My mind turned a somersault when three different friends talked about their grandchildren. One is in her 70s and has four grands 14 and under, another is 80 and has two pre-schoolers, and another in her early 70s with boy grands still at home. Blows my mind when I think of our six young adult grands, knowing that neither Byron and I , nor our own children, started families early. We were all out of college and fairly settled. And so it brings me to the seasons of life, a journey that differs for all of us for many reasons. But the seasons don’t vary : spring, summer, fall, and winter.
But of interest, also, are those of us who are in one season, but mentally and emotionally, live in another———often the past, but sometimes the future.
The sad ones are the ones who can’t let go, who re-live the moments of glory that have come and gone. It’s emotionally unhealthy, unrealistic, and presents as a loss. Today is what is; yesterday is gone, no matter how hard we try to bring it back.
I see this with athletes who, in their prime, excited their fans and followers, exuded talent and perseverance, and relished the opportunity to excel. Nothing wrong with that. In their prime. What is tragic is the inability of some to move forward, to appreciate the memories, but enjoy the season of the present. Leaving spring and summer behind may be hard, but it is what life is all about.
Others who sometimes stay stuck in one season of life are contest winners, public figures, politicians, homecoming queens , cheerleaders, and others who were accomplished in a particular arena and can’t seem to let go. Summer is not forever, nor should it be.
My spring is clearly defined, even expressed anecdotally in my book, IT WAS WHAT IT WAS. Growing up in small-town South in the 40s and 50s was the best, the very best. Living was easy, patriotism was at a peak following WWII, money was flowing, churches were filled, schools were localized, neighbors were actually neighborly, entertainment was front-porch visiting, and everybody knew everybody. It was a time of peace, love, and togetherness. I was blessed.
My summer was young married life, shared with my high school sweetheart. College behind for me, ahead for him. Buying our first house in Winder, teaching senior English at Winder-Barrow High School, giving birth to our first child( a baby boy) , moving to Danville, Ky., blessed with our new-born daughter ( our Kentucky babe ), back to Winder, on to Birmingham ( Mountain Brook ) and facing all the unknowns and obstacles that relationships can bring. It was a time of adjustment, resiliency, and direction-changing. I was blessed.
My fall was coming home to Lavonia with a husband and two children. Quite different from when I left ! And Lavonia was different , too, in many ways, some good and some not so good. It was growing and feeling the growing pains. Businesses were coming and going. Textiles no longer ruled. Saturdays downtown were no longer filled. Staples such as locally owned small department stores were gone. I-85 introduced a strip on Hwy. 17 and Lake Hartwell brought strangers into our midst. I was appointed to the Franklin County School Board as the first woman and later became the first ( and only to date ) female principal at Franklin County High School. Our children found their wings and left their roots behind. It was a time of challenge, nostalgia, and excitement. I was blessed.
And now it’s winter, and I am at peace. I have my Byron, my four children ( two by other mothers ), my six grands plus four , my home in the woods, my Gracie, my three or four very dear and much loved friends ( you know who you are ), my bridge friends, my church, and my memories. It has been a long and sometimes disappointing journey, but the joys and celebrations far outweigh the negatives. And I have no regrets. It is a time of contentment, reflection, and happiness. I am blessed.
Life is about the journey and not the destination. It begins and ends, and nothing can change that. Each season brings its own light and darkness. If you’re lucky, the good will always trump the bad. And you can say, if you’re lucky , in the spring, summer, fall, and winter of your life, ” I am blessed “.
Lovely, as always
Denton posted this is the cabin at least 25 years ago. It is still there.
Attitude Charles SWIndoll
The longer I live, the more I .reaoze the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts.
It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than faflures, than successes, than
what other people think or say or do It is more Important than appearance, giftedness or skill.
It will make or break a company:achurch…a home. The remarkable thing is, we have a choice every day,
regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change the inevitable.
The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude.
I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% howlreacttolt.
And so it is with you…we are in charge of our attitudes.
Charles Swindoll
Thank you for sharing, Ruth. Denton was very special, gentle and kind. We enjoyed knowing him.
Beautiful Diane. A candid look at a life well lived. Now to ponder my seasons.
Most enjoyable and inspiring read! I also enjoyed Dr.O’Dell’s comment! All so very true! I am blessed……
I suppose, as most of us approach the twilight of our lives, there is a compulsion to summarize and evaluate the meaning and purpose of that life.
Those of us who are familiar with Diane’s many postings on this blog would agree that she has arrived at a very positive and comfortable conclusion about hers. Moreover, she has the talent and intellect to express her thoughts in beautiful prose. I always look forward to her publications.
I have always been fascinated with the pursuit of knowledge and mankind’s effort to understanding our existence. In that context, I submit the following observations as food for thought:
Some would argue that fate is a very fickle friend, and that good fortune is simply the luck of the draw.
Others, would suggest that life is but a dream–from nothing, to nothing.
I am reminded of some famous lines from a soliloquy in Shakespeare’s Macbeth:
Tomorrow. and tomorrow, and tomorrow.
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day.
To the last syllable of recorded time.
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle.
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage.
And is heard no more. it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury.
Signifying nothing.
Have some fun every day!
I appreciate your kind words——–and always love your contemplative thoughts and feelings. Do wish you would develop your own blog. You have much to offer. And this old English teacher loves your Shakespeare touch…………..
Thank you for sharing this. I moved back Winder, in my winter, too. Reflecting on the old Winder I remember and all the things I’ve experienced in life – having birthed no children due to cancer, but raising a stepdaughter, living in the Middle East, traveling extensively, and now back to my roots but missing my family and friends I’ve lost, but overall feeling blessed. I love reading your blogs.