Today as I write, it’s a beautiful Indian summer day and a
few lonely oak leaves float lazily down from their lofty perches, and settle
into the many puddles of leaves that are starting to dot my lawn. For me, they
are reminiscent of many things in my own life, but none so strong as the fact
that they are in their death spiral; their job is done, and now they rest. For
the summer months they were vibrant, full of green color, and part of a vast
family of leaves that formed the canopies of the trees that shaded my house and
rustled quietly in the summer breezes. They had a purpose—a place in nature, and a job to do—but now they are
relegated to shriveling up and returning to the very earth they came from,
their life cycle complete.
Our own lives are somewhat the same, but much more complex,
because even when we are gone our accomplishments will live on, and hopefully,
we won’t go to our end in someone’s mulch pile. We have this uncanny persona to
influence other people who will, in turn, emulate our character, and hopefully,
enrich this world and make it a better place. Each year the tree starts with
new buds, void of any kind of personality, and they only do what their
predecessors have done over and over again, until at last the tree dies and
they with it. Each leaf is its own entity and has no dependence on the others.
But in our lives, we build on the accomplishments of those who have gone before
us, and those who surround us. We don’t have to start from square one, when we
begin, because someone else has already done the work for us and left those
indelible imprints in our minds and hearts.
All the leaves of the trees perform pretty much the same
chore for their host, the tree. But our lives are so different , and a
cornucopia of different talents, abilities and aspirations, and when we blend
them together with others we have this homogenous result, forming a more
perfect union for all of us. I often think, “what would my life have been like
without my parents’ influence and their effect on my development…without my
beloved wife, who steered me in the right direction and propped me up when I
was falling, and then gave me wings to go places I never dreamed of going.” I
didn’t want to be like a leaf; I wanted to have some sort of legacy when my
life was done, and with her help and the help of others, it has come to
fruition, but history will be my judge, not I.
Sometimes at night, when I miss her the most, I think of the
words of Nat King Cole who sang so beautifully, “And now the purple dusk of twilight time, steals across the meadows
of my heart. High up in the sky the little stars climb, always reminding me
that we’re apart.” Music has always been my crutch. I have always felt
that it’s such a shame that too many of us die with most of our music still
inside of us. “Though I dream in vain.
In my heart it will remain. My stardust melody of love’s refrain.” When I think of her I don’t want to cry
because it’s over; I want to smile because it happened.
Wow! To think. All of that came from a few leaves drifting
by my window. Life is good in Mike’s meandering mind.
No comments:
Post a Comment