October 29, 2015
I am that girl. You know the one who plays Christmas music before the leaves start falling.
Who lights candles on the first crisp day…when the temperature reaches a cool 60 degrees.
I live for the season and everything it reminds me about my childhood.
The excitement, the prepping, the planning and even the anxiety.
October through December is my favorite time of the year. Nature forces you to get outside where an autumn sky is almost as pretty as her leaves. There is so much to see and so much to do. It's fleeting and brief, but maybe that's what makes it even the more special.
I have been trying hard this year to make time. To be present. To stop working so much.
To live a little more in the moment. To appreciate the season.
To let things go…even if that means there will always be dishes in the sink and a pile of laundry.
I've learn to trade it to find time to carve pumpkins, have wine and light candles…even if it's in a messy house.
Perfectly un-perfect.
***
When I go into your folks home on your wedding day, I see hints of your childhood. Maybe it's your kindergarten picture on the mantle or a handwritten 'I love you" on the fridge in five year old handwriting; that's weathered, crinkled and hanging on by dear life.
It doesn't escape me.
I turn around and see you in your wedding dress and I'm thinking like a Mama.
I can't help it. I have children of my own who I know all to soon will be walking down the aisle themselves.
We hear it all the time. It's a cliche. "Enjoy this time, they grow old so fast." And you do. And mine do.
When all we can remember is this moment and what tomorrow brings,
I'm thankful for a photograph, so I can be gently reminded of my yesterdays.
Some of you may have seen this image on my personal FB page. We had gone Halloween camping in the Catskills and came upon this picturesque lake. Seizing the moment, I told my kids to hop out of the car so I could grab a quick picture. There was one problem. My son was asleep, so I picked him up and stood him by his sisters. He wobbled and rubbed his sleepy eyes.
When I walked about five feet and turned to take the picture, he had sat himself on the ground and went back to sleep.
Perfectly un-perfect.
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