Day 232

Daddy cleaned up the leaves. In one windy day, he blew them off the lawn, away from the house, and into the woods. Lately, I had been sad simply looking out the window and seeing all the leaves falling on the ground. The fallen leaves — like so much else out here — remind me of Dad. Every fall, for years — at least since my son was born — I’ve come out here for a long weekend to help Dad rake leaves. It’s a chore most people hate. I enjoy it — the quiet, calm, repetitive motion. I used to look forward to clean up. This year, however, the town announced they don’t have enough money to pick up the leaves as they have in prior years. If the town doesn’t pick them up, there’s no use cleaning them up. Where would we put them? Mom was worried about the leaves, stressed about the clean up. I told her not to worry. We’d wait until the spring. If the town picked them up then, I’d be happy to spend a weekend raking. If they didn’t, we’d figure something out then. Seriously, we are still in the midst of pandemic. Life is not normal. Why are we going to get upset or anxious about leaves? But Mom will always be Mom, and worrying is what she does best. So Dad took care of it for her. The wind today was fierce. My son went outside earlier today to read. Two minutes later he came back into the house. It was cold and he was afraid the wind would tear the book out of his hands. But it was he who noticed — shortly before the sun set — that the leaves were gone, that Daddy, disguised as the wind, had blown them all away.