As all things with nature—sleep comes about them during the fall season. But as they prepare for months of dormancy, for the rest of us—fall signifies beginnings. In my life, fall is a trigger of time passing as each new season introduces a beginning of the next progression in this journey of life.
As the leaves begin to turn yellow, I remember marking a new school grade for each child. I’d watch the excitement on their faces as I walked them to their new class. I was quite excited for them that I didn’t want to admit to myself that it was another season that they are working towards a life on their own.
As an undergraduate, when our household was only filled with the two boys, fall signaled to me an organized chaos where as soon as I dropped them off at school—I’d drive on over to campus and walk to my own classes. The walking part was often accompanied by own thoughts. As the trees watched over each step, every now and then, they would shower me with their leaves. I’d stop when such things happened with the notion that they are wishing me good luck for the semester. I was grateful that it was the leaves falling on me, and not the bird poop coming from a flock of birds leaving the state; such mishaps often lands on several students. Although, my grandmother would say that getting bird poop on you is really good luck.
The walking on campus hasn’t changed much in years. The trees are still there greeting me each morning—except this time, it’s a walk to my office instead of “Introduction to British Literature.” I do wonder how much these trees have witnessed throughout the years. I’m sure that there are Monday mornings when I am walking from the parking lot to the office that they must whisper among each other:
“She’s a hot mess today, guys.”
“Oh, good God—did she forget to curl her hair?!”
“What has happened to our dear girl? She’s starting to develop two wrinkles in the middle of her forehead!”
“Oh dear Mother of God—what is she wearing?”
“We still love you, dear girl. Let’s shower her with leaves—make sure not to mess up the make-up! 1-2-3-go!!”
Yes, I do believe they have these conversations.
When I think of time in a sense of the fall season, I often get a bit sad. The season sometimes brings forward a comparison of a life once filled with sitting on the bench watching the last of the soccer season, and also the start of a football season. It also brings memories of a car filled with all three children as I drove them to school or to their after school activities. And, these days, it’s marked with how closer the Prima gets to high school graduation. There’s two more years, but I’ll try not to count them too much.
Perhaps, it’s also the realization that fall also signifies another year in this life that is continually filled with memories.
However, the sadness as they manifest, instantly fades as the realization of what comes after the fall season: the back-to-back holidays filled with happiness and joy.
What is one interpretation of happiness and joy? They come in the form of all three children sleeping under the same roof for the Christmas holiday.