Seasons of Transition

Fall brilliance of our favorite tree…

I’m watching the leaves fly by on their way to the neighbor’s yard in that annual ritual involving the glorious colors of leaf death.

This year it signals a somewhat erratic path to the season of long nights and short frigid albeit brilliant days up here on the North Coast of the U.S. In an era of changing climates, Mother Nature can’t decide if October should feature 70s and 80s or 20s and 30s. So, she’s doing it all for 2022.

Which is somehow appropriate for a year that began with celebratory plans with friends being dashed by my rip-roaring head cold – still no positive COVID test, though.  It’s been a year filled with unexpected, plan dashing experiences – another reminder of the truth in the old Yiddish proverb that “Man plans and God laughs”.

For example, no one expected my niece, Megan, to die in July. That was nowhere on a “things that could happen this year” list anywhere in our family. And then no one expected that would break everything in her family, resulting in my brother coming to live with us for five weeks.

I haven’t spent that much time with my brother in years – since I was in early high school before he left for boarding school. We have deep shared memories of growing up together in Mansfield – childhoods filled with music performances, road trips, and general 1960s/early 1970s life.

But then life happened – I left for college, he stayed with Dad after our mother died. I got married and dove into a busy life on the East Coast and then Minneapolis. He got married in Texas, had a son and then got married again and had two daughters, living in Mansfield. During those decades, we saw them regularly on trips to visit Dad. My kids have very fond memories of visits to Mansfield.

That changed after Dad died in 2006. Sure, I return for reunions or big events with close friends. But after my brother left Ohio in 2010, we only saw each other once – until this year.

Beyond the trauma of it all, the time with Tom was truly a gift to me. When we were little, I always wanted to protect my younger brother. He was a sensitive boy who grew into a caring man who I didn’t see for more than a decade.

While he was here, though, I re-met the heartfelt man who truly enjoyed getting to know his niece and nephew again. We had time to talk about a whole range of topics in person, and in five weeks, only scratched the surface.

I have no idea how this year will end, although I’m hoping for family gatherings, a few more friend dinners, and yes, jumping on last year’s rain check for New Year’s Eve.  

We’re actually making plans for a few big trips next year. And I won’t be surprised at all if any of them become something else at the last minute. Life is like that.