September
Birthdays: Andrea turned seven, Robby turned five
There is a new puppy in their family. His name is 'Thor', which was Robby's in-utero name before we knew he was a boy... "Thor-ina" : )
The puppy is adorable and doing well in a home where his greatest danger is being loved to death!
September is also the month where the sky looks like this:
...and we begin to think of winter. We had our first frost of the year on the first day of October. The leaves are beginning to change, and if it does not become too windy and wet, I suspect that it will be a marvellous year for fall color.
It is also a time when I begin to think of 'time too short, and running fast'.
I told a friend recently that when I look in the mirror I can see every minute of these past few very difficult years on my face, and especially the marks of these most recent thirteen or fourteen months. I think that I am beginning to try to come to terms with my own mortality, and I am not liking it much, I fear.
I guess we all reach a point where we must face our life's accomplishments, or the lack thereof. I had thought, by this time, that I would have 'made a difference' in this world, but I don't know that I have, or, if I have, that it is a positive difference.
There is much that bothers me, and I have many regrets. I have always believed that every person is obligated to do something to justify their presence on the planet, and am unsure that I have done my part. Perhaps we don't know what our impact has been, and only those we leave behind us will see it.
So often, I meet someone who knew my mother and it warms my heart to hear their comments about her. She was a dear soul, always ready to give more than her share, always there to help a friend. She was deeply loved by so many! I hope that those who loved her told her so, often, and while she was still alive, but fear that that was not the case, as we do not do these things nearly enough.
On a different but somewhat connected note, I had something happen the other day that made me smile...I was at work in my store, and a man and woman walked up to the counter. The woman looked closely into my face and asked where I was from, as she was certain that she knew me. We conversed for several minutes, sharing life information and details. Her face was familiar, but I could not dredge up from my memory the details of our connection, and nor could she.
Then she asked, "Did you ever work at Concord Mall?" and I knew then how she knew me. We worked together thirty-two years ago in a Montgomery Wards store, she in Appliances, and I in Paint and Hardware. We had only seen one another once or twice in the intervening time, and the last encounter was decades ago.
She recognized my voice, before she even saw my face.
This has happened twice now, in less than two years. I never thought that my voice was particularly distinctive, but apparently it is so.
We cannot know the impact we have made in our lives. Let us try to remember, and measure our words and actions against those who witness them.