Autumn Memories

Autumn brings so many memories and images of past events, places, and people. The colors of the trees and plants, the smells and fragrances of this unique season, and the play of light and darkness are stimulants for remembering.

I know that when you see me today, you may not realize that I was quite athletic in my youth. I know! Fall is football season and I loved to play. I was fast and had a strong throwing arm. Quarterback was my natural position on offense and defensive back on defense. In high school, after injuries in my freshman and sophomore years, I became the starting quarterback. As seniors we went to the playoffs with a 10-0 record only to lose in the first round by a narrow margin. Good memories.

And autumn is also the season of dying. The colors and smells I mentioned above also signal death and dormancy. The beauty of the season is partly the result of things changing and dying. Leaf and plant decay releases odor that can be both sweet and pungent. We often help plants in this process by pruning them and removing the dead parts. Such facilitation is like offering a vigil to the dead. We prepare them for death or sleep in the hopes that we will see them again in “another life.”

The beginning of October can be a melancholic time for me as I remember the death of my mother on October 5, 1986. She was just 50 years old at her death and had been diagnosed with cancer when she was just 45. Those 5 years were very difficult for her and our family. Still, there were many cherished moments and periods when she experienced reprieves from tumors, surgeries, radiation, and chemotherapy.

I was 22 years old and finishing university studies when she died. I frequently think of my younger siblings living at home during mom’s illness. What they endured! When Mom died the youngest five siblings were 17, 15, 14, 12, and 6. Take five years from each of those ages and that was their age when she was first diagnosed. Each of us had different experiences of grief, depending on our age, maturity, and how involved we had been in her care during those years. I learned a great deal about suffering and grief during those years about which I think as I minister to people today.

May plants, bushes, and trees return to full life next spring, and may all of us rise to the joy of eternal life one day!

Peace, Fr. Andy