Yesterday morning was overcast and cool. It felt like fall had finally arrived and as I turned on the lamp to cheer up the place, I was suddenly hit with a strong memory.
I could feel myself back in my childhood home. It was fall and my mother was turning on the lamps in our living room.
I felt her presence so strongly and it was comforting.
This time of year always seems to bring on waves of nostalgia.
I see a basket of apples and I am transported back to picking apples with my daddy from our backyard trees. It was always cold, my nose would be runny, and frankly I hated it. Now I would give anything for one of those days.
The part I did like was that I knew my mother would be baking delicious pies from those apples. She was a wonderful baker.
When we are young we think that we will never grow up and be on our own, but life speeds by and before we know it we have grown much older. We have traveled down the path of life and with the wisdom of age we realize that all of the little moments in life are what we will hold onto in our memories.
So yesterday as I waited for the sun to come out I listened to some of my parent's old records and I gave myself up to remembering.