Month: August 2023

Fall has always been my favorite season, ever since I was a little kid. I grew up in the north, where there are real seasons, not like the eternal, blazing-hell, never-ending summer in the south. I love the fiery colors of the leaves, the cool air, snuggling in a blanket on a chilly morning. I love football games, sweaters, holding hands and feeling alive in the beauty all around.

My mom loved fall, too. I smile when I remember how happily she would say “It’s so delightful!” when the temperatures first dipped, when she could leave windows open and enjoy the autumn day.

Ever since my husband and I moved into our house, I have enjoyed decorating for fall, from a wreath on the front door to leaf garland around the door to fall-themed décor on the fireplace mantel. The first year, I sent pictures to my mom, who loved all of it and ended up sending me more items that she thought would fit in well. It started a tradition of decorating and then taking pictures to send to my mom, so she could see the items she picked out, mixed in with all the rest. It was simple, sweet, and it made us happy.

Last year, I decorated but never got a chance to send my mom any pictures. She was in the hospital, and I spent as much time as I could with her. I remember admiring the glorious display of fall foliage from her high hospital window, the stunning red, orange, and yellow flames of leaves, and hoping she could see it, too. And feeling like it was unfair for her to miss all of this, her favorite time of year, and how out of place, just wrong, it felt to ache so much against the backdrop that brought us so much happiness in the past.

I don’t remember, after she died, coming home and packing up any of our decorations. I don’t even remember if I did it, or if my husband did it. When I went back up north for her funeral and to help my brothers clean out her house, I spent as much time as I could in the backyard, watching the lazy afternoon sun gleam through brightly colored leaves, trying to latch onto and store and hold onto every memory as best I could. I laid down on the grass under one tree that was blazing in gold, all of its leaves a brilliant yellow, and I watched the sky and clouds through gently dancing leaves, hurting so much that crying seemed pointless, but also feeling just a little closer to my mom there, because she would have found it beautiful, too.

Recently, the thought flitted into my head that maybe I wouldn’t decorate this fall. I pushed that thought aside almost as soon as it formed. We don’t honor our dead loved ones by no longer enjoying things that we adore. No. This year, I promise to celebrate and enjoy fall even more, to appreciate every second, for both of us.

It’s still hovering around 100 degrees outside here. It doesn’t look or feel like fall, not even a little bit, and it won’t in September, either. That’s okay. This fall is going to be about finding peace, showing love, letting myself be happy, and wrapping my arms even tighter around people like my husband, who make each moment with them as splendid and cherished as a perfect fall day.