C’mon man. You say these things always start with a sentence – just one simple sentence. So write it down already, and get this damned post out, and off your chest.


Here goes…

November is wrapping itself around me like some sort of chilled cocoon, and while I can’t properly express it, I feel as if I must let you know of my experience. Each and every time I walk out to be met with the solidity of the season, I feel as if the air, pressing crisply up against me, almost seems to be saying, “It’s time to wake up.” The cold, reaching deep down within my lungs, seems to be saying, “It’s finally over. All of it, over.”

The world around me is once again dying for another year. While there is little difference to my outward surroundings from years past, there is a noticeable difference from within – a grand upheaval of sorts. It is over. I can feel it, know it. 2012 is slowly passing, and I know that all the pain, anger, loss and bitterness that it bore into my life, must go now as well.

But that’s not right. Well, it’s not what I wanted to say. No, this feeling I have is much more primal. This feeling, when the cold air first kisses my cheek, is almost a call from – well – from the dawn of creation or something… Listen, I’m trying hard to not use “religious” overtones, as I don’t want you to think that this experience is unique or exclusive to only one faith. But as I am who I am, I have to use the example I believe to be the correct one. So I suppose what I’m really trying to say, is that this year the frigid air seems to be Jesus’ way of whispering to my soul, “You made it through the storm. I’ve got you now, and tomorrow will be better. ‘I have made all things new.’ I wasn’t lying when I said that, you know. And now it’s your turn pally.”

Now it’s my turn.

Sounds stupid right? I know, but that is the feeling I keep getting this Fall. That it’s my turn. That He’s going to somehow reach deep inside of me, pummel my wayward heart, scrub me down from the stains of my ignorance and small thinking, cleanse me of all the bullshit baggage that I’ve been lugging around for the past year or so, and take me to a better place. I feel so bad speaking like this, knowing that one of my dearest blogging buddies is going through exactly the opposite experience during this time of year. But I feel as if I’ve been somehow commissioned to get these words out, to express to you all this whatever-it is that I’m undergoing just now. I feel as if it is not unique to me, and others could jump in as well  – into this indulgence of being stripped down, washed away and made anew.

The boy who lives with us now has been through more in his short four years than I have most likely had to endure in my forty three, and when he has a “bad” day, I use the same schpeel on him that I did my three so long ago. After all the apologies have been made, and all the tears dried, while kissing him goodnight, I’ll ask, “Hey, is tomorrow a new day?” The answer isn’t always quick in coming, but it is always “Yes.”  And as with my three, while resting my hand on his heart (I don’t know why, I just always have) my final thought to him then before the lights go out and I leave the room is always, “Well then, let’s make it a good one, OK?”

Listen, I know that this post is coming out all wrong, and not nearly as succinct or descriptive as I would like it to be in expressing how I feel right now – like an exposed nerve ready to be bandaged, or like a drought, just minutes before the deluge. But I suppose what I’m failing so miserably at describing to you is that this year, this time, this now, Jesus (or the deity/non-deity of your choice) is telling me – and apparently telling me to tell you – that tomorrow will be coming soon, and Tomorrow will be a new day.

Tomorrow will be a new day.

I, for one, can’t wait.


God bless you my friends until then.

16 thoughts on “Autumn

  1. i don’t share your relationship with Jesus, but i do share the optimism expressed here. tomorrow IS another day, another chance. i’m so glad that little boy has you to point it out. *placing a virtual hand over your heart*

  2. I like the view you painted, though I have my own way of seeing this time of year. It is a time of great change in the air, the sights, the sounds, etc… It seems to quiet down the world outside, and lets the one within me gather once more, in preparation for the next.

    As for tomorrow… well it never really gets here, so I will continue to do my best with today.

    • Much thanks, k~ I love when you come around here =)

      And you’re right, this time of year usually does that for me as well. But this year in particular, and for some reason, there is a niggling voice telling me that in addition to preparing, I should be readying myself for some sort of grand party to come.

      I could all be a ruse of my own inventing, but I’m normally not the type to be optimistically minded like that.

  3. Beautiful, t. I get a sense of the dad taking the kid, after a really really rough day, sticking him in the bathtub, soaking off all the dirt and tears, scrubbing his back and washing his hair; then drying him off in a giant fluffy bath towel, putting on his warm pyjamas, wrapping him in a soft woolen rug, carrying him to the fireplace, and putting him on his lap in the big rocking chair – and then rocking, and singing, as night falls over the country. And the little boy sleeps. Tomorrow is another day.
    Thank you for this.

  4. Dear friend, nothing in this post came out ‘wrong’. Only in your view…to me, it’s perfect, and a shining example of why you are an excellent father and human being. I’d like to join the queue to be scrubbed down and enter into 2013 with new hope…or at least less animosity towards certain people I shouldn’t hate, but somehow find it difficult to have contact with.

    Take care, and have a good weekend!


  5. t I do believe you love to make me cry. Tomorrow is another day my dear. All we can do is plan to make it good. You are good soul. Stop beating yourself up. I commend you on your good heart. I do.

  6. Boy oh boy t, I sure needed your posting today! I’ve needed it all week if I was perfectly honest! I’ve been struggling trying to figure stuff out and thank you so much for your post! Your timing could not have been more perfect….Lets make it a good one! YES!

  7. Rock ON, t! We are well past those first kisses of autumn, up here in the great white north. We got about a foot of snow in two days, temperatures are around the -20ºC mark, and leaves frozen black on the boulevard elms spell What The Fuck in dripping Gothic cursive. (Okay, maybe I’m imagining that last part.) Anyway, my point is, renewal is coming, whether we’re ready or not. The earth will turn inexorably away from the sun and its old cleansing light will be new to us again in the morning morning. Like your prophet, and my spirit, and the pressure of a warm soft hand over heart, we can cover our eyes and deny it for as long as we want or need. But the Light will be there, tomorrow, when we’re ready :-)

  8. I’ve prayed so much today that Jesus is probably sick of me. Your post is something I needed. I losy my aunt today to cancer. I’ve listened ot six different versions of bob dylan’s death is not the end. I think that’s what we should remember.

    beautiful post

  9. I love the imagery of personal renewal with the renewal of each day.
    I can just see you {even though I’ve never ‘seen’ you} with your hand on the young man’s heart. What a lovely and loving image.

    I hope your grand party comes for you.

  10. “This feeling, when the cold air first kisses my cheek, is almost a call from – well – from the dawn of creation or something…”

    Your closed windows will be stuffed
    with honeycombs of Light
    the air in my lungs will not be as cold
    as the autumn outside
    yet it will kiss your cheek
    flowing down to settle
    deep in your soul,
    while the dawn rising upon your sleeping face
    will be the same dawn
    from the first day
    when God created US.

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