It’s officially fall by just a day or two. Fall—my absolute favorite time of year. I love the crispness of the air after the suffocating summer. I love the rush of energy that comes when I walk outside and feel the changing seasons . . . even though I haven’t felt it just yet. (I believe Mother Nature missed the memo about the daytime temperatures no longer being in the high 80s.) I get so much more done in the fall . . . if it was fall all year long I’d be the most productive human being on the planet.

Just today I noticed how the trees are starting to turn, their leaves beginning to change from glorious green to a rainbow of colors, setting the world on fire for the briefest of times before leaving their temporary home and gently floating to the ground. I think sugar maples excel in this area; they dress themselves so beautifully in the fall.  I really need a yard full of them.

I’ve often thought that people and trees hold a great deal in common. Those that are well-rooted can withstand even the strongest of storms. The adversity they endure may scar them, but those scars give them character; they cause you to stop and take notice, to appreciate their resilience. And as fall approaches with winter not far behind, they adjust accordingly.

There are those people who are fortunate enough to know that Death is approaching. Even though that knowledge is both a blessing and a curse, it affords the opportunity to say good-bye, to encourage those around you and to be encouraged, to set your house in order as it were. Many of those people find themselves battling devastating diseases and, in the midst of the battle, they become the trees of fall. The beauty of their character manifests itself as time grows shorter. We find that, when we seek to comfort them, we leave comforted. When we seek to offer hope and encouragement, we are led to the understanding that they have chosen to face the inevitable conclusion of life with dignity, grace, and peace, an understanding which allows us to do the same as we prepare for their departure. As the light begins to fade, drawing the ends of the day closer together, their faith and their courage become their cloak as they face Death—the leaves of fall before the silence that is winter.

The post The Leaves of Fall appeared first on Shackelford Funeral Directors | Blog.