Leaves are falling – almost too quickly. I can’t help but want them to linger longer. The color sensations covering the trees in yellow, red, and orange hues bring a calmness to the air. But it is the sound of the crisp, crunchy leaves under my feet that brings autumn to life.
My senior year in high school started on my 17th birthday, falling on a Friday in 1981 and the first football game for the Dublin Fighting Irish. I can almost smell the hotdogs grilling outside the concession stand and the beat of the drums marching in rhythm with my heart.
My grandmother, whom I called Mama Dolly, tucked a note in the zipper pocket of my wallet as I left for the game. She didn’t instruct me to read it immediately. She didn’t tell me not to, either. She simply said, “You’ll know when it is the right time.”
With a win for the football team and a dance at the Episcopal Church, I quickly forgot about the note. Changes of wallets, mid-terms and finals, college looming and packing, I came across the now-aged letter the night before I would start my first class at the University of Georgia, almost a year after it had been written…
“To my Nora, Tonight is the beginning of an ending for you. And like the season we are entering – autumn – it is the hardest of all seasons of life. Autumn teaches us about letting go, about the inevitability of change, and being able to go a different direction. The leaves, which sprouted in early spring, grow through the summer months, come into a moment of glory, and then leave with the entrance of winter. You are no longer a child but a young lady stepping into adulthood. It won’t be easy. There will be moments of grandeur and times of defeat. Look back on this night, this year, with fondness but be willing to let it go. Like chapters in a book, you’ll never get to a new one if you keep re-reading the old one. I love you…Mama Dolly.”
Autumn reminds me to let go. Let go of pain. Let go of loss. Let go of past victories. Let go of children who are now adults. Let go of some relationships. Let go of what used to be.
The leaves, in all their splendor, will fall from the trees so that spring comes with new growth, new life, and new experiences.
As the sound of the crunching leaves echoes farewell under my feet, I remember the wise advice of my grandmother.
