Dear Roxana

Autumn is upon us, and the village is immersed in vibrant deep colors of gold, red and amber.  The mountain maples shine in deep rich colors, the season displays magnificent scenery, and the sun sets to a sky filled with crimson clouds and a painted sky of red and gold.  The days have transitioned to crisp afternoons and cozy cool nights; it’s the time of harvest and abundance as we prepare for winter.

Autumn will quietly deepen and the leaves will burst with intense color over the next few weeks.  Then as softly as it entered it will begin to drift away as the leaves fall to cover the road in what looks like a patchwork quilt.

It is also the time of year that the children start back to school.  In my last letter, I mentioned that my oldest would be leaving home for the first time to attend college.  I found as that day approached that my thoughts were once again on you as you bid farewell to so many of your children one by one.

A mother’s love is a dimension only understood once you enter it and is almost impossible to describe.  How do you describe the perfect combination of the autumn covered mountains to someone who is blind, or a melody that brings you to tears to a person who is deaf?  Its knowing that you will endure the greatest joy and sorrow in your life, and yet, still be willing to enter that realm called motherhood.

Being a mother means that at times we will have the softest touch as we bath our newborn, be brave as we look under the bed for a noise our six year-old said sounded like a monster, be tender as we comfort our teenager who has just suffered a broken heart, and be tough in a way that will contradict our femininity. 

As you watched Martha, your first-born leave home, did you wonder if you could have done more?  Was what you gave her and taught her enough?  Did you question why in that moment you felt your heart swell with pride and admiration for the person they have become, and yet feel a profound sadness and emptiness as you realize that the baby you held in your arms is now walking to the next chapter in their lives?  

How strong a woman you must have been Roxana to endure that moment so many times in a mother’s journey.   I wish I could sit with you right now, share a cup of coffee as we sit on the porch, two mothers, a journey shared by motherhood, more profound as I tell you about your fifth great-grandson and the man he has become.

Your loving great, great, great, great-granddaughter