Fall is in the air and here comes Melancholy

A walk around our front acre of land was just what I needed today.  September is here and summer will soon be a memory.  Summer without mom was a difficult season for me as I spent so much time in the past seasons at my mom’s house, enjoying her easy company.  Now here is my first fall without her.  Being outdoors reminds me of how much mom loved to feel the grass and dirt beneath her bare feet; the dirt on her hands as she planted new rose bushes or fall mums; the wind in her hair blowing softly on her face. 

Life in Texas was good for mom.  Her roots were planted here; she was born here in 1925 and left Texas when she was 18.  She wasn’t happy anywhere but Texas where she was close to her parents and her brothers and sisters and all that was familiar to her.    She was the child that when grown, spent the most time with her parents and devoted herself to them.  I believe she loved them more than all the other siblings because she wanted to spend time with them, she wanted to do things for them and she did spend as much time as she could with them when she moved back to Texas from Indiana.  It was not a chore or duty for her to be with her parents. 

When her daddy died, mom cried, that was the only time mom allowed herself to cry openly in front of people that I can remember. I never saw her cry again.  I’m sure she did it privately.  It was as though that was a weakness for her and she didn’t want to show that emotion openly though the things she went through during her lifetime I’m sure tweaked some tears from those beautiful eyes of hers.  She had a deep love for people. 

I continued to walk around our land and speaking to mom, telling her the trees were abundant this year with pecans and how much fun we would have together picking them up if she were here.  Dad also enjoyed picking up pecans and cracking them too while watching ballgames on television.  He and mom would dig in the bowl before they saved enough for cooking.  I can see them now-mom getting a handful  of the pecans dad had just finished;  dad good naturedly scolding her to “Keep your mitts off my pecans”.

I looked up at the azure blue sky and smiled, knowing I had the gift of a lifetime, a good mother, a mother who was loving, understanding, kind, loved life and had a wonderful sense of humor –the whole package in one mom. 

In October, Chick and I will pick pecans off the limbs and ground, just as we did for so many years with my parents.  We would all go scouting in early years around Erwin Park and Cross F Ranch, down the roads where pecan trees drop their treasures in the fall.  We picked them up near their house on Lee Street in McKinney before the neighborhood spread the boundaries into apartments, businesses, and more concrete, and cemeteries - - anywhere we could find those tasty morsels.

I miss my parents, and I can’t reach them now other than with memories of days gone by.  These are good memories and they bring me pleasure and love across the years.