It was a typical October day in Tennessee, a time when nature transforms the landscape into a breathtaking display of gold, red, and orange. While sitting on my grandmother’s (also known as Grandpa‘s) porch with my mother and her, we watched the leaves drift down onto the faded green lawn below.
“I don’t like autumn!” Grandpa suddenly declared. I don’t know many things that my saintly grandmother didn’t like, but two of them were pizza and women’s pants. “Shoot, who wants to dress like a man?”
Chef Boyardee once made her sick, and she swore off pizza for the rest of her life. I’m sure she just had a virus, but I suppose I’ll let that one go. I thought she was going to faint when Mama wore silk pants and a gorgeous top for my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary!
“Grandpa, why in the world do you not like the beauty of fall? We are in Tennessee, and people come from miles to see the spectacle of color happening in the hills.
Mama sat quietly rocking on the porch in her faded jeans. So, between the leaves and the pants, Grandpa looked quite miffed.
“Well, shoot, the fall reminds me of death. Spring is a beautiful time when nature renews itself. The summer delivers the garden to the table, and the winter brings Santa. And that’s why I don’t particularly like autumn or those jeans you are wearing, Elizabeth!”
My mouth fell open as Mama started laughing and finally stated, “Mama, I think you woke up on the wrong side of the bed this October morning! Do you want me to call Chef Boyardee to cheer you up?”
We began howling so hard that the trees shook more, causing a few leaves to land on the porch near Grandpa’s feet. I swear, I believe God did that on purpose.
Every person who wakes up to a new dawn should be thankful for the opportunity to revitalize themselves. We are no different than the trees …. We grow older, we change, we can fall, but we are given the chance to again, stand tall.
After we settled back down, I said to my lovely grandmother, “Grandpa, you can’t have the spring without the fall, right? Now, maybe in Florida or places where God didn’t bless them with changing seasons, you can.”
“Oh, Florida is too hot! I couldn’t live there!” she retorted.
Mama chimed in, “But Mama, at least you wouldn’t see many women in long pants!”
Laughter once again shook the trees.
I quickly added, “How ’bout Southern California?” The weather stays the same all year, right?
“Well, shoot, that’s too far away! Plus, they got earthquakes!” she answered.
“Yes, and Santa would be driving a T-Bird convertible instead of a sleigh on Christmas, right? I know how you love snow, so California is out,” I stated.
On that beautiful October day, we may have changed her mind a bit about the Tennessee fall, but certainly never got her to try a pizza, nor put on slacks. God forbid.
Every year, as I watch the leaves fall, I recall that day. It’s one of those times when I laugh at the memory and cry for the loss of the two women I adored. Autumn doesn’t remind me of death; instead, I know that without it, there would be no spring in the Southland.
I am incredibly grateful for having made it through many seasons of my life. Some were more difficult than others, but when I fell, like autumn’s leaves, I was reborn by God’s mercy. I moved forward with determination so that I can share the little I have learned about life with others.
Every person who wakes up to a new dawn should be thankful for the opportunity to revitalize themselves. We are no different than the trees …. We grow older, we change, we can fall, but we are given the chance to again, stand tall. We can laugh at ourselves and embrace love.
Even though I mourn the loss of the women on the porch, they taught me a great deal about what is truly important in life. I am forever grateful that God blessed me to be a part of their existence.
Yes, Grandpa did not like pizza, women’s pants, or fall, but I know of nothing else she didn’t like. How can someone live to be ninety-seven with so little malice?
The answer lies in the fact that neither of them ever held onto anger. They may have endured days of scorn, but that negativity quickly faded and was forgotten. There was no social media to amplify resentment, no cell phones to rapidly share it with friends, and honestly, they had no need for it.
Their humor and intelligence triumphed over revenge, and love prevailed over hate.
I also believe that Grandpa and Mom are together in heaven, surrounded by green grass, golden hills, and laughter. It is their perfect season.
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Lynn Walker Gendusa is a Tennessee-raised, Georgia-residing author and columnist. Her latest book is “Southern Comfort: Stories of Family, Friendship, Fiery Trials, and Faith.” She can be reached at www.lynngendusa.com. For more of her inspirational stories, click here.
