Lynna Clark: A new season
Don’t you love the turning of one season to another? Currently our fridge holds watermelon on one shelf and carrot muffins with cream cheese icing on the other. Okay… so I ate the last muffin yesterday but you get the point. While I enjoyed it with a steaming mug of coffee, David ate the juicy remains of the last watermelon of the summer.
He’s dressed in shorts and a T-shirt while I’m wrapped in a soft throw looking out the window at golden leaves. One by one they carpet our yard and seem glad for the cooler weather.
So am I.
We haven’t seen our hummingbirds for a couple weeks so David washed the feeder and put it away. Apparently those little guys have gone wherever it is they go in anticipation of colder days ahead.
Personally we’re going through a new season too. Back in the spring of our lives we were busy birthing babies and enjoying all things small. Our house was small, our budget was small, our kids were small. But our dreams were big. Expectations for the future included large: a larger house with plenty of room for grandchildren and extended family; a large budget for big vacations and bigger gifts. As we anticipated our future together we expected our needs to be little and our life to be big.
As we entered the summer of our marriage, the house got big and the family got bigger. Oh how we loved it. So much activity and laughter! Our babies brought their babies and renewed our joy with each visit.
Now suddenly we find ourselves in the midst of autumn. Our house is small again since it’s just the two of us. When the family piles in we stack them up like loaf bread and love every minute. However, when they leave we collapse in our respective recliners and praise God. Our strength is completely spent. As my friend Ann says, “Tail lights are a beautiful thing.”
We never saw it coming.
Unlike the hummingbirds, I think I always expected it to be summer; to be strong and full of life. Now suddenly here it is fall and my hip hurts. I can get down on the floor to build castles, but I’m never sure what it might take to get me back up. Though my husband is a burly man he struggles with kidney stones. He has always been the strong one. Now he finds it hard to do ordinary tasks lest he activate an attack. I hate to admit it, but we might be closer to winter than fall.
At times I feel we’re on a sled going down an icy hill so fast that we must hold on for dear life lest we take a tumble and break a hip. What used to be adventurous now feels kinda scary.
When did this happen?
For breakfast we poured our Aldi-O’s, split a banana, and thanked God. As we enter this next season at least there are still two in our little house. When I sneeze I still hear someone say “Bless you!” And if I dare to build a castle on the floor with the grandkids, there is somebody near to help me up.
Perhaps I should celebrate this new season. Too bad I ate the last muffin. So here’s to all my aging friends. I toast you with half a banana lifted high in hopes that you will take joy in the small things: like golden leaves floating gracefully to earth; companionship; lifelong friends; and hummingbirds which will return again next year.
And may your coming season be filled with more thankfulness than fear.