Fall Is Coming.
It has always been my favorite season of the year. That is, since the first time I experienced seasonal changes as a teen, after coming to this country.
This affinity, however, is now taking on a different meaning for me. I cannot help but understand and accept that as time passes on, my life is a very much like a one year calendar which is becoming a little faded but yet comfortable to hold and to read, and that the approach of the fall season is very much like the approach, in my own life, of that period when an invisible barrier is passed and one accepts the fact that a good part of an existence has passed on, much like those pages on that calendar. Not morbidity, just reality.
Those older sheets in that calendar are choke full of notes and anecdotes; of happy notations and very sad marks… sometimes just a dark exclamation point on specific dates that mark painful moments; moments which leave a memory forever. Some of those pages are relatively blank. I don’t really know why. Perhaps they mark periods during which not much happened; those moments which just simply existed with not much to make them memorable. Too bad…
Much like the leaves on the outside trees, the hair changes color and, yes, sad to say, also begins to thin out and disappear. Eventually it withers from the cold and the harsher winter months. The difference being that the promise of a renewed and renewing spring is not there, like it is for those trees and flowers outside my window. Mother Nature keeps her promise of life to her children; to those which can renew their cycles on this earth, as well as those who will not… who cannot. But she has kept her promise to me… a life to be lived and enjoyed if that was to be my choice. Some of us have made that choice to rejoice, some of us have not.
This calendar has yet many pages to be filled. Perhaps with a sense of knowing and understanding that everything that is written may eventually fade and disappear but, nonetheless, filled they will be.
Years ago I was asked whether it would be good to know when that last page might be filled… I remember answering “Hell, No!” … Knowing this would take away all the beauty of the surprise, the hope, the anticipation, even the desire to explore and do.
I promise myself that whatever and how many pages there are to be filled, will be so. There won’t be any blank spaces left at the end; no more of those “unremarkable” moments which leave an unmarked space. Can’t afford many more of those; every moment has to count ad be counted.
Fall is indeed my favorite season for it is full of color, change, promise and just pure wonderment. But I also look forward to winter. As it will eventually and inevitably approach and yes, arrive, its cold winds and caresses will be just as beautiful and as welcome as those of spring, summer and fall have been.
Be Well … Be Back!!!
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