As I held my daughter today, her head resting on my lap, I traced my fingertips over her soft strawberry blonde hair. It gleamed in the light coming in from the window, and my eyes followed the sun ‘s ray. Out of the window, our silo stood tall, its shiny red bricks also shone in the sun. It was a beautiful backdrop to the leaves as they sashayed through the breeze from the trees to the ground.
I love the earth when it is red, orange, and yellow, representing earth’s final sigh of happiness. And, even though I sat inside that big, white farmhouse, I could smell the breeze. It is a smell, you see, I have smelled many times before. The air is sweet, an array of swirling smells carried by a crisp wind.
I do not remember exactly each moment I smelled these smells and saw these sights. I do remember they all included you. Your brilliant blonde hair following the path of that crisp air. You lived for autumn, as I do. You lived for that final show of beauty, for the feeling of sitting in a cozy warmth together as the world surrounded us in colors.
So many people, places, and moments in my life will comprise what I remember in old age. But you, dear mother, although taking up too short a portion of it, will be the color. The crisp air dancing through my years. The sun rays that set my world alight.
In my life, I’ll love you more.
A Country Mother's Heart 