Breathing Fall

a boy and his dog

 I love fall.  I have always loved fall.  When I was little, fall meant new school clothes, the smooth feel of a stack of lined school paper, apples, the amazing colors of the trees as the leaves began to change and my birthday.  Finally, the hot humid days of summer were coming to an end and warm sweaters and knee socks were coming out of the back of the closet.  

I still think of these things as the days begin to get a hint of crispness in the air but over the years other things have skittered across my mind with the coming of fall.  New teachers for my children in school, shopping for new shoes to replace the stinky ones that have been worn all summer by little, and then big, feet.  Fall sports- first soccer and now football -for the boys and music lessons for all.  I think of the potential of snow coming to cover the weeds in my yard that I am tired of pulling, and the leaves we are going to have to rake before the first storm comes.  I think of the-man-of-my-dreams birthday and how much he loves everything fall.  I think of the acorns falling off of the trees and try to remember what the farmers almanac says about them and what they mean for the winter to come.  I think today of the quickness of the passing of time and wonder at the reality that my baby boy is now a senior in high school. 

What will I think of next year as school starts without any of my children dressing for that first day and standing with the dog on the front porch for the painful, first day of school picture?  I don't know, what I do know is that I am going to breathe in every mother-moment with this amazing last child and be thankful for the memories of fall that each of my children have given me.