Seasons; a clothes narrative

While not officially here for a few more days, Fall is in the air. We sleep with the windows open at night, we wear light jackets in the morning hours, and we see longer shadows in the afternoon. Rain falls on and off, and it smells clean and sweet.

Today, I cleaned out JR's closet and put her summer clothes away. It always saddens me when I say goodbye to a season through her closet. While I have been doing the same thing with my clothes throughout the years, somehow it is different when it comes to JR's. Redoing her closet four times a year, and although its only been two and some years, puts a time stamp on our lives. It symbolizes her growing up and the time passing by. Whereas with my clothese little changes from year to year - donate the old, keep the new - little else changes; I have been pretty cosistent with my size. In her case, though, it reminds me that the clock is ticking, that she is growing, and that there is such a thing as time, and it is precious.

It is easy to lose track of the days when I am with her all day every day. I often have to refer to the calendar on the wall to remember what day of the month we are in. I look at my watch to see what time it is. But growing up knows no dates and no time. It just happens, right before our eyes, a little each day, every day until one day, the clothes get too small - or do the kids get too big? One way or the other, they grow up, slowly become their own selves, and one day, too soon, leave. Then, the closets stand empty, and the seasons change all by themselves. If I am still up for it at that time I may continue to rotate my closet, but if I am not, then I will track the seasons through the window, or on the calendar. Until then, though, I will enjoy watching JR grow and observe the season through her clothes.