Gratitude: A True Autumn

Living in Texas means having two annual seasons: HOT and Cold. There is generally a moment of spring followed by an interminable summer which holds on for dear life until a split second of autumn gives way to windy, rainy, icy winters. We don’t have the pleasure of weeks and weeks with brisk fall breezes and colorful leaves that drift to the ground lazily to signal the onset of the holidays. Instead, we generally see temperatures in the 80s and even 90s until almost (and sometimes into) December, and our leaves simply shrivel up and vacate the trees overnight. It’s not unlikely for Texans to wear flip flops until Christmas or beyond. Our fall season really only means one thing: football. But this year has been different.

The temperatures in North Texas began dropping in early September, providing an average in the mid-80s and nights in the 60s, and then October brought even cooler temps down to the 50s at night. This month we’re experiencing quite a lot of days in the 70s, and nights have been true sweater (and sometimes heavier jacket) weather. I can’t remember the last time this was true for us! But the best part of all has been the color. There’s not much of it — certainly nothing comparable to other parts of the country — but in my own neighborhood I’ve seen more trees in color than any other time in my life. And for that I’m so thankful! Autumn has finally been true to its name.

This is typically the extent of fall color for us.

 

And this one tree is generally faithful to turn each year… for about two weeks.

 

But in five years of living here, I’ve never seen this… and right in my own complex! A true blessing.

 

gratitude: a girl + 3 boys

                clockwise from top right: Kiwi, K2, D, and W

There will never be a list of thankfulness that doesn’t include this girl and these three boys. They are my heart and my soul and my joy and my treasure. Though I remember life before them, I can honestly say there was no true happiness to speak of. But since they became part of my life, every day has been filled with thoughts of them and prayers for them and mindfulness of how our lives affect each other. And the coolest thing of all is how individual our relationships are. I am aunt to every one, but we all interact in completely different ways. With the Kiwi girl it is about dreams and encouragement and reminders of how God works in every tiny little thing that occurs in life. It is also about the 80s. Kiwi is obsessed with the 80s and tends to know more music than even I, who lived through the 80s. Obsession, in fact, just might be one of our greatest shared traits; it helps us understand each other and makes for good times.

With her cousin K2 the conversations center around shared interests in baseball and the Yankees, in pop culture and the crazy things that happen in life. We find lots of laughter in mundane things, and we have such a laid-back relationship that nothing at all has to be planned when we hang out together. We can just “be.” This is not the case with his brother, however, the youngest of the kids. Dyl Pickle is high maintenance, high energy, high on life and extremely sensitive to all that goes on around him. And he wants to be involved… all the time, with everything and everyone. There is no relaxation with D around, not for me, anyway. He wants activity. He wants conversation. He wants constant attention, and I resolved early on to give him that. The Pickle is unique in very specific ways and requires a different kind of finesse than his three elders. But the reward for all that effort is priceless. Joy emanates from Dyl. And it lights the room.

Then there’s the W. Actually, I suppose it’s more apt to say “Dubya.” He’s country, through and through. Football, hunting, puppies, and friends. And a passion for Star Wars and Legos beyond any I’ve ever seen. Star Wars was our first shared connection, a long time coming, so that is usually his starting point with me. But as he matures we find other small interests that sync up. Dubya and I are still finding our footing, still searching for that intense connection (mostly due to lack of time together since we live in different towns and he’s not yet online like his sister), but the fact that we are still developing our relationship is actually half the fun. It means we’re open to discovering new things together. And of all the kids, W is the one most like me in his desire for knowledge and his penchant for obsessions. That’s going to serve us well in the years ahead as we develop a deeper bond through experiences.

In this life I’m most grateful for these four. They keep me balanced and they make me whole. Parents always say how surprised they are that children can make such a difference in them, and I can see how that is true. What’s especially awesome to me is that I don’t feel any void at all in not being a “parent” myself. I’m privileged to be part of the village that’s walking these children through life. They feel like my own, too. And that’s the greatest gift I’ve been given.

gratitude: sisters

photo taken December 2008, because last year’s Christmas shot was frightening on many levels and not one of us looked good enough to post online. Sisters, don’t say I never did anything for you.

The thing about being one of three sisters with no brothers is that everything boils down to a competition. Whether we tried or not, one of us always had to be on top, to be first, to have the floor or the last word on a matter. And with three, inevitably that meant the situations were two against one. Joanie, on the left in the photo above, will always say she was odd man out, being the middle sister and all. A lot of the time that was true, but a lot of the time she chose to make herself odd man in order to cry foul. So Janeen and I would do everything we could to show her the many ways that could backfire. Janeen, shown in the center of the photo, is five years younger than me and that span was just enough to become allies without ever feeling a generation gap. So we milked it, too. When Joanie took the “poor pitiful me” angle of middle child, Janeen and I rallied as a strategic unit of two. And the cycle was perpetuated throughout our lives.

The really great thing about growing up, though, is that you get second (and seven hundredth) chances to make amends. While Janeen and I managed to remain fairly good friends throughout life, it has taken all of our 39 years together for me and Joanie to become confidantes. We still walk on fragile ground with each other, but we have learned to let a lot of things go for the sake of having a good relationship. And I won’t lie… it’s a lot of work to maintain such a balance! But the one thing I know now that I could never have predicted as a child is that all this work is worth it. There’s no greater relationship than the ones between siblings, and sisters really can have a special bond. I remind myself of that all the time. Without that closeness, without that unconditional love, I wouldn’t have a chance at relationships with their own children. And holidays would be lonely and life would be much more difficult to navigate. Parents are wonderful helpers, but sisters (and, I suppose, brothers too) are the great leavening in this earthly journey. Who else is going to be there when no one else will give you a second glance? And who else knows the path you’ve walked better than those who were with you at the beginning? My sisters know who I was and who I am and who I want to become. I’m thankful that they will walk with me as I maneuver the challenges to get there. And I hope you know, girls, that I will walk with you, as well.

P.S.   I find it funny that my words become so sappy whenever I write about you girls. I think that’s because I’m truly touched that we have become good friends in adulthood. Honestly, I never did think it would happen! So please forgive the saccharine, just this once. 😉