“Autumn is the mellower season, and what we lose in flowers we more than gain in fruits. “

18 Oct

The last few lovely days of 2007 are upon us, and we bask in it’s sunshine, the soft warmth of fall, the automatic scent memory of wood stoves and crushed leaves in our noses. The trees shine yellow, orange, purple-my candy dreams come to life around me.

Conjure up if you will, a target smile of comfort, blissed out eyes, closed off into their own little world. This is where I am most at ease, most alive. During the transition between life and death, summer and winter, I find my place. A child born of that division, forced to acknowledge it forever.

But I don’t mind. Fall lingers in my pockets like an old favorite of a book, nothing too chewy, nor too easy, but just right-just enough to make you ponder and think, make you wonder. Just enough to help you fall off to sleep each night.

If a season can be home, then autumn is mine, with all it’s nooks and crannies.

 **********************************

We trudge off to the park, as we do most nights, dragging Poppi along, trailing sticks and cigarette smoke.

“I don’t trust you on the road Poppi.” Vivian states as he pushes Rosalyn down the street to the next sidewalk ramp. “Get off the road.”

Bemusement fills his face. “Little Dictator” he mumbles as he plods along. I grin silently.

***********************************

We watch Rosalyn toddle along from slide to slide, veering between her favorite red one, the fast one, and the shorter yellow one. She hops when she runs, almost like a rabbit, but cuter, that irrepressible toddler spirit humming along.

“Mom would have loved her.” I blurt out. “She’s just so adorable and girly…”

“yeah.” My father says. “Think of the pink frilly dresses she would have bought. Oh! The pink!”

And it’s only the truth. Love might be equally shared, but everyone has a secret favorite, a child whose heart matches theirs just that little bit more, the child who just gets it, the child who fits just right into the crook of your eye. Rosalyn would have been that child for my mother. The daughter who wanted skirts. Who wanted little girl things. The cute little girl, loving and warm.

A little part of me is jealous, even of the relationship they would have but couldn’t. My mother would have understood this child in a way that I can’t, ways I might never. I envy that.

My father and I sit quietly for a few moments, lost in thought, watching Rosalyn go up, down, up slides. Perhaps my mother watches as well, putting down her sewing to hover around Rosalyn’s head, making sure she doesn’t fall too hard or too far.

I like that idea.

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7 Responses to ““Autumn is the mellower season, and what we lose in flowers we more than gain in fruits. “”

  1. Bon October 18, 2007 at 7:11 pm #

    wistful, just like autumn. it’s true that very seldom do the generations closest in age (ie parents and children) happen to “get” each other…and lovely if you happen to get two kindred spirits living in a family at the same time.

    i am sorry that Rosalyn never got to meet your mom. i am glad you get to see her, in moments of your mind’s eye, taking pleasure in your daughter nonetheless.

    i liked this post, a lot.

  2. Gabriel... October 18, 2007 at 7:27 pm #

    Hi Thor… question: can you edit your posts right now (7.25pmEST)? I’ve lost some functions… when I go to edit a page or post nothing shows up in the Post Box. What happened to your about page?

  3. Gabriel... October 18, 2007 at 7:37 pm #

    Never mind. Sorry Thor. Apparently it’s an issue across WordPress right now.

    http://en.forums.wordpress.com/topic.php?id=16996&page&replies=24

  4. marcelarhodus October 19, 2007 at 7:35 am #

    I’m so moved.
    so beautifully written and so true… specially when you say “Love might be equally shared, but everyone has a secret favorite, a child whose heart matches theirs just that little bit more, the child who just gets it, the child who fits just right into the crook of your eye” so so true.

    I was that child to my mother, and I so wish her to be looking upon us and smile at her grandkids…

  5. Cori October 19, 2007 at 8:46 am #

    Gorgeous post!

  6. thordora October 19, 2007 at 8:49 am #

    Bon-my mother would have loved Rosalyn in all the ways I know she wanted to love me-but I was a tomboy, not a girly girl, not “the girl” I know my mother wanted. She loved me for certain, but I was not the type of girl she had expected.

    Marcela-I think we both tear up a little thinking about our mothers watching over us, don’t we…

  7. thordora October 19, 2007 at 8:52 am #

    Thanks Cori!

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