Change in the Weather

While we slept, autumn arrived.

Summer has been lingering for weeks, stubbornly hanging on with hazy humidity and disconcerting warmth. Deep inside me was a yearning for the cool air and sharp azure skies that only autumn can bring, the perfect backdrop against which to etch crimson and gold leaves just beginning to appear.

Overnight, my yearning was satisfied. I dug long pants and sweaters out of storage, pulled on a new pair of soft gray socks, laced up my walking shoes, and set out with Magic and Molly to take full advantage. As we walked into the brisk morning air, it was clear that my two little dogs had felt a similar longing. Magic took of flying down the street, entirely forgetting his 14 years and the occasional arthritis in his hindquarters. Molly, often a reluctant walker, gamely kept pace. When we reached our usual turning point, Magic adamantly refused to go back, digging in his heels and urging me to take the long way home.

We did. 

Giving Love Away

There’s not much left in my mother’s house this morning. One sofa, a table and lamp in the living room. One lonely more sofa in the long rectangular family room. My grandmother’s bedroom set, my teenage bedroom furniture. A big old desk in the basement and some empty storage cabinets. The new owner was happy for me to leave those things behind. And I, suddenly extremely weary of this process, was only too happy to comply.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about the process of giving away my mother’s belongings. There have been many hands involved, much word of mouth, and finally most everything she owned has found its way to new homes, new owners, new uses.

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Full House

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Our house is full this week, with our son and his family visiting us from Texas. Our grandson's  bright and bubbly laughter is a welcome intrusion in these normally quiet spaces. 

They have been visiting us annually each summer for the past four years, and there are certain things that must be done during each visit to Grammy and Papa’s house - things like a trip to the “bread store” in downtown Northville and walking the dogs to get the daily mail. There are certain toys that must be in their accustomed spaces - the parking garage on one corner of the coffee table, a stack of books on the other. In just four short summers we have already established traditions and rituals that he remembers and counts on.