October 1, 2006

Dear Family and Friends,

Last night at dinner my Dad raised his glass high and made a toast. "To the all the memories we have had...and for those yet to come." We clinked our glasses and shared in his sentiment as we looked around the windows of Hall's Gas House in Fort Wayne where we were having dinner. Our group included my Mom and Dad, my sister, Jessie, and her daughter, Brandy. It seemed a small group after the barrage of relatives that were here two weeks ago.

Jessie picked the Gas House for our evening dinner as we had celebrated our birthdays, graduations and anniversaries there when we were all younger! We sat at a corner table, the best in the house, and told stories...our server took our photo as we all grinned from ear to ear. I remembered a boyfriend that sent a dozen roses there for my high school graduation..we could all remember which birthdays..and even which tables we sat at. As we told stories the wind picked up and a great downpour buffeted the city including the carriage and horses waiting under the awning. Within minutes the sun came home and the trees were jeweled in amber as the sun caressed their leaves. It was so breathtaking we all stopped to take a photo.

Following dinner we went to the Embassy Theatre to watch the 1926 silent movie of The General. It was accompanied by the Fort Wayne Philharmonic Orchestra. We had seats in the second row which allowed us plenty space for booing and hissing! It was a wonderful evening.

This week my folks will take to traveling back to Texas after almost three months. They spent time in Michigan with my Dad's brothers, in New York with my Uncle Dean, my Mom's brother, and then to Indiana to visit. They joined my book club....a special dinner at Aaron and Karen's and, of course, the wedding event. It will be sad to see them go.

Life changes.

Family comes. We embrace. We tell stories. We celebrate. We part.

I come back to the House at White Picket Garden that echoes with memories. Philip leaves early in the morning, and I come home again to his empty space.

Summer is also changing as she is beginning to pack her valise...everyone travels and she is no exception.

Today as I was walking in my small,town, I could not help but notice Autumn fiercely knocking on the door...she is wanting for summer to leave quickly, and I don't think she can wait much longer.

Scarlet
Gold
Tangerine
Russet
Magenta

Rustling
Crackling
Swirling
Spiraling
Weeping

Autumn

When I returned home from my walk, I picked up Aaron's pick up truck (and Matthew) and headed out to a local farmer to gather corn stalks and pumpkins for my garden gate and front porch. Matthew loved running from pumpkin to pumpkin, each one bigger than the first. I had to stop and breathe in the fragrant Indiana air...the sky was cerulean..it could not have been more beautiful. The farmer came over to visit....he filled another bag with Indian corn as a gift as I had spent my twenty dollar bill and that was all I had brought.

"I had a farm once," I said. I nearly choked as I spoke those words. Oh, how I loved Windy Hill Farm. "I grew all of this produce," I said as I swung my arm around in gesture. "I even had so many pumpkins once that I had to sell to a local farmer. My boys used to stand down at the end of the road and sell pumpkins for ten cents a pound."

As Matthew and I drove home, his job was to watch out the window to make sure my corn stalks were not blowing away. I thought about land and farming. Every once in a while I have fleeting thoughts of buying a little house in the country and doing it all over again. Cut my firewood, grow all my food...live off the land...as we once did. But the thought is fleeting and I arrive back home and haul the pumpkins out of the truck.

As I stand back and admire my afternoon's work, my neighbor comes over to ask how to store potatoes and can apple pie filling. She knows that I used to do all of that...by the gallons. She is a newcomer to gardening, and I love to share advice and my love of it.

I walk into my quiet house and wonder what I would ever do with 100 quarts of catsup at this point in my life!

Everything changes.

My Dad is so right...those memories we have are so rich...but there are new ones waiting for us. I mean, I plan to relearn the guitar this winter...paint my living room pumpkin color, fill my quiet night hours with reading and writing stories. Maybe Autumn should be the new year...so let's raise our glass in toast. To the old...to the new.

As for me, I'll close up the old house, blow out the candles, open the trunk to gather up the winter quilt as the nights are cold now, and listen to my cricket sing as I slumber into the Autumn night.

Love to all,
Lou Ann

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