Remembering past falls

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I took a nice, long, overdue walk through Central Park Sunday morning. The yellow leaves were falling from the trees and being swept away by the wind. It was cloudy and drizzling just a tad-enough to make you want to cuddle under the covers and eat some sort of carbohydrate made with pumpkin. I love this time of year.

Fall has become a rather sentimental period for me. The colors, the changes, that crispness in the air...I find myself continually taken back to this time two years ago. It reminds me of packing up my apartment and selling my reupholstered green wingback chair that I had once imagined my future children sitting in. It reminds me of hugging my ex-husband goodbye after signing the last of the divorce papers.  He wanted to remain friends, but I knew deep down it was the last time I would ever see him. It reminds me of sitting down to dinner with my parents and sister, who graciously let me move back into my childhood home for a year. It reminds me of spending Thanksgiving in Cancun with my mom, aunt and uncle. My aunt had insisted that I join her on her annual Mexico vacation after she found out about the divorce. We laughed so much during that trip. I still remember my mom and I giggling in the airport security line at the TSA agent who was more like a drill sergeant. It reminds me of flipping through vocab. flash cards in my cubicle at work as I studied for the GRE and imagined a future in New York. It reminds me of going to my friend's wedding in Utah. I hadn't told any of my friends about the divorce at that point as I didn't want to put a damper on the day. I remember driving my rental car to the wedding location and giving myself a pep talk. "If you can hold it together for the wedding," I told myself, "then you can cry as much as you need to tonight when you're back in the hotel room." It reminds me of the overwhelming amount of love and support that I was shown by so many people during that fall season. I tear up just thinking about it.

Oddly, I miss that fall so much. There is an amazing sense of clarity that comes in challenging times. I knew exactly what mattered and didn't care much to spend my energy on anything that didn't. I have tried so hard to hold on to that clarity, but I find it often gets muddled. To be honest, that really terrifies me. Here's to continually being grateful for our hard times, for grasping on to a clear perspective, recognizing what really matters and not spending energy on anything that doesn't.

1 comment

  1. Hi, Amy.

    I believe you wrote the Today show web article about the heart-warming letter that the Barrowfield students received about test scores. It would be great if you could somehow arrange to credit Mary Ginley, the retired Longmeadow, Massachusetts teacher who wrote the original fifteen years ago.

    If you click on the link below, you will see a newspaper photo of her 1999 letter to the editor. The letter has morphed a bit over its 15 years on the Internet, but the Barrowfield letter is clearly a variation.

    I've never met Mrs. Ginley; but she's famous in our family as the dearly beloved elementary school teacher of my two nieces, one of whom is now an education major. (Her admissions essay described the incredible learning environment Mrs. Ginley created in her second grade classroom.)

    As you can see from her post on my sister's Facebook page, Mrs. Ginley, who was the 1998 Massachusetts teacher of the year, is philosophical about the fact that she isn't getting credit for the letter: "Listen, this letter took on a life of its own shortly after it was published. Sometimes I get credit; sometimes I don't. I've learned to live with it. Would have been fun, though, if the Today Show had known I wrote it..."

    It would be great if this amazing woman could get credit for brightening the lives of so many children and families.

    Thanks,
    Jessica Holland

    https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10152647046516579set=a.10150407480041579.420141.616456578&type=1

    https://www.doe.mass.edu/educators/recognition/toy/past.html

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