This Season

Autumn has arrived. Yellow birch leaves fall on the front yard. The maples are turning red and the remaining Ash trees begin their transition from a tinge of gold to deep eggplant. Last Wednesday I walked in the morning and purposely took the route around a huge block that includes a park and public elementary school. I walked that way so I could stand at the crest of a gentle slope that affords a wide open view of the sky. That morning clouds were building in the northwest ahead of a cool front. Sunlight from the east meant the northwest sky was that autumn gray-blue with undertones of lavender that I love so much. 

I came home intending to write a blog post. While looking over my knitting for the post, my sister called to tell me our brother John, 67,  had passed away. He and his wife and one daughter were on vacation when he died unexpectedly. They were at a beach house enjoying the outdoors they loved. 

And so the season changes. While our hearts are heavy, we are richer for having had John in our lives. He was a wonderful brother, husband, father, grandfather, and friend. Whether he was sledding with his grandchildren, training labrador retrievers with his daughter or friends, or smoking a rack of ribs for a group, he loved the outdoors. His successful newspaper career took him all over the midwest working as circulation manager and then as publisher/editor of several papers. Wherever he and his family lived, they made a circle of close friends. He was a good partner as we helped our parents through the end of their lives. As my sibs and I became increasingly busy with our own families, John checked in via phone with all of us. Usually once in every conversation, he'd say, "We should all get together." We should have done that more often that's for sure. Sometime later we will gather to celebrate his life. He wanted to get us together but I'm pretty sure this isn't what he had in mind. 

James, John
Jane, Julie

This past June my sibs and I had a few golden hours together in Minnesota. I am grateful for that time and for the photos we took. We all will miss him. 

This autumn, he and his family, as well as others who have lost loved ones this year will be on my mind. The falling leaves are a gentle bittersweet reminder to let go with grace. To everything there is a season.