Day by Day

No two alike

Weekends, followed by Mondays. This was a busy weekend, but then again, I can’t recall when I had one where I could just… not. Generally speaking, weekends are a mad whirl of activity, often fun, but exhausting. Monday is the day where I can sit quietly at work, and breathe while I focus on one thing at a time.

It’s funny, now, how I thought that having an empty nest would somehow magically grant me more time. It did not. I’m not as wrung out as when I had three toddlers and a baby, but then again they grew into teens who would help with things around the house. Those things are now my purview again. I have a clean house, but it is awfully empty, sometimes. Also, as I chatted on the phone with my son, who is planning to take a long leave over the holidays to spend with us, I threatened him with projects when he comes to stay. Which made him laugh, but I’m serious! I could use another set of hands for certain things I’d like to get done.

Life winds along, taking twists and turns we might not be able to anticipate. I was lying awake last night thinking about that, and about the reasons we have to keep on. For me? Motherhood is moving into it’s final phase where all I can do is offer advice when asked, and support from afar. My husband supports me, and I care for him as is needed, knowing that will grow into more sooner rather than later. His support is no little thing, although he laments no longer being able to work or help around the house, and I try to convince him that just being there for me, with a hug or a cuddle when I’m down, is so much more than I ever expected to have in my life. It is wonderful to be able to have far-ranging conversations on any topic that comes up, where I can wholly trust him and say what I’m thinking without needing to filter my words and thoughts. I missed that when he was lost in the fog of illness, and I am deeply grateful for the reprieve we’ve had, the time we’ve been granted together still.

We are in the autumn of our lives, where the nights grow cold but there is still warmth in the day. Neither of us had traditional careers or life-paths, but we’re at a point where we’re comfortable, have a community very close to us, and life is good. I’d never thought this would happen, and I’m deeply grateful for it. Winter is over the horizon, and I’m not going to worry too much about it, because worry isn’t good for me, and besides, right now I’m doing my best to savor every day. There may not be another. There will never be another just like it.

We have a persimmon tree. The mature tree stands over the shop, tall and fruitful, and her suckers spring up all over the backyard, where I am cultivating a couple of them to try and get fruit where I can reach it. Persimmons, at least the native ones, are an astringent fruit. You wouldn’t want to bite into an unripe one!

After the first hard frost, the fruit transforms from the puckering mouthful of hard edges that you can’t stand to eat… into a soft, sweet, nourishing thing. Persimmons need the bite of cold to become what they are meant to be. Autumn is their time to glow and become fragrant, to be sought after.

We’ve had our touch of frost, and now, we are in a sweet life. I am appreciative of where we are, for now. I know that day by day time passes, but I also know that the persimmon will feed many creatures, and in so doing, the seeds will scatter ever further from the mother tree, to grow in time into their own fruiting seasons.

I take comfort in that. Winter will be difficult. Spring comes at the end of it.