Colors of Life

Recently I walked a pathway where the autumn trees where a splendid reddish orange with streaks of summers green, clearly identifiable of the season passed.




The leaves were raining down, floating on the gentle autumn breeze. Standing in the midst of this falling into a season of perfection I stood in awe. A gust of wind sent them scurrying across my path. Once again stopping to catch my breath, somberly recalling the previous year.

Having walked this very path, in this very season; this season, where the sunlight dances upon the vivid color of the leaves dangling from  branches. Images of how dull and lifeless the trees once were invade the beauty.

 A dear friend of mine and the father of my oldest daughter had just passed away. My spirit was so filled with mourning, I saw only massive trees, wanting, bending like weeping willows, hovering over me, mocking the gloom that hovered over my soul.

The wind blew only there was no gentle, beauty nor calm rather an unwelcomed stillness. Wandering on this path ensnared in a measureless sorrow. I remember asking God, "Who will call me when I am thinking of him?" when the end of a long day arrived and all I want to do is pull the covers over my head, the phone would never again ring with his voice on the other end, “Just checking on you, How you doing?” It was if he always knew some how just the time I was down in a funk and he would call me speaking into a void. I cried a lot. Dear God, I spoke out loud; how will this ever be okay? How will I ever heal?

Finding myself caught at a cross road of parallel seasons where the path I walked then held the same beauty as the path I am on. The only difference was my perception. Events we experience while simply living have a way of changing the color of our life. They change us, sometimes temporarily, sometimes forever. Life keeps changing me. My friend is irreplaceable. I am forever changed as I miss him forever. My answer to how will this ever be okay has come to me time and again in many ways. There are times I still cry when the reality of never seeing him again overwhelms me, or when I remember the plans he talked about for his future, for his children, will not be realized. The more important part of life is I can laugh again when I think of him, as I remember something witty he said, or did.  

  I look at our daughter and grandchildren (I’m thankful to have held on to what my heart spoke to me years ago, when others said it was best for me to terminate my daughter’s life) I see so much of him.  I cannot imagine not having this. I see a heritage from God knowing it is Him who has purposed each life and he makes no mistakes.

 Not long ago my oldest grandson was goofing off. He slid across the kitchen floor and I saw his grandfather in him. Something I can’t explain happened inside of me. It was if my spirit connected to God's plan. I rested in an unexplainable  peace. Everything has a season.  something settled inside, forever settled.

 As I continued on my walk amidst the splendid radiant colors of fall, the sun shining, the wind scurrying leaves across my path, standing for a moment in absolute silence of the mind under the trees where golden leaves dangle like jewels, I look up into the blue sky  giving thanks to God. God, who holds eternity for the precious, treasured time my daughter had with her father and I with my friend.

I will always know when my telephone rings it will never again be him. This is the imperfection of my otherwise imperfect PurrfextLife.