the red leaf

i open the door and head down my street for a jog.  it's gonna be a quick one, just to get a little exercise in.  i have to be across town in an hour to pick up 3 kids from 2 different places, so i just plan to head up the hill for a few minutes and race back to the van in the driveway.  the season is technically autumn, but the temperatures just don't wanna let go of summer.  i go up the hill on my street then turn left and huff and puff up markham hill to pratt place.  once up there, i feel like i conquered mount everest.  i picture those college cross country team girls that run up this same hill in their little outfits that are quite similar bathing suits.  all of them, looking like they are taking a walk in the park as they run straight uphill.  to them, this run is a molehill and my thirty-something, trying-to-get-back-in-shape-self has made it a mountain.  now, i know this picture in my head of me conquering the highest hill is not reality, but the sheer fact that i made it up there without stopping to walk and without passing out gives me the right in my red face, dripping sweat self to daydream.  

i start the trek back down and it was there, about half way to the house that a red diamond shaped leaf with a stem it's same length helicopters down in front of me.  this didn't happen quickly.  it was like slow-motion tumbling down.  and in an instant, i can't breath.  fall is here and october.
everyone seems to love fall.  the leaves changing mean so much.  all that metaphor combined with throwing on a sweater and pumpkins at the IGA.

but october is the month that eliot went to be with Jesus.  and when we said goodbye leaves were helicoptering down like the one on my run down markham hill 2 weeks ago.  and at the graveside service there were leaves raining down on mums and pumpkins.  and after he was gone, we crunched leaves underfoot as matt and i walked and walked the streets of fayetteville with nowhere to go but going anywhere but home.  and in the throws of grief people brought me lattes with pumpkin and pumpkin muffins**.
i love all the fall things, but now, it's just different for me.  i see the red leaf on the way down and it feels like my heart stops.  i wanna go back to 2006.  leaves... they all turn their colors and fall to the ground and i wanna go with them.

on to one school and another and the van is filled with laughter and whining and singing and so much life.  little growing lives.  existing in the shadows of the ache of missing one is the joy of raising 2, 3 & 4.   and paul's words in phillipians pierce my soul.

but i am hard-pressed from both directions, having the desire to depart and be with Christ, for that is very much better; yet to remain on in the flesh is more necessary for your sake. convinced of this, i know that i will remain and continue with you all for your progress and joy in the faith... 

philippians 1:23-25

**(and just for the record, we all know taking someone who has lost their son a latte or muffins doesn't make anything better, but it is a spot of happy in the sadness and the loneliness of it all.  so if you know someone hurting and you think you should just leave them alone... for the love of pete, don't do that, get out there & take them a pumpkin muffin)