Archive for October, 2008

I can still look out the window and on most days see the golden rays of sun streaming across the grass, the sky is a cobalt blue and some of the flowers still bloom in my garden;  The scene is very misleading and yet I wonder how it can be Autumn–nothing much looks as if its changed.  Later when I walk outside to pick some flowers  I realize how far from reality that pretty picture is.   Outside everything tells me that change is prevalent and that the golden look of autumn will be less and less as the days pass.

Not long ago the summer days were dense with humidity, as searing,  lemon rays of sun let little shade be available.  Now the day is dryer and cooler.  The  less intense, golden sun helps create the cobalt sky, as compared to the intense, lemon sun  that dominates the azure summer sky.   The closer I get to them, I see that the flowers stretch and bend their little heads to get more sun and their leaves no longer are the rich green of summer, but lighter with a cast of silver gray signifying their cycle is close to ending.  The color of the grass and the bushes is also less brilliant, except for the parts that are in the shade.  There the grass thickens and the patch widens, no longer impaired by the searing sun.

Last night I noticed the leaves at the top of our red maple tree  have changed  to a luxurious red/blue velvet and soon the breeze will gently carry them to lay on the grass.  Since both colors are each others compliment the velvet leaves are even more striking on the green grass.  The other trees near by will add their own leaves and they will be not less brilliant in their coats of yellow, gold and orange.

The little plants (only little because I am their protector and provider) in the garden call out for attention.   I know it is time to trim, cover with peat moss or a more protective covering so they survive through the long, cold, blustery winter.  As I attend to them,  I think it is also time to thank them for their profuse blooms this year and bid them a fond farewell until I see their little heads poke through the ground in spring.

As I tuck them away for the winter, I also think about how I tuck my Mother in each night with a light blanket now and a heavier covering as the weeks pass and the temperature drops.   The plants and she feel the same to me.  Each beckon to me for  help to do something that they can not do.  Yet, they are also dissimilar because the plants will cycle and continue their growth, while my Mother is completing the one cycle of life that we have.  As I watch her now I wonder when she will finally rest and have peace.  That moment is as unknown as being assured that each little plant will return from its sleep in the cold.

All of this makes me reflect on all the similarities in the human realm, particularly how words fit so easily within each.  It is Autumn now and I am in the Autumn of my life.   I am past the days of vigorous growth and production and now linger within a time where my leaves seem to have fallen!  It is a place where I am waiting until I can move to a more productive stage again.  It is a time that I can reflect and compare how I have changed.

The changes mostly are minor, but they are significant to me.  Where once I popped up off the floor, now it takes a lot longer.  Where once  I could garden the whole day and after I quit I was as good as when I started.  There are times I start doing something, like today when I put the eggplant in the grill and didn’t remember it for quite some time.  Its memory brought me tumbling down the stairway to see if between the grates of the Foreman grill would there be slices of egg plant or some unrecognizable thing laying there, staring and almost laughing at me.

This Autumn of my life is much different than when I reach my Crepusculum, although, once I felt my twilight was far, far away, now I can see where it could be just over the next hump,  that one deciding impediment that one meets in their lives and they know it is time.  But the Autumn of my life need not be completely sad and recognizable for only its nuisance problems, it can still be filled  with golden rays just like in nature’s Autumn.  Autumn is a transition leading to the great change of Winter, but in that reality there is still that little special ingredient I had forgotten for so long.  Hope is still in nature’s Autumn and it is still in my Autumn.  In the Autumn of the year there is a Hope for continuing to have the golden sun, warmer days and even the hope of a white, white Winter where rabbits hop across banks of white snow  and a Hope of Spring where tiny plants push up through the dark soil.  In my Autumn there is hope again, Hope for Happiness (yours and mine), Hope that God lovingly answers my Mother’s orison, Hope for a new wonderful Tomorrow, something she and Shadowlands will be happy that I want and Hope in Faith that all is meant to be.  Autumn under those jurisdictions seems as golden as it can be!


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Facing a Reality


Once more I ask you to understand that this post is not about the Crepusculum.   The next post will once again address my feelings on entering my Crepusculum, but for now and for a couple more posts I will share with you my life as it is presently.

You are invited to play “You Are My Sunshine” by clicking the audio button.  This particular accompaniment is a recording by The Gene Autrey Band.  Sing along please.  The lyrics are slightly different than those originally written by Jimmy Davis and Charles Mitchell.  I first sang my version to my Mother four years ago while she was in the Critical Care Unit, following a major stroke.  It has become our anthem.


You Are My Sunshine

You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
You make me happy
When skies are grey, or purple, or pink….
You’ll never know dear
How much I love you
Please be be my sunshine for all of my days.

You are the Mother
I am the son–
You always have loved me
as much as I have loved you.
You’ll never know dear
How great you have been
Please be my sunshine for all of my days.

I have taken nearly a lifetime to accept the simple reality that my Mother will die.  Now I question, each day, will it be today, tomorrow or another day, but regardless it draws nearer and nearer.  The daily changes are significant, particularly, when Momma becomes quieter and quieter and less willing to speak or even answer a simple question.  Yesterday was the first day in three weeks that she interacted with me, but now today,  stopped responding this afternoon.  I don’t think that it is always in her power to communicate, even though there are times she can express displeasure very quickly.

It is during her quiet times that a phantom meets me face to face causing  me to be bewildered and  and weak  and  then I  realize how easily my nemesis reigns.

Daily I watch and understand her unhappiness and feel the malcontent within her heart.  I know that I would never be able to withstand the onslaught of degeneration she experiences and now I have begun to respond to that call and pray that I support her own orison that begs a speedy departure from this physical life.

Her beacon shines bright toward heaven and as she waits quietly and serenely, I  will support her appetency.  In so doing, a few weeks, ago  I wrote a poem embracing the idea of her departure.  By writing I hope the words will soothe and strengthen me,  particularly when my nemesis becomes overwhelming……….

You Are My Sunshine

Lately, I also realize I must tell this incorrigible, phantom it will not win.   I will support my Mother’s departure and I will repeatedly, read this poem because it came from deep within my heart and that its’ spirit will continue  to minister a balm that will ease me into change.   I have also begun to believe that Momma will be in a heavenly paradise where her spirit will no longer be plagued by her earthly pain and she will be able to be happy and be with everyone she loves that preceded her in death.  There she will also be able to be my Mother, standing with open arms and a warm smile, as she  welcomes my sister and I at our time.

A friend suggested that I prepare myself now for a new identity,  an updated life plan, where I  will no longer be a caretaker/protector, but one that allows growth in my own life.  I hadn’t really thought of this before because I intentionally blocked it from my thoughts.  Now I can see how important a plan is and how it will form a bridge between here and where I need to go.   As I have written before, my Mother’s wisdom shines yet to this day.  One day, not long ago,  my Mother spoke to my sister.  She repeatedly told my sister that she was worried for her.  Eventually, my sister reasoned that she was not speaking of her, but of me.  She was concerned about my life following her death.  Even so close to the end of her journey she expressed her concern for me.  When my sister told me, I didn’t think much of it until I understood that she knew before me that  I need to make new plans for my life.

I may have acquiesced to Momma’s orison, but in doing so I realize how little time I have left to get ready and to be with her.  And so I shall continue to write as much as I can to help me, but I also will spend as much time each day kneeling at her bedside, head to head so that my voice is directed straight to her ear;  Momma will quietly lie there, I will babble on as usual and then, every once in a while Momma will respond and I will send that moment directly to my heart to be locked away and not forgotten.

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