Indiana in the Fall

I remember one year going to Indiana in the fall. It was early yet so the trees were still in the midst of changing. It was a lovely combination of colors. Brilliant greens that had yet to give way to the fall change amidst the bright oranges, reds, and yellows of the changing trees.  We drove one day, down to Nashville, Indiana, a small picturesque town about an hour south of Indianapolis. For me, visiting this small town was much like stepping onto the set of Gilmore Girls (a favorite show of mine). I stood on the gazebo and observed people moving about with cameras, busily catching the images. I remember hearing the church bells chime the hour in a singsong melody. Vivid flower pots teeming with flowers mixed in with fall decoration and hay bales. 

I stood with my mom, who is also a fan of Gilmore Girls, and laughed with her on how we almost expected certain characters to come bustling across the center of town. Perhaps, Lorelai would go racing toward the diner for yet another cup of coffee. Maybe Rory and Lane would walk up onto the Gazebo and sit for a chat. I joked with mom that I almost expected Taylor Doose to come running up when we hovered over a plaque commemorating the first public water pump for the town. We paused to take a picture on the gazebo, mom and I, to commemorate that moment in time. Mother and daughter, much like the show we enjoyed, relaxing, having fun in this small town that was just bursting with charm. It was such an enjoyable and memorable day. Certainly a place that’s marked on my list for another visit. Perhaps, I’ll go when it’s off season, find a small B&B. Who knows maybe I’ll run into a few unique characters then too?

A different kind of journey

Today in honor of my dad, I wish to share a story of a different kind of journey. Today was the day I lost my dad. It was close to sunset and my family and I watched him struggle to breathe knowing it wouldn't be much longer before it stopped. We cried quietly and held each other. My step-mom stroked his head and held his hand when he took his last breath. I remember how quiet the room got. We all just stopped, staring in wonder at how different the room felt. He wasn't there.

I remember clearly walking to the window where the blinds had been shut and I opened them. I was thinking about Italy and how the literal translation of giving birth means to bring to the light. I stared out the window, a little numb and thinking that dad had just been born in a different way. He had transitions from life to death but now in the hands of his angels. I watched the sun slowly set and could almost picture him crossing into the light, entering into a new journey. I heard the quiet crying behind me while a couple family members shared a few stories of his life. We laughed a little, cried more. I stayed by the window and as the sun lowered behind the horizon, I murmured quietly to dad, "welcome to the light."

A year ago

A year ago today I was preparing to go on my epic road trip. At this point, reservations were made, destinations decided, and the countdown had begun. Now my focus turned to getting ahead in school so I could leave the classwork at home for the week.

I spent my days pushing my love for reading to its very limits. Polishing off the stories, Jane Eyre, Frankenstein, Wuthering Heights, Rebecca, Sherlock Holmes and the Hound of the Baskervilles, and more. Four-hundred pages polished off in two days then followed with an essay discussing the book. It was an amazing journey through the pages of these books. As part of me wished dimly to be able to participate in National Novel Writing Month, the thought formed and then vanished as quickly as it formed as I traveled across the moors in Sherlock Holmes. I traveled the countryside with Jane Eyre as she searched for a new home. I tip toed through the halls with the woman who learned about the despicable Rebecca and followed Victor Frankenstein around the countryside as he chased down the monster he created. As I prepared for my journey across Northern California, I traveled in my head following the stories of the characters I grew to love, enjoy, or despise (Victor, I'm looking at you, you spineless weenie).  It was a journey I loved taking and cannot wait until I have more free time. Perhaps, I'll make a visit back to see Jane Eyre again, slower this time, more enjoyable to soak in all the amazing details brought to the pages by Charlotte Bronte.

Fall Vacation

As I enjoy my first hot apple cider of the fall, I can't help but think back to my childhood when my parents, brother, and I would head to Flagstaff for the week of Thanksgiving. I so loved the idea of missing the entire school week instead of just the two days, even if it meant taking homework packets with us to Flagstaff. We would spend the week exploring the timeshare, going to the tennis courts to play terribly executed games, playing games of mini golf and spending time at the clubhouse drinking hot cocoa and cider. It was a break from the normal daily routine, with the exception of the homework packets. When we finished the work we had to complete each day, my brother and I would tear off like freed convicts to once again resume the explorations of the timeshare.

More often than not, dad would come up to join us after work on Wednesday, he had to work so would miss the first part of the week. When he arrived, it was so exciting, it was almost time for Thanksgiving. I always knew that when I woke on Thursday morning, the wonderful aromas of a special Thanksgiving dinner would already be wafting in the air. Mom would fix her special breakfast strata and I would eat breakfast, smelling the stuffing and wishing it was already time for dinner. I loved watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, something I still love doing today, and feeling that special closeness of family on that lovely holiday.