Falling into Winter

There are times when I just don't want to take another step - in any direction but backward. Back to the "good old days" when life was carefree and delicious. Back then, I wanted to leap like a flying trapeze artist into the future.

Well, spring has sprung, and summer is behind my back. I am heading out of fall with an unwilling footstep. Oh, I do love where I'm at right now. Colors fill my being with the warmth of burnt orange, deep purple and setting sunlight.

Even though I forget a few things, and can't find others; life is sweet as a tart fall apple. I am wiser, you see. I am at a point in life where I can take a few precious moments and peruse life, and what it means now.

I live in a small cottage with a white picket fence. This little piece of home is located in the most beautiful place I've ever seen. I am surrounded by vermillion cliffs and crags that glow in the setting sun, as if this place were the outskirts of Heaven.

The azure sky beams through pristine air, with soft white clouds to soften the scene. The smell of pinion, cottonwood, oak, and smoke from my neighbors fireplace; plus the wet smell of moss, willows, and red mud invade my nostrils. I truly believe, there is nothing better than this place and this time.

With eyes slivered, barely open, I peek around the corner of my life. I know there is no going back, and I am still fighting the next step. I know it could be slippery, and I have no idea how I will stand in that cold place.

Why can I not live my life surrounded by fall colors, with pure water to wash myself clean of the past? Why must I go on, when right here, right now, I am happier than I have ever been?

I have watched others who have closed the door of fall and walked into winter with their eyes straight forward and their shoulders squared. I don't want to crawl through that door, let alone walk.

So, I sit here and reminisce, living in the loving arms of my mother and hers. Finding safety in the strong arms of my father and his. I look at the lives of my children and grandchildren, and know that the desire to see what happens in their lives is impossible to squelch.

Yet, I must go on. Time only pushes forward, and never will push me back to those sweet days of spring, or the halcyon days of summer. With one last breath of autumn fresh air, I will step forward into winter.

When I do, God grant that I do it without complaint, with eyes staight forward, and with shoulders squared.

Notes

My siblings and I are the oldest generation in our family now. I miss my mom and dad. I miss my grandparents. I miss my aunts and uncles. I never knew it would be quite like this. So, I honor them and the example they were in my life. I wish I could have just one more talk with each of them.