The Sweet Taste of Autumn

As we got into the car in the early morning, anticipating the long ride, we made sure to bring our morning coffee and some snacks to eat while traveling to the orchard. It seemed like both my oldest daughter and I have been waiting for this moment all summer. The trees along the side of the road was slowly turning the colors of fall, the reds and yellows glowing in the morning sun. As we started our journey, the streets were empty of cars, but inside the car there was laughing at each other, singing loud enough that we were sure the truckers that raced by us could hear us. This ride happened every year, and both my daughter and I enjoyed being with each other. We could talk about mostly anything from boys to school starting, to what college my precious daughter wanted to attend. Her testing scores were high, and I was proud of her. She had become a person that had her own opinions, and would take the world on by the tail and ride that ride to the end.

As we finally approached the orchard, anticipation and excitement filled the car. Here we are, getting out of the car and into a world we knew so well. The trees were full of apples of all kinds, from Gala to Johnathan to Macintosh. How to choose? That was anyone's guess. Walking through the orchard down a lane in between the trees, the apples glistened in the morning dew. The wetness had made the skins sparkle in the sunshine. Both my daughter and I decided to get a variety of each, and went about using the provided ladders to pick our own. Laughing as we tried to reach a few that were really out of reach, we both realized that this would be a memory to be held close to the heart. This was a part of what life is all about, enjoying each others company and yet making so many decisions together.

The ride home from the orchard seemed long and endless, but after awhile the silence crept in, making my mind and emotions run rampant. Here my child sits, not a child anymore, but a grown woman. She let her hair down and her eyes kept to the road, We again started to laugh, tell jokes that were somewhat not funny, and again sing out loud. I wonder how we both would be if we did karoke in our nearby church that has it every week. We would probably, at least I would goof up the song, and laugh histerically. It seems that this moment might be our last together, our last time of being mother and daughter. I wish I know what she was thinking about. All of a sudden I was thinking about the loss I feel once she went back to school, not being able to be near her as often. I thought about what she may become after college and who she will marry, if she does. I think about her having children, and being so far away that I cannot guide her during the first year of the child's life. She has grown into an exceptional person, unique in her own ways of thinking and doing. How will she survive this world, and the situations that may happen. I normally don't think about the evil in this world, but it is my baby, my child, that will be far away from me and my protection. That is the hardest for me to come to grips with. The thoughts of how I have raised this child into an adult, the things I hope I have taught her to help her along the way, and the survival skills like cooking together and doing laundry seems to overcome me, and I start to weep. My mind drifts back to the present moment, and I see she is looking at me with those sky blue eyes, the eyes that are like pools of clean water. She is smiling at me with the love between mother and daughter. There is nothing more precious than this. I know that I have never cried in front of her, so she probably thought that something was wrong. Her smile for a moment left her face, then a smile again when she saw that I was okay. There is such love between us. This love cannot really be broken, it is always living in each of us. It cannot be torn out or pushed away for the lifetime of each individual. It lasts all through eternity, even in death. I am proud of the woman my daughter is becoming. She is loud mouthed, opinionated, yet she knows what she wants and how she wants her life to be. She is a hard worker, a great decision maker, and a child I am proud to call my own. She in some ways mirrors me, my decision to have her was for the best. I will never tell her that she was a product of an assault on myself, because she is my life. She might be someday curious of why no father was put on her birth certificate, but when she is ready to know, and asks me why, I hope I will be strong enough to explain the situation as it was. At first when I realized after that tragic night that I was with child, I did not know if I was keeping this small being or giving it up. I was unsure if I could raise a child, I was really not a child myself, but there was so much of life ahead of me. But taking , after much thought and research, I decided. The final decision came with the first movement in my belly. That first sign of real life. I then did not care about anything except protecting this young being, even though it was going to be hard, but not too hard to endure to model and love a tiny being from birth to adult. So now here she sits, the daughter I love and adore. The orchard behind us, the memories in us, and the time well spent with each other. These days may end soon to be together, but I realize that I really did my best to raise her, to love her, to nurture her. Now it is her turn to live life the way she was meant to live, on her own terms. My job is done for now, but I feel that there is more times to come where the mother in me will be needed again. And I will happily accept the challenge.