My birthday is next week. This always makes me nostalgic for home, more specifically, the home of my childhood. I grew up in New England, and there is no better place to be in the fall than in New England.  The countryside comes alive with vibrant colors. The air is a crisp as freshly picked apples. And it is the perfect time to visit the White Mountains and admire the fall foliage.

Problem is, I won’t be there this year. So, I am writing about my childhood memories of fall in New England, the colors, gleaning the fields for corn in the fall, and making applesauce with my mother and sisters. Hopefully, I can capture these wonderful moments, and they will be like comfort foods which I share with my children and their children.  And hopefully, like comfort foods, my family will want to enjoy them over and over again–sharing my delight in the magic of fall and the magic of childhood, when I thought nothing was better than hot cinnamon infused applesauce freshly made from apples picked with my sisters at the neighborhood orchard.

Much of the time I spend researching involves replaceable things. If I lost my birth certificate or other documents, they can be replaced.  However, my memories, are irreplaceable, something that only I can share with my children, because they are mine, they are part of me, no one can look them up at the library, unless I put them in the book first. This year, I helped my mother compile her early memories. For Christmas this year, my mother and I will be giving the family the story of her childhood, engagement, and early married life.  My mother called me today, excited because she received the final proof of her book. It was loads of fun working together which was another great memory. Finishing this gave us both a great feeling knowing that we captured these memories, while they were still available.  This fall, make memories, alone or with family, write them down, and share, in a way that only you can.