"I open the door to this cool winter morning and as I look out at the trees in my neighborhood I think of my mother and grandmother. They would have loved the leaves that have turned red and gold.
My grandmother would say, “dos lebn iz vi a khlum” which loosely translates to, “life is like a dream” and my mother and I would sigh because sometimes it is hard to take in such dazzling sights that defy our imagination.
Those women are gone and when the sky is so blue that it makes your heart hurt I hold my own hand and squeeze and pretend it’s one of theirs and that we are sharing the moment together.
Beauty can be infinitely painful. “ Too much,” I think when the moon is big and bright on the ocean and the white water is fizzing gently over my bare feet.
They knew how I felt. Sometimes I would have to close my eyes or turn away. “Let her go,” my grandmother would say and I would walk on the cold sand away from the brilliant moon’s reflection on the waves.
“I miss you both,” I say under my breath as the breeze picks up and red and gold flutters to the ground. I will go pull on my jeans and gather a handful of leaves. I’ll press them in a book and study them when my heart isn’t quite as full of the treasured time we had together in this dreamy lark called life." -Gail Greenfield Randall
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