good time to reminisce. This time of year, as things slow down and as I slow down, it seems appropriate reflect on life. I will pull out old photographs, dust off memories and embrace them. I will use this time to let go of hurt. I will offer and accept forgiveness. I will bask in the joy of love’s presence in my life and honor the lives of those I have loved and lost.

Mom left this earth five years ago, but she’s still with me each day. I see her in my sister and my daughter and my granddaughters. I hear her in their voices. I feel her in their touch. Love is never truly lost. I’m not sure if it’s genetics or learned behaviors but Mom’s love carries on in these next generations.

This week my cousin and I visited our 94-year-old aunt. She is my mom’s younger sister. They were just fifteen months apart in age. Growing up on a farm together during the Great Depression, the twelfth and thirteen children in their family, they shared everything and remained close all their lives. My aunt actually married my dad’s best friend, and our families became intertwined. Sisters who were inseparable and best buddies who carried one another home from World War II sounds like a movie plot, but it was true. They were America’s greatest generation.

My aunt is the lone survivor of that generation in our family. Time with her is precious. She is our only link to the past. Spending time with her is bittersweet. I am so grateful to still have her in my life, but I feel the ache of my loss more acutely when I see Mom’s mannerisms and hear Mom’s voice in her words. When I am able to set aside my selfishness, I pray that my aunt is comforted by my presence. I hope she hears my dad’s voice and sees my mom’s actions in me. I pray that her own grief is lessened in some way by my visit.

Each flutter of breeze brings another cascade of leaves falling just outside my window. It’s as if they are waving goodbye. And I suppose they are. But they are also promising to return again next spring as green buds and leaves that will sprout again.

Because love is never truly lost.

Peace,

Denis

God causes the changes of the times and seasons. He gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to those who understand. Daniel 2:21