The white-hot days of summer have passed, leaving in their wake the changing leaves and the sharp bite of chilly nights and breezy cool days. This is my favorite time of year, bringing unbidden memories of new school clothes, new teachers, new activities and new challenges to face. There always seemed to be a newness about this time of year, a chance to set new goals, to accomplish ever higher aspirations and to open the book of life to a fresh, new page and begin writing.
I miss those innocent days of childhood when my most burdensome worry was to finish my homework, make it to the pep club meeting or find a date and a dress for the upcoming school dance. Those days seem very far away from me now with three grown sons, nine grandchildren and one great grandchild. I relive the various stages of my life through each of them and the experiences they share with me bring precious memories of my life in similar circumstances.
And yet, with winter’s icy grip slowly driving the warmth from my days and nights, I feel a sense of deep contentment. For me, the long, cold nights and the chilly days give me a reason to read, to write and to contemplate the mysteries of those complex relationships which are the threads woven into the tapestries of our lives. Each thread has it’s strong and weak points and depending on the skill of the weaver, may either contribute to the richness of the design or be part of the fringe which strengthens and frames the outer edges of the tapestry.
As I sit here on this cool, fall day writing, I think of my three sons. Those three threads upon which the tapestry of my life was begun. They each, in their own way are special to me. They are tall, strong and handsome in much the same way their dad was at the same age. They have naturally inquisitive minds, a passion for life and an independence of spirit which I treasure. Each and every one has played his part in the creation of my own tapestry. Certainly, at times, the picture has changed, yet no thread has unraveled or been lost. Each change in personality or life’s direction has added threads of it’s own, bringing depth and color to the overall scheme.
I love each of my sons and as they head down the paths of life which they have chosen I would tell them…gather your threads where you may. Create your own tapestry in rich and loving detail. Your lives each began with two single threads woven together. You are each the creators of your own destiny. My contribution was that tiny thread of life which was nourished by my body and my soul. I might ask that it be used with love and compassion to refine the richness of the whole picture but I can make no demands. Use it or throw it away as you wish but always know that your threads will be there deep within the intricacies of my own tapestry. They are running fine and strong throughout the changing landscape of my life and will forever be a part thereof.