Last in Ocean View series

This is the day the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.”

Psalm 118:24 NKJV

With Seattle’s Best steaming from my coffee mug, and a fuzzy throw on my lap, my Yorkie and I watch the last comfortable morning move into the day, pushed by a north wind. It is November 11, Veteran’s Day, as well as the forecasted end of warm weather. We’ve enjoyed an extra helping of beauty and warmth this fall, even with the great need for moisture. Given my druthers I definitely take dry over too wet, so I’ve hung onto this fall, maybe too tightly. Some farewells, though expected, are just not welcome.

In the distance, I see trucks working to complete a highway project we had hoped never to see begun. Now we can hardly wait to see it finished. Over with already! Some endings are welcome!

One year ago, due to my sister’s wise planning, our brother and I met her for a Veteran’s Day lunch. The weather was drizzly, cool, and with his disabilities it was an effort he could’ve understandably forgone. Had he not joined us however, to honor his military service, we would not have this last good memory of brother’s time with us. Less than two months later he was gone. Some goodbyes are unexpected.

Like my brother’s old yellow wheelbarrow upended against my potting shed, I am now ready to resist cold rains (if they ever come). We’ve piddled in the lawn and gardens the last couple days; partly to prepare for winter and partly to just be in the presence of what we know must depart. Thousands of poets, nature lovers and old folk have described seasons as life cycles, and life cycles as seasons. I never grow tired of it. God’s hand of grace feeds my grateful heart season after season. Whether a daily departure of the sun’s glow, or a season-following-season farewell, nature teaches us the importance of seizing the day – to appreciate and use the time – but also to just take it in and be grateful.

One memorable moment of farewell for me was a September sunset on the beach. Here, the beach is its own kind of loud – the resounding wash-sh-sh, wash-sh-sh, wash-sh-sh of the ocean with the frequent seagull call and a distant helicopter’s clap clap clap. Voices and laughter more rowdy by day, are now subdued with sunset, and blend with the waves to form a quieter ‘white noise’, leaving you with your own thoughts. It pulls me in and I hear myself think more loudly than the din of the beach. It is more than a delightful sunset. It is the glow in my heart for the R&R with my husband and the satisfaction of enjoying something new. I think the secret of truly enjoying our time and being able to smile at “so-long”, is not planning too much; being still to allow ourselves to absorb the surroundings, being in the moment.

In our days and nights, in our seasons, and in our relationships, we tend to push so much into them, complicate them and force our expectations upon them. That is when we cannot say goodbye with ease; when we want length and fullness that were there, perhaps, but we missed it. Or, sadly, the length was not there, and for those of you, I wish you more; more length and breadth and glow.

I am not missing this autumn season. I have been ‘in the moment’ much more than in the past. In recent seasons of life I learned to choose my battles and I’ve let some go. I have silently observed loved ones, and actively cheered on others I love as well. If I’m distracted with what I think I have missed, I miss what I have. Life goes on, and someday it will go on without me, and without you. I hope my sunsets will be full enough to allow my loved ones to smile and say it was good for me to have been here. Most importantly, will I have helped another to face their farewells; to embrace their sunsets and stand strong against the harsh north winds.

Over the past two and a half years, I made four difficult drives with the sunset in my rearview mirror; two from Graves County – first, leaving my young brother in tears at a nursing home, and last, leaving from his home where he had passed away. The other two drives were from a Tennessee cemetery, first for my daddy who left suddenly November 13, 2020, and fourteen months later, for my brother. Though the goodbyes within the departures were heart wrenching, they never diminished the beauty of the sunset. In fact the sunset’s glow reflected my mood and warmed me at the same time, with hope and the knowledge that I was not alone. Whether expected or not, welcomed or not, farewells are as sure as the sunset. and sunsets offer us the glow of hope, and the beautiful promise of morning to follow. Trisha

Farewells
Goodbyes may come at sunset, some in the dead of night.
Some at break of day, and some in noon day's light.
Whether they are welcomed or whether met in pain,
A new day will be dawning, and there's sunshine after rain.
Live time in the present and embrace your given life.
For farewells surely come, whether in peace or strife.
Take courage and have hope, for love lives, and never ends -
'Tis the force that takes our endings to where new life begins.


Autumn Encouragement

New green wheat blankets the field where Spring's hope lies.
Fiery red hawthorn berries set off the deep blue sky.
Sweetly fragrant roses hanging on to the bitter end
All nod their pretty heads at the growing North wind.
One lone pink rose, a few glowing red, 
And two sunny yellows will soon be put to bed.
Happily present, not concerned with tomorrow -
Like the song birds' singing - full trust without sorrow.
Warm sun on my face, wind chimes in my ear;
Dried okra pods stand waving in the air so clear.
I envy Nature's graceful stance, in the firm face of change,
amazingly coaching us, encouraging and teaching us, to do just the same.