Monday, September 27, 2010

Shivers & Shadows

This morning felt like every bit of fall. The air was chilly, we could even see our breath as we walked to the bus stop.
It was so cute to see my little ducklings all bundled in light jackets in lieu of bronze skinned arms, and their sandals and clogs have given way to tennies and wool lined Crocs.
As silly as it may seem, these mornings are the most important times for Evan and I. After kissing sister adieu before the bus drives her away to her world away from home, we walk slowly home. Sometimes hand in hand, sometimes jumping or skipping, sometimes singing, and sometimes in quiet stillness.
It's our special time together.
We say hello to our friends, the shadows, who walk along with us, peep back at the birds, who were probably curled up in their nests a little too long this brisk morning, and balance on curbs and cracks.
Today we found our coat pockets. His tiny little chilled hands cuddled inside his front pocket like kangaroo joeys, knocking him off balance a time or two, but new excitement nonetheless.
The spider we usually see wasn't there today, and there were more leaves on the ground than before. Fall is all around, we are welcoming it with open arms.
Now off to the porch for some warm cocoa and tea and we'll see what else fall has brought on this shivery, shadowy day.
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  1. How many times in our history I must have noticed some similar scenes and events as these, only to leave them behind undocumented-- like the daily trek I made with you three in the self-modified 2-toddler stroller and backpack carrier up and down the hill behind Golf Range apts in Knoxville, TN, to bring you & Kurt home from Montessori w/ Alex on my back. Yesterday Al paid me back again by lifting an incredible amount of extremely heavy furniture from Auntie's apt to her storage space. I could have never done it without him, just as he could have never made it up the steep hill over the railroad tracks to Kingston Pike over 3 decades ago soon after he was born. Thank you for recording these priceless memories. I saw a multitude of items and even pictures belonging to Auntie in her wake, but nothing compares to words of description when the one who is experiencing it is no longer there to tell about it. <3

  2. Yes, I think one of my OCD symptoms is also the fixation on my own (and others) untimely deaths. I often think that one day, I will die and the kids and John will at least have all these memoirs to remember me by. Hmmm...perhaps I'd better make sure I'm in front of the camera more! Ha ha!


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