Falling Leaves

It’s a Friday morning. Late September. In North Country. Not just “North County.” High Peaks, North Country. Which means the colors of Fall are starting to roll across the mountains. The landscape at 2,000’ is suddenly more textured. More layered. More revealing of the majesty of this land where six million acres of wilderness will soon enough snuggle into its 152,000 full-time residents for winter snowstorms, sports, and hot chocolates. But now? Now, the upper sash are open, laundry will dry crisp outside, and the birds are all still here - as far as I can tell - save the tiny hummingbirds and the butterflies and moths, who have already started their journeys south.

Today is my birthday. I woke up and it’s ten years later of my first self-published book coming back from my first printer, and I wash in how exciting it all was. We were in our first year living in the Outer Banks. I was going to leave the practice of law for full-time retail antiques. Kevin was running saws to make custom furniture. .

Think about your own life since 2018. Could there have been any more drama than there was? So much to reflect upon!

If I have learned anything, it is that I must allow that things will change. Not “can,” but will. Leaves are going to fall off the ash, the birch, the maple. The chickaree is going to seed. The lavender scent will drift and fall off, all on its own. There is the promise and the hope of a spring after the winter to come, but there are no guarantees, are there?

And, if I live and love in this one day, I can allow that not to feel unstoppable. I can celebrate the now.

I call Bill first. After, we go to see Vladamir, Victoria, and Vladamir’s dear mom for bagels and coffee at their precious little shop on Main Street in Lake Placid. I call my girlfriend, Nadine, who texts me (and we’ll speak later!). Steve surprises me with a call, remembering because he’s the guy with Outlook and a secretary. I text-to-schedule a call at tea time with my girlfriend, Trish, down in Beaufort, making sure I will be ready for her to share her sadness that her beloved dog unexpectedly passed away. The word “Aloha” is part of today’s New York Times word puzzle, and it’s as if I hear my parents, standing in front of me, smiling from heaven, in an uncharacteristically non-dysfunctional way that half makes me suspicious and half makes me laugh a private laugh.

Mostly, I celebrate that Kevin has made it through another year with me. He has needed support at times this past year that I wasn’t 100% available. I had one colossal meltdown a month ago that involved crocodile tears, even though I’m not completely clear what made me feel so helpless. Thank you, My Love, for being the best present ever.

Today is my birthday. I’m getting older than I would wish. But I’m taking comfort - celebrating even! - in the people who don’t fit into boxes who make this life one to celebrate living.