Ramblings and Musings
Autumn has (finally) arrived. I have been anticipating this season. It is my absolute favorite time of the year for all of the cliche reasons. For three years is has also been an emotional trigger which allows me to return to a sacred space. The moment the crisp air arrived, it was as if I could close my eyes and be back to this time in 2015. The rattling of the storm windows, smell of the cider candles I adore, the sound of the crows cawing from the tops of trees all allow me the opportunity to feel it again.
The pain has been welling up in my chest recently. Oliver seems to have stabilized for the moment and we are settling into a new normal. As my intensity for his care ebbs, my grief for the daughter I have already lost begins to flow. My tears haven't come easily, a drop here and there. Until this morning as I sat in the back pew of our church. A favorite hymn was being sung and I wept.
I wept for Waverly. I wept for Oliver. I wept for Matt. I wept for me. I wept tears of gratitude that I could finally reach and sit in my longing for Waverly once again. I wept because my sweet boy is slowing succumbing to this dreadful disease and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it.
We have lived on our stress for 6.5 years and I don't remember noticing the tree above until Waverly was dying. In her final weeks we spent so much time indoors, so when I emerged into the light the vibrancy was overwhelming. Since then this tree has been a favorite of mine. It is huge and dominates the trees around it. The leaves always turn flame orange on the side closest to the street for weeks before the entire tree looks engulfs.
There is something about this particular tree that I find so mesmerizing. The top is already a tad bare, while the rest of the tree seems to be moving at different paces. Some leaves have reached full color while others remain green.
I shall cycle like this tree in the coming month. So much energy exerted to keep moving forward, only to release, rest up and start again anew. I will embrace the time of dormancy that I require during this season in order to carry me through.
I read a verse from The Message this week as I spend time in the Psalms. "What a wildly wonderful world, God!". Indeed.