Friday, August 27, 2010
To Every Season Turn, Turn, Turn
I stepped outside this morning and I could not only smell it, I could feel it. It's the turning of the season. We're on the fringes of summer but the beginning of fall is calling out "make room for me and I'll cool your spirit". The breeze announces that the woods are more fragrant and the tune of their leaves deepen as they mature on the limb. The night air lingers into the morning saying goodbye to the summer heat and the birds find respite in the change of season.
Is your favorite season the one in which you were born? Coincidence or not I was born in October and fall is my favorite time of the year. Autumn is not a subtle season. You see it coming with the changing of the leaves; you hear it in the trees; and you feel it in the air. Fall brings memories of sitting in the bleachers as our son played football for six years, traveling to other towns around the state. Now our football games will be sitting together watching the Mountaineers play in the Kidd Brewer Stadium where fall comes earlier.
We were in the mountains last weekend moving our son to college once again; a season of life change. The air there was excitement. Excitement as the students returned to campus and anxious freshmen arriving for their first college experience. On Saturday we were walking on King Street with our son and his girlfriend to enjoy lunch together before our departure. I witnessed something that I wish I could do it justice in words but I'm not sure I can.
We parked our car and as we walked down the sidewalk about 20-25 feet away stood a slender young man just shy of 6' with his back towards us and his mom facing us in an embrace on the narrow sidewalk. The petite mother had to stretch upwards to hug her son. The patient dad was sitting in the driver’s seat of a late model F250 pickup with the passenger door open. As I looked closer tears were streaming down the mom’s face and her eyes shut as tight as the hold she had on her son. We walked past them and I had an urge to stop and tell them they would survive. The son, probably a freshman would soon fill his time with friends, activities and classes and mom would be lucky to get a phone call or an email. And mom would adjust and learn to let go by allowing him the space to become an adult. But I refrained, mostly because my husband and son were with me. :)
As we walked past they were still embracing oblivious to those around them. We were about 10 feet away and we all turned and looked back to see tears flowing down this young man’s face which made my son’s girlfriend and I both say “aawww” southern for isn’t that sweet! It was very moving. I didn’t cry when we left our son last year for his freshman year I saved my tears for home. And I dare say my son hasn’t cried over my departures since his daycare years. My tears hit me around Tuesday when I glanced at my son’s high school graduation photo on the refrigerator. It will take a few days before I’m ready to clean up his abandoned room because it still looks like he’s home or just gone for a few days. Enjoy the season you’re in!
Ecclesiastes 3:1 "To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven"