HK and I came home last week after an extended stay in Florida, where my Mom continues her struggle for life.

When we left Georgia in late October, the leaves in extreme North Georgia were just beginning to turn. Atlanta was still mostly green, but that perfect Autumn crispness had returned. Time to dig out the jeans and scarves. I call it “Sweater Weather”, and it is my favorite time of year.

Arriving in Southwest Florida, we were met with high humidity and temps in the upper 80’s, so we unpacked our summer clothes, once again, to try and beat the heat. Shorts Weather, again.

Mom was right where we had last seen her only a few weeks prior, in her hospital bed in the living room. Only this time, there was noticeable difference in her condition-both physical and mental. I was sure we would lose her during our stay. The Hospice nurses prepared us for the event. It never came.

During this stay, our real estate agent called with the good news that our house was officially Under Contract. After several (more) meaningful, appreciated weeks with Mom and Dad, we bid our “Goodbyes”, and “I Love You’s” and drove back to Atlanta to prepare for the sale as well as a temporary move to our lake house.

Back in Atlanta, we were thrilled that we had made it in time to catch the best of Fall’s glory-the deep magenta, orange and golden hues hanging, ever so delicately, on Atlanta’s magnificent trees. The rustle of leaves on the ground as we walked through the parks and the smells of decaying foliage brings back playful memories from years past.

Now it is cold in Georgia, temps dipping into the 30’s at night, barely making it to the 50’s during the shortened daylight hours. Fireplace Weather. Down Jackets.

The Holiday Season is upon us. It is not sweet, nor bitter, but full of sadness, hopefulness, love and acceptance. Mom will transition soon. I will miss her dearly. But with that transition, I believe in my heart that she will never truly be gone. She will be in a peaceful and joyous place that will celebrate her for the spirit that she is. Mom is love. We are all love. And in the end, isn’t that what matters most?