It's fitting that I name my blog with my mom in mind because A.) she has constantly been prodding me to write since I was very young, and B.) because she will be the only one who reads it:) Enjoy, Mom!
For as long as I can remember, my mom has considered the fall to be the season she likes best. When asked, she will tell you her favorite holiday is Thanksgiving. Her favorite recipes include a broad range of soups, homemade breads, and other cozy comfort foods that seem to come with the drop in temperature. I never thought i would find myself in agreement with her choice of favorite season, but recently, I've begun to see what she might see in that time of year. For me, the crisp weather starts to bring back memories from a simple time in our family... a strong memory in particular.
In those days, we lived in a gorgeous house that I didn't appreciate until after we moved away. It was built on the side of a mountain with picture windows framing an assortment of towering trees, the neighboring mountain, and the river just in sight. Every day, mom would take us on a walk down the narrow, winding road that crept by our house towards the next town. Some days we walked to the big curve in the road, other days we walked to the county line. Once we even walked all the way to the library... although we must not have thought it through because carrying books all the way back home was not as fun as we had anticipated!
We were surrounded with the beauty of raw nature on these walks. In the winter, it smelled of evergreen, in the spring honeysuckle and clover, in the summer goldenrod and bluegrass. In the fall, I didn't even notice. I was too busy looking for "wisher leaves". Mom told us that if we caught a falling leaf before it touched the ground we would get to make a wish, so our autumn walks consisted of us scrambling to collect the leaves. My memory of this is so vivid that recalling it immediately transports me to a moment of my childhood where me and my siblings were standing with our hands outstretched towards the sky, waiting for our "wishes" to land in them. Even now, I find myself pausing to fondly remember those days...
Now that my family is spread throughout the states, and even a sibling overseas, I realize how perfect those moments were when we were all together on that narrow, winding road. We are all grown, some with families of our own, so there is little chance we will all gather for a walk on a chilly afternoon again, all bundled in sweaters with the hope of apple cider when we get back home. I doubt there will be another day where we will race together to catch a leaf before it's too late...
But if it were the fall,
and if I caught a wisher leaf...
I'd wish for it all to happen one more time.
As a child, I never noticed how incredible it was to have the people I loved most around me everyday. All along, I thought catching a wisher leaf would give me a wish that I could use later. It took me 12 years to realize that if I had taken a moment to look around at my family, I would see that a beautiful wish had already come true before that dry oak leaf touched my hand.
