In the autumn the earth sheds whatever is unnecessary for the coming season of cold and stillness. The green leaves of spring and summer are given up to the wind by the trees that created them; as their verdant shades fade, they are made beautiful in fiery colors that oppose the air's wintry chill. This was my father's favorite time of year. He had to leave us at this time of year. He was born in the spring, when the natural world becomes expansive and new, but autumn was the season in which he felt most at home. A peculiar melancholia precedes the anniversary of his death; a creeping sadness that seems to have no reason, until the date on the calendar is realized. 'Oh, it is that day,' I think, and wonder how best to approach it. In many ways, I like to think of it as being just another day, after all, my Dad's death is not something I wish to dwell upon. But, if I were to move through this day without some sort of acknowledgement of what was lost, and of what changed, and out of respect for death and life, I would be turning against my own nature. So, this day has become both dreaded and welcome, for me, as the years have moved on. I celebrate and honor the life of a man who taught me to try and leave things in a better way than I found them, and I take a moment to mourn what was lost to me and my family. While this day is just a day, it is also sacred, as everyday should be. Whatever time I have to spend in the company of those I love is a sacred day, whatever day I rise and greet the sun and enjoy a cup of coffee is a sacred day. Just as Dad taught me to have an appreciation for the big moments in life, he really taught me to enjoy the nearby, simple things. Today has been a beautiful, overcast autumn day. There are few leaves left on the trees, and the ones that remain are not the bright oranges one sees early in the season, but the deep reds and purples, and dry browns of late fall. The air in this high desert is clear and has a bite to it now that the days are shorter. This is a day that my father would have enjoyed. And this is my favorite season.
I wish I would have had more opportunities to spend time with my Uncle Jeff. The few times I did get to spend time with him and the stories and memories my mother shares with me do allow me an appreciation for who he was and what he still means to those whose lives he impacted. My love and respect to you, your mom, and your brother. And cheers to the memory of your father. -Dan
ReplyDelete