{celebrate}

I can't quite pulse my finger on this magical ending notion that sweeps over me like a sorcerer's spell this time of year. I have coveted its tingling in my bones since just a tiny little girl. I feel it. Not just the ending sense in the atmosphere of Autumnal displays. With picture book images too bright and beautiful to even capture inside a clicking screen. But in who I am and the place that the daylight savings time signifies in my life.

I think magically. No, nothing satanic or evil driven. But it's more a collecting of keepsakes kinda spirit that moves in me. As early as I can remember this time has been sacred & special. A time where I scour up all the empty wrappers of what's been done and ones that have yet to be opened too. I toy with them there in my hands. Manipulating their waxy coated papers for delicious preservation. Twisting each more into me.

I can remember Halloweens as just a little girl. Cherished & rich with the galavanting of costume collaborations of my Mom and my Aunt Sharon. Tacky Day at school in my little town. A tilt-a-whirl of 4 cousins giddy as face paint and refashioned tube socks turned all things magical.

There was always the on-guard alert for our house to be rolled. My Dad stood watch. It happened nonetheless every single October. Waking to weeping white streams swirled & draping was almost the most fun. It was like the foreshadowing of a hopeful white Christmas blizzard just a couple months away.

It was the only time I ever saw my Mom wear green nail polish.

Why this season? Why now? I have no idea. And it matters not as my pulse moves on. For the fog lingers a little longer on the this season's last twists of grass. And the branches know blankets golden and watermelon crusted crimson for a just a wee bit more too. And this is enough for me to celebrate. With waxy wrappers and images too bright and beautiful to capture inside a clicking screen, I toy with what the worthiness of celebration in myself. For what has and what will be. Autumn is such a delightful glimmer.

Perhaps that's what I love about family. Moreover, the memories they create. It's not that we all don't have hideaway ones stowed & tucked that are deemed never to be recalled. We all have some of those on some scale or another.

But it's more the collective gathering of people who mean something to you that leave you imprinted. It's as if these collaboration of souls catapult you into a capsule compressed & packed with huge heapings of "Yes. This. Oh, let me never forget." And like a cauldron so massive, your insides begin to twirl that big ole wooden spoon. Smells become paramount & etched. Placements of the mundane become time warped & locked. Little becomes so very big and swollen in the vestibule of you as the churning and folding of ingredients concoct.

Memories are forever.

And just like humans are so known to do, we pass them on. This. This, to me, is God's sovereign way of saying, "Good matters. It matters enough to move from one to the other. It matters enough to spread out and share. Please, by all means, spread My hope." This handing out happens not just in the holy helpings we plop-spoon onto the plate of others. It happens in the little light we share with the everyday of us just the same. God's brilliantly working His intricate web; He spins the little silk strands equally as efficient as the ones sturdy and foundational.

It's important that we all remember His hope is worth celebrating.

My boys? They are the recipients of my tiny silk strands of good. For since they've been a part of my world, I have infused my memories of Autumn's delight into their little boy days. And I have been most thankful to have captured the watermelon crusted crimson of them with their images on my clicking screen.

Too bright & beautiful to recall, my words attached will service ~~them~~ me well in the years to come. Oh, this time. Thank you, Lord, for this wonderful memory of my precious family of 4. And this one? Thank you kindly just the same. My senses overflow with gratefulness just peeking back at these images. Perhaps with this one, they will remember their toddler friends and with this one know a little more of my bag of jelly beans costume from 5th grade too.

Memories are forever.

And it's this time of year I collect. From my revolving gypsy costume in my little girl closet to my handmade belly dancer costume 6 months pregnant with Casey, this is my time for toying with wrappers there waxy in my hands.

For the costumes will be a memory I can recall from my childhood and soon theirs. My job as their mummy is not just to guide them, but to show them ways to celebrate the simple silk webs He so masterfully spins.