Autumn’s Memory

Posted on October 7, 2008 12:00 AM MST by Tiffany Kinerson

I picked a leaf off the pathway and held it up for my boys.

Joseph sat in the right side of the double stroller, his torso fat from an olive jacket lined with polyester sheepskin. He pointed at the leaf. “It’s wed.”

I nodded my head. Then I held it up into the sunlight, studying the three prongs of the maple leaf. A little girl’s laughter, like a ghost, skipped through my mind. I frowned, looked back at the stroller full of toddler boys. This was a teachable moment, as they’d called it in school. And as I’d told myself many times, it was also the reason I stayed home with my boys. “Yes, it is. It’s also green and yellow and orange.” 

Matthew, on the left, shook his head. The tassel on top of his stocking cap bobbed up and down. “It’s wed.”

“Ok, it’s red.” He’s always been on big brother’s side.

I looked at the sidewalk littered with leaves. Golds and rusts, browns and reds lined the path like a formal introduction to the playground. Like Autumn’s welcome mat. “Do you want to collect some of ’em?”

Two little heads nodded from their stroller seats. I unbuckled them and they stood up behind the crash bar. Then they wiggled their little bottoms until they had both maneuvered themselves onto the walk beside me.

Matthew’s tassel–he called it his ponytail–danced on top of his head as he bent and raised leaf after crunchy brown leaf.

The magic laughter flitted again. Oh, what I wouldn’t do to capture it. I grabbed his hand when he handed me his next one. “Why don’t you pick the colorful ones, buddy? I have an idea for them if you can find ’em.”

Matthew bent back down, dug beneath the top layer, and came up with a brown oak leaf, lacy from the rot that had consumed it in the Northwest chill. He handed it to me. “It’s wed.”

“Thank you.” I brushed mud off his leaf, felt bits of its skin flutter to the ground. Okay, so maybe he’s two.

And maybe my memories were mine to capture. I bent to pick up another maple. Three colors on a single leaf. Just like the three faces that belonged to me…. Two brilliant in green and gold and red, one faded from yellow to brown. 

Joseph brought me two small, red leaves with crusts of brown around the edges. “It’s wed.”

“It is. Thank you.” Before we finished, there was a stash of leaves enough to get us through winter. As long as we preserved them just right. I piled the boys back into the stroller. “Ok, boys, say bye-bye to the park.”

“Bye, pahk.”

“Hold wed.”

I gave Matthew his brown leaf. It flaked into his lap and he smiled. Within minutes we made our way home. Then we gathered wax paper and an iron. Three almond-shaped pinkish-red leaves lay in a trident formation on the paper. “Why are these leaves colored, Joseph?” Another teachable moment.

“Because it’s Fall.” He stopped, a thought creased his forehead. “Momma, on Pooh Bear he said, ‘It’s autumn…?’” His was a perfect three-year-old rendition of the stuffed full of fluff bear ringing in the season.

A tug from my other pant leg. “Watch Pooh Beah.”

His eyes were wide blue and his lips as red as the leaf on waxed paper. “No, Matthew, we can’t watch a movie, now. We’re doing a project.” I glanced back at Joseph. “You’re right, buddy. It is autumn.” I ironed the wax paper on top of the leaves for a moment. Then I set the iron upright and looked at the wall. “Did you know you had a sister, once, named Autumn?”

“I have a brother named Matthew.”

“You do.” I looked down at my brown-haired son, his long eyelashes brushed against his cheeks as he sorted leaves on the table. “But, you had a sister once…” My voice faltered. “…She would’ve been born today.” I looked away from the hazel eyes that turned up to study my face.

“I was born in April.”

“You’re right.” I held the sun catcher up to the window. “And, she would’ve been born today….”

The light filtered through the paper as if it were glass. The tips of the leaves ignited from bright red to a yellow-tinged orange just as my dreams of a dark-haired girl with ringlet curls flamed through my mind. She would’ve had brown eyes like her daddy. Through the window, a huge maple overtook the lawn. Near the inner branches of the tree, the deep green of summer held tightly to its final mark on the foliage. Around the edges and top of the tree, the leaves became lighter and brighter until, at the very topmost outer branches, the color was engulfed with flickers of red that skipped and flitted in the sky.

A flash in the tree, then a highest leaf fell to the ground. I knew I could be the only one who saw it as it swayed and fluttered, its stem tugging it down through the wind and the leaves. Closest to the light, brilliant in its death. The girl of my dreams. The one who lived inside of me only to have her first memory the very face of God.

A tug at my shirt sleeve. Joseph pointed at the leaves on the paper in front of me. “It’s wed.”

I nodded and studied the tree once more.

“Watch Pooh Beah?”

I pulled my gaze from the window to the blue eyes by my side, the color and fire that grew in the boys beside me. “Yeah, buddy. Let’s go watch him.”

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