~and life goes on~

     October is taking no time at all in passing by us as autumn leaves begin to turn colors and fall quietly to the ground. The weather is getting slightly cooler here in our part of this world, a gentle reminder to us that sooner or later we will begin to see these beautiful days come to a close.  

     It might not seem like it right now, but one thing is true.  Winter will not be all that far behind.

     I love autumn and perhaps it is because in the seasons of our human lives, this nearly 61-year old woman finds herself in it.  I no longer am in my sweet spring or  joyous summer.  Those days are long gone and now just a memory tucked away deep in my heart.  They were good times for the most part with only a scattering of days that brought sadness or remorse to me.  I figure I've been in autumn for more than a day or two and sooner or later, even I shall see the winter time coming.

     I'm not sure if I am ready or not.
     I hope to be.

     Nearly 4 years ago, I made the decision to drive over 600 miles from my home in south central Kansas to a place I had never heard of before.  Montrose, Colorado was just a spot on the map and where this boy I once knew of from "the land of long ago and far, far away" was living.  We had connected online, never imagining that the other person was even around.  In the middle of the night and in the dead of winter, I made the journey to meet the man who would soon become my husband.  People thought I was crazy to traverse over 12,000 feet high Monarch Mountain alone in ice and snow.  I believe they were right.  

     I was crazy.

     The other day, as often times we do, Mike and I looked at one another.  We marveled at the fact that in our late years of life, the good Lord above decided that we should meet.  It was crazy to think that it worked out the way it did.  It hasn't always been easy and I'd be lying if I told you that it was.  Especially in the early weeks and months, it was very hard. I would have thrown in the towel numerous times because of such extreme homesickness and loneliness for the only life I ever knew, the one that I left behind in Kansas.  Thankfully, I stuck it out and now in just a couple of months more, Mike and I will celebrate the 4th anniversary of that first long trip of many from Kansas to Colorado.

     We are still married.  

     I read the words that a friend from back home in Kansas wrote when he said that he felt like he was "racing towards the end of life".  I too feel the very same way sometimes.  The first 61 years seem to have flown by with little consideration for how fast the time was going.  I doubt the remaining ones will go by any slower.  

     One thing I take solace in.
     I no longer have to go through them alone.

     Sometimes Mike and I fall asleep in our recliners while we are watching the 5 o'clock news.  Every once in a while, one of us has to help the other with some issue of changing health.  We laugh at ourselves as we determine which one has forgotten the most that day.  We sometimes shed a tear or two in sadness at a movie we watch on television that depicts our own demise some day.  We are growing older together and following the plan that we made when we first left our mountain home and landed upon the plains of northern Texas.  We decided that no matter what happened, one thing would remain for sure.

     We would hold hands and stick together.  
     That plan hasn't failed us yet.
     

In March of 2013, Mike tried to teach me this game called Cribbage.  He thought it was wonderful, but I wasn't too crazy about it.  I stuck with it though.  We learned to have fun doing things that didn't cost much money to do.

We liked to build fires in the fire pit back in Montrose, especially on crisp and chilly autumn evenings.

Our first date was a day trip to the Black Canyon of the Gunnison, a place that we visited often while we lived there in Colorado.

We married one another underneath a basketball goal in the gymnasium of the elementary school that I taught at in Kansas.  Our witnesses were about 200 or so of the sweetest children, friends and family who stood with us that day back in May of 2013.

And life goes on.