The days are growing shorter. I know this because my neighbor and I walk every morning at 6:30. Now I am like a chicken – in that I rise with the sun and it has become much harder of late to get out of bed when there is no light outside. We do get to see beautiful sunrises over the trees to the east and when we return the view of Pikes Peak is still a sight that thrills me. The only challenging part is getting up.
As I pick the fresh vegetables from my garden, I am subtly reminded that just like the shorter hours each day, this summer is winding down. The school bus is already coming up our road every morning and evening. Another school year is underway. Fall sports have begun. Winter is on the horizon.
It has been ten months since Dean died. I still think of him every day but without the pain now. Day to day living has pushed the pain away and that is how it should be. The good memories have crowded out the bad. When something reminds me of one of his stories, laughter has replaced the tears. Love will always be there but the next generation, and the one beyond that, plus daily living has my time and attention now – and that is how it should be too.