The Leaves Do Fall…

MON., OCT. 30, 1995, 7:23 AM
FARM, STUDY

The view from this window is now one of mostly yellow and gold, for it is the season of falling leaves… leaves that have changed from a standard green to many shades of yellow to brown. And then they fall. The green grass is covered. The season of growth is over. You shall soon see the sky through the bare limbs of the trees. You are in the midst of autumn.

The convention time was good, but it feels more right to be home again, and today you make a new list and move rather fully back into normal activity. You will miss three of your classes this week, and that is both a disappointment and a relief. You should be able to catch up during this break time and be ready for the final stretch. The slowing down that you’re experiencing makes the full responsibilities of teaching more stressful, but, then, you know you will miss this part of your life when classes and students aren’t yours to enjoy anymore. Consider some modifications in the assignments, even next semester.

This allergic condition that you’re experiencing is a nuisance, but any imperfection such as this should serve to make you more appreciative of the good health that you generally enjoy. You hear of those with real disabilities and those suffering as they approach the end of life, and such should motivate you to appreciation, for your troubles are truly minor and merely vexing.

The note to Easy should be a priority. A Ruminations focused on Chris, an amalgam of My observations and yours, could be quite worthwhile, another memorial to a marvelous spirit, now very much with Me. She approves. Now We all three must “work on” Easy. His spirit should be accepting of such a tribute.

As you look ahead to this season of falling leaves you know that I want you to write and send out a pre-Christmas letter this year. It shouldn’t be an onerous task. You haven’t sent one for two years, and there are many who would like to know about your family life. You needn’t be lengthy in your reporting of this continuing, productive relationship with Me, but it must be mentioned, with some explanation, particularly as you look forward to retirement. And, who knows, it may bring forth responses from some you don’t expect.

You have neglected your parents, in contrast to those years in which you were faithful with a letter a month. You needn’t be that regular and often, but, though their lives are nearly over, your Dad, especially, would like to hear from you. I know, and you know, that this can become another pressure, but it is a gesture of love and appreciation. It may mean more to them than you think. Their “leaves have almost all fallen”, but they still have some life and some remembrances.

When you do think of many other people who should be hearing from you you feel both the desire and the frustration. Will you go, eventually, to e-mail? You had no such address, as you were among your younger colleagues on the departure day. This is a possibility, but wait for my advice on this, when the time is right.