AIN'T IT THE FALL

Dear Friend, I couldn’t help resonating with your comment about fall being a difficult time of year. The fall and early winter seasons always bring me face to face with my aging, since I have a fall birthday. It also brings up my long past, which I keep in the background most of the time. Yet, when as it is such a formidable presence, it becomes difficult to ignore. And I do know, dear friend, that the work of real life is now, not then.

Sometimes It seems that I have lived several lifetimes and when I try to make some sense of it all, the effort fails miserably. It doesn’t make any sense. It’s just life and it’s meant to be accepted and lived as well as it is possible to do so. There is no standard that fits us all. Each of us lives by our own unique constitution and Bill of Rights.

Your comment reminds me that our vulnerability is our most shared experience. The Superhuman that is portrayed in magazines and Sunday supplements is a construct made to order, usually to sell something or solicit your vote. It would be a horrible mistake to think we are supposed to be like that. We’re not supper human - just human, which is quite enough.

True, there are those who are true heroes of modern life and whose example comes near to shaming some of us who are less driven toward achievement, or who are just tired of the effort. At times I think those people are the loneliest of all, but that is little more than a juicy rationalization.

I have always considered fall the “family” season. However, If you live long enough, family becomes scarce and very likely scattered. Friends can be an effective substitution, but friends are all dealing with the very same things you and I are dealing with.

Our Thanksgiving gathering is history since the death of Ruth, CA’s mother. I do so miss her and the nexus she provided for us all for quite a few years. There is talk of a gathering, but it’s only talk. We live so far apart and holiday travel is such a testy chore. We’ll have a turkey. We’ll dine on it for days.

CA and I have forsworn the traditional Christmas Tree around which we gathered with all the ornaments, each with its unique story, which was repeated in epochal solemnity. We have a “boxed” tree now that serves to acknowledge the indelibility of the event in our lives but takes less room in the room, if you know what I mean.

We’ll swap gifts, open packages sent from afar and perhaps walk on the beach and then indulge ourselves with Chinese food. We’ve done that for years on most Christmas days. It seems to work. The Chinese, for the most part, do not do Christmas. It must save them a lot of money.