Posts Tagged: seasons
Flip Flops Be Gone
It seems like fall is f i n a l l y here, and I’ve traded my flip-flops for those oddly comfortable Trailbreak Crocs.
Yesterday, I even needed a sweater at the park (the park by the pool that is all closed up and covered tightly.)
Now I wait. I wait for fiery colors to emerge. For night to fall even earlier than it does. For extra blankets. And, howling wind.
Yes, my flip-flops are all but done, but fall ALWAYS makes my belly do flip-flops.
It’s that time of year again
The kids dressed up, collected all the candy they could, and promptly gobbled it up.
The turkey was basted and browned, delectable fixins’ were made even if part of a recipe was left out, and thanks was given.
The days are shorter, the nights are colder, and the rust colored leaves have all but fallen off the trees.
The time is near, when the lights are carefully strung, and Nutcrackers and Nativities dusted off.
The songs will be sung, more feasts will be prepared, and the love of the season will be heartfelt.
The end of autumn nears as winter begins to take its rightful place; the spirit of the season dawns, and we shall rejoice!
This is {NaBloPoMo}
Cross Your Heart
One-by-one, big, fat, salty tears rolled down my cheeks during the opening “marriage” montage of the Pixar film “Up”. The notorious lump in the throat formed as I felt it vibrate and grow with each musical note. That opening flash through Carl and Ellie’s life got me. And it got me good.
I think it was the depiction of the tenderness of marriage that got me. All the milestones and moments along with the pitfalls and ever changing pace of life. It was how, at first, [they] could run up the hill full of vigor, and how they later helped each other, carefully, to the top. It was how they lived and breathed one another. It was romance. It was hardship. It was pure beauty. It was the epitome of marriage and all we crave and desire.
Marriage is a twisted path on which we travel. There are seasons. Times we feel heat and sweat pouring, when it’s hard to breathe or feel comfort. Times the brush is so thick that we get caught up in twisted vines, when it’s hard to get through or move. Times when it’s bitterly cold, when the once raging fire is dissipating, begging to be poked and rekindled. And there are times when the leaves fall off the proverbial trees, when we are exposed and allowed time to remember why we even set foot on the path; this path that wasn’t cut out for [us], but that [we] have traversed diligently.
Our children wouldn’t have understood why I was crying—so I held back—but deep within me there were pounding sobs.
After fifteen years of togetherness it’s easy to pass through the seasons allowing them to take their toll. It’s in the autumn of my life , though, that I am reminded of the vulnerability of our hearts. It’s when I can watch a four minute montage of a children’s movie, with tears streaking my face, that I can clearly recall that this path is indeed an adventure. It’s the adventure of a lifetime, one that isn’t easy or always romantic, and it’s one that’s worth staying the course…seasons, scrapes, sweat, and all.
Michael,
I love you madly. I hope you always sweat with me in the summer, put your cold feet on me in the winter, gaze at the blaring colors of the leaves with me in the fall, and hold steadfast as our flowers grow in the spring.
Yours,
Mishelle
