Autumn has finally arrived. The mornings are crisp and the nights are clear here in southwest Arkansas. The trees are getting bare, but a few crimson leaves still remain on the maple in our side yard. I look forward to cuddling up under the covers next to my sweetheart during the chilly nights. He is kind enough to let me place my cold feet against his legs so I can get warm. The days are cool now, and that is a welcome change to the record breaking summer we just endured. These autumn days are drenched in routine, and I like routine.
I sit in the few silent moments I have each day and I think of days gone by. I suppose that the holidays bring out the sentimental side of me. I remember the cool days of autumn in my house on Karen Street. I remember my dad starting the first fire in the fireplace. I remember how he let me roast marshmallows. I remember curling up in Dad’s recliner beside the fire, reading a book. Sometimes, I wrapped up in our “lion blanket” – a furry throw with a lion on it – and wrote in my diary. I can still see my dad standing in the door after a long day of work and saying, with a mischievous grin, “You’re in my chair!”
“Finders, keepers.” I’d say with a smile back. I’d hop up and re-locate to a comfortable, albeit cooler, reading nook. He would then sit down and recline back with a sigh. He placed one hand on his head and looked up, thinking about the day. I knew not to talk much, not yet. He was a talker, but everyone needs their time to unwind and just be quiet.
I’m a talker too! But, yes, even I need my silent moments to just sit and think. I often have more “quiet times” during these happy autumn days. For me, it’s easier to think while snuggled under a blanket, sipping some vanilla flavored coffee. And when I think, I think of Dad. I think of his smile, his strength, and his stability. I think about making him proud, even though he’s only a memory now. It’s a clear, vivid memory though. One that I deeply want to pass on to my little ones.
I see his little namesake kicking and cooing beside me and I wonder what he would say if he could talk to me now. I wonder if my little “Ron” will be as great as his Papa, Ron. I hope so.
Thanks for reading my “rambling.”