Here in New England, autumn was beautiful. The mild temperatures and the rainfall throughout the year meant that the leaves changed slowly and stuck around a lot longer than usual. They were especially vibrant, too. Today though, it’s twenty degrees Fahrenheit, and I wonder where the autumn weather went. I just transplanted a shrub last week and plan to still get my bulbs in. It’s gonna be a race now to beat the hardening of the soil.
When people complain about change, I always chime in to say that I love it. -@CricketMacD Share on XWhen people complain about change, I always chime in to say that I love it. Moving, new job, or a new role, it’s all exciting and full of possibilities. But there’s one sort of change I’m having trouble with. It’s that passage of time thing. First, I hit a milestone birthday this month. I do not love it. I didn’t mind thirty, and I loved forty, but fifty is not my friend. Maybe I’ll grow to enjoy this decade as much as I did my forties, I don’t know. Right now I just feel old.
But there's one sort of change I'm having trouble with. It's that passage of time thing. -@CricketMacD Share on XThe picture below is one reason this kind of change is not my favorite. That is my first-born son having his senior photo taken. My tiny baby boy is now eighteen and six foot one. He’s officially a man and will, in a matter of months, be leaving the house and going to college. Reader, I am not ready. Mind you, I worked hard to get him here. It’s partly my fault he’s eager and prepared to leave the house forever and strike out on his own. I would probably be disappointed if he didn’t have a plan that included abandoning us all and starting his own life miles and miles away. Okay, I’m laying it on thick, but this moment, right here, is where I started to feel it—the loss.
November naturally brings losses for those of us who garden. Annuals that have been the stars of the border or the patio pot are hit by frost and turned into blackened shells of themselves. Below is a picture of the cosmos that started late and grew ridiculously high, but held off blooming until the end of September. It then went on and on. I took this pic on my birthday and the second one just a day later.
Talk about a quick change. I had been so pleased to have flowers on my birthday that weren’t chrysanthemums. It was amazing they held on as long as they did so I couldn’t get that upset about the frost getting them. With change comes loss. Sometimes the loss is small, even insignificant, and other times it’s life-altering. My son soon leaving for college feels like a loss even though it’s a very good thing. We’re close so I know next autumn I’m going to feel his absence like a wound. I know I shouldn’t, but hearts aren’t rational things.
With change comes loss. Sometimes the loss is small, even insignificant, and other times it’s life-altering. -@CricketMacD Share on XTonight, as I write this, I received an email from my son’s school to remind him and (and us, his parents) of upcoming cap and gown fitting sessions. The timing is a bit cruel, hitting me when I’m down. On that day in May, I plan to cheer when I see him in that graduation regalia, not sob. He will have earned that walk across the stage and I will be proud. But I know I’ll feel it – the loss. It sounds trite, but it seems only yesterday I held him in my arms, looked down at his newborn-face and prayed that I would not make of mess of motherhood. That day represents one of the best changes of my life.
Christa MacDonald is a 2017 Carol Award finalist for contemporary Christian fiction. She began her writing career at the age of eleven, filling a sketchbook with poems and short stories. After publishing a few short pieces in her college’s literary magazine she took a long hiatus during which she embarked on a few different careers, got married, had three kids, and renovated an old barn masquerading as a house. The Broken Trail, published by Mountain Brook Ink, was her debut novel. Her second novel, At The Crossroad, released in October, 2017.
When not working or writing Christa can be found ferrying her kids around, reading, or attempting something crafty. She and her family live along the coast of New England.
It’s redemption that he needs, and she’ll pay any price to help him find it.
As the new game warden in Sweet River, Alex Moretti is focused on enforcing Maine’s wildlife laws and little else. Moving from tragedy to a fresh start, all he wants is a way to fix his life in the tranquility of the north woods. Until he meets Annie Caldwell at Coffee by the Book. But his own bitter, dark life is a threat to Annie’s sweetness and light. It’s better for him to stay away.
Annie doesn’t know how to label her relationship with Alex, but she is determined to figure it out. After a few false starts and a kiss under the Christmas lights, their romance goes from fiction to fact. Annie has fallen hard. Then trouble shows up. Someone is stalking Alex, seeking to punish him for a mistake which ended in deadly consequences. When Annie becomes a target, he tries to push her away, but she won’t abandon him. Alex is desperate to keep Annie safe while he attempts to reconcile the past, but what he really needs is redemption. And she will risk her life to help him find it.
