Dear Honey Run Friends,
I was driving to the store the other evening around 6 p.m. It was gray, dark, and cold. While my eyes were trying to adjust and focus on the road, I was flushed with gratitude for this time of year and its darkness. The darkness of fall sends me to this wonderful hibernation place in my mind. The darkness allows me to reflect on life, withdraw a little into my own world, and remember. Remember what has occurred this past year – the struggles, the victories, the joy, and the pain.
As I spin through these mental gymnastics, I arrive home. I turn on the lights, dim them, and sit back for more reflection in silence. While sitting there, I look at the two paintings I inherited from each of my grandparents. These are certainly no da Vinci works of art, but to me, they hold more value than the Mona Lisa. These paintings transport me back in time to when I was in my grandparents’ home. They remind me of a sunny Sunday morning, waiting for my grandmother to finish getting dressed so that we could walk to church, or of the times I would pass, sitting in my grandmothers living room as she would cook some of her famous pancakes for me.
These memories remind me of the people who influenced me in my life and helped me become who I am today. These are good memories, even though they are tainted with some sadness, because the days have passed. The experiences will never die, because they are ingrained in my soul. I am so thankful for this time of year and its gift of remembrance. While the other seasons offer memories, autumn seems to add an increased awareness by taking away the distractions and allowing me this time of hibernation from the busyness of life.
I hope you have some time to hibernate from life this fall and to build your own mental library of memories and experiences. I trust these will become your most cherished and valued trophies from this life.
Your contemplating Innkeeper,
2 responses to “Letter from Jason – November 2016”
Jason, I am so impressed with how the Inn has developed during your ownership. When Bill died, I realized that we would no longer have those special days at the Inn. However, I am getting close to just coming up by myself for a couple of days. The open air art gallery sounds particularly inviting, but so does the restaurant with its interesting menu choices. I will not let another year pass without visiting. If I don’t make it before the holidays, have really good ones – happy ones.
PS. How is Marge. She was showing signs of memory loss the last time we visited and that is three years ago now.
What a lovely newsletter. Beautifully stated!