2020.

I am so grateful October brings the rich flavors of a new season. 

My word of the season is "savor." 

I want to savor the hugs, throwing the football in the sunshine, baking chocolate chip peanut butter cookies, sunset strolls, reading with Abe every night at bedtime, Friday night movie nights, singing our favorite hymns alongside the virtual church broadcast, sticking our feet in the sand a few more times before its cold, lighting the pumpkin/honey/pine-scented candles, the aromas of sautéed onion and garlic on their way into a delicious soul-filling dinner, hand-writing sincere thank you notes, celebrating both boys' birthdays, watching Jean-Margaret fill the bird feeder on a crispy morning and chatting with the birds who visit, paddle-boarding across a peaceful waterway, listening to Van play his favorite song on the guitar, meeting a dear friend for wine, laughter and swapping tales of 2020, admiring the way a glop of gold paint can swirl around the canvas with a palette knife, watching our burnt orange mums start to bloom, noticing the the varying shapes and colors of the pumpkins, their stems, soaking in ALL the giggles...and sharing a perfect cup of coffee with Evans on the back porch or on a boat cruise.

Savoring the beauty of this season blooms from the despair and overwhelming complexity of 2020. I have a sincere thirst for indulging in all the senses and celebrating even the smallest moments life has to offer this fall. What keeps refreshing my hope in this world are these precious souls:

Van (5th), Jean-Margaret (3rd), Abe (1st)

The kids check temperatures twice daily, fill out three covid affidavits each morning, drop off at three separate locations, have A/B schedules for Van, wear masks all day, have socially distanced recess... (Van mentioned, for him, recess has turned into "the worst hour of the day"), zero sports teams or gymnastics...very few birthday parties.  It has been so inspiring to watch them tackle all of these obstacles in stride. 

I wonder how this will affect them emotionally down the road, or even next year. Will this all disappear? Will they feel increased anxiety in groups or without a mask? Will they miss having more time to play at home? We will go back to our "old life" juggling so many activities and sports? How will they remember 2020? Mom was super irritable and edgy? Mom was a superhero and homeschooled us on the fly? Will a new president set a new tone for their future? I'm not sure. But I do want to remember that despite the unpredictability of 2020 I attempted to remain steady, hopeful, and savor it all.