I grew up in a home that was always dressed appropriately for each season, even obscure holidays, such as Columbus Day or Presidents’ Day. My Mom loved to decorate! When I got old enough, I would decorate my bedroom, but usually only for the big stuff like Halloween, Christmas and Easter. Once I moved out on my own, I would decorate all of my home, be it apartment, condo or house. I still do.
For the most part, my kids appreciated the decorations, especially Kendall and Abby. I tell myself that it mattered/matters to Alex, although he usually tells me he doesn’t care. On a good day he tells me that it matters to him because it matters to me. 😉 Gaylon loves the decorations, and enjoys helping me and Abby put them out. Except for Christmas lights. But that’s probably another post, entirely, LOL!
I always feel vaguely nostalgic when Autumn rolls around, but moving to Texas has made me miss the woods and the color so much it hurts, sometimes. There is really nothing in the world that can compare to North Carolina in the Fall, and lately I’ve been feeling really homesick. It happens every year, I shouldn’t be surprised. So, I decorate. I set out all the little scarecrows and pilgrims and pumpkins. My mother bought most of them, because Autumn was her favorite season. And so this year is particularly difficult, but Abby and I felt it was important to decorate anyway. It’s the first time she has not been her to help, but it almost feels like she is here, enjoying it with us. And I can almost smell her pumpkin bread in the oven. Almost.
I sometimes look for things on Pinterest and can usually duplicate what I find pretty well. But what I cannot seem to recreate is a house full of people. All the lovely decorations in the world won’t create the illusion that our family is all still living here. If I close my eyes really tight, I can sort of almost imagine that the boys are upstairs in their bedrooms, and I can hear the music coming from Kendall’s room. Abby is outside in the woods, playing with Anamarie. They’re laughing and calling to each other as they jump into the piles of leaves they’ve created, in the shadows. I can almost imagine that we still have six cats and four dogs, and that the leaves outside are all fiery red, yellow and orange, and I just almost smell the smoke from the chimneys all through the hollers. Almost.