Autumn Remembrance

I love autumn. I love the beautiful colors that paint the Pennsylvania hillsides. I can't get enough of the smell of the leaves, either. I know...I'm odd. Once upon a time I was a cross country runner and we were a fall sport. That is probably why I come down with an overwhelming urge to run all September and October long. I love making soup and stew and grilled cheese...all those delicious comfort foods that taste a little bit better as the temperature starts to drop this time of year.

As much as I love fall, it is also a sad time of year for me. Last year my family lost three members, my grandfather in September, my aunt in October and my uncle in November. The October before last we lost my other uncle to his battle with cancer. I haven't figured out when you stop missing somebody so much that it hurts.

This past weekend the hospice group that helped care for my aunt and uncle in their final days held a memorial for the patients lost over the last year. It was so nice to hear their names read aloud. That may seem strange, but my aunt and uncle's only child died twenty years ago. They didn't have any immediate family. It was so nice to have them recognized...to have somebody else acknowledge that they did exist and they did matter.

I know a lot of us have lost people close to us...in fact I don't know many people who haven't lost somebody they love. If you would like to leave a comment and share a memory of somebody still in your heart, or just share their name, it would be nice to recognize and celebrate these loved ones together. I think sometimes there is comfort in knowing we don't mourn our loved ones alone.

My grandmother had this poem on a small picture that hung in her kitchen. I always found a little bit of peace in it.

I cannot say, and will not say
That she is dead. She is just away.
With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand,
She has wandered into an unknown land
And left us dreaming how very fair
It needs must be, since she lingers there.
And you-oh, you, who the wildest yearn
For an old-time step, and the glad return,
Think of her faring on, as dear
In the love of there as the love of here.
Think of her still as the same. I say,
She is not dead- she is just away.