This is my favorite time of year. It conjures up back-to-school clothes, new paper and pencils, 3-ring binders with the spines still intact, Elmer's glue before dried glue has clogged the opening, a brand new box of crayons...nothing smells better than that.
It makes me think of high school football games. When the Isaac Litton High School Marching 100+ raised their instruments and played Malaguena we all knew another fall season had begun. Our Friday night warriors would take to the field, and win or lose, we Litton Lions could not have been more proud.
Years later, I watched my own son play football. His team won....a lot. I cheered him on, many times more loudly than he would have wished. I think of dinners with other players' parents at small restaurants somewhere in West Tennessee, and the comraderie we had as parents of those boys we loved (and love) so dearly. I think of silent prayers offered when one of our boys was slow in getting up after a play. I think of one mom and me bursting into tears when her son intercepted a pass right in front of us. Why did it matter so? I don't know, but it did, and it is fresh in my mind when the weather turns so wonderfully.
This promise of fall makes me think of Halloweens past. I love Halloween. No store-bought costumes for my kids. At age 2, my son went to nursery school dressed like a clown. He actually wore his dad's size 13 high top Chuckies...all day. Yet another confirmation that he was a kid after my own heart. We had Raggedy Ann, Dorothy, witches and ghosts. The year my son was the queen was most entertaining. The year my children dressed as headless people was awesome fun. I love warm apple cider and ginger snaps. My dad carved great jack-o-lanterns. I loved it when he gave them ears.
We have friends who owned a house in Gatlinburg. When the weather turns like this, I think of wonderful weekends at that house with them. We took beautiful hikes, ate well, listened to peaceful music, read, and had many grand adventures. When they sold the house, "he who wishes" and I dressed in our hiking clothes, took a picture, and sent it to them with the caption "all dressed up with no place to go." I miss those times, but I remember them with gratitude. My friend always says that the third phase of any experience is the memory, which always lasts longer than the actual experience or its anticipation.
My favorite holiday is Thanksgiving. The weather yesterday felt like November. Thanksgiving is that holiday when we as a family gather at my house. Everybody brings something. Good and faithful friends join us. Sometimes we have "out-laws" (our in-laws' families). Thanksgiving is when we seek out the ones who have crossed our paths who do not have family here. It may be someone we have met through delivering Meals on Wheels, a fellow football official, a handyman recently divorced, anyone who needs a place to go. The only gifts we bring are our presence and our love. We remember past Thanksgivings, and make note of those who have moved on to the next phase of their journey through eternity. We sit around the table after the food has been devoured and tell well-known stories, of which we never grow tired.
It is not fall yet. But, the leaves of confetti scattered along the ground is a glimpse of the promise. So, for today, I wish you sweet memories of autumns past, and
blessings
I remember some of those Thanksgivings we were orphans and had no where to go...eating at your table is the ultimate in fellowship, fun and delicious food. Miss you!
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