“So I like best of all autumn, because its leaves are a little yellow, its tone mellower, its colours richer, and it is tinged a little with sorrow and a premonition of death. Its golden richness speaks not of the innocence of spring, nor of the power of summer, but of the mellowness and kindly wisdom of approaching age.” – Lin Yutang The following short essay began as a journal entry after my father died. Later, it was published in the October 1998 issue of Mary Engelbreit’s Home Companion. It’s also included in my essay collection, Writing Home. Lately I’ve been thinking of these lines from Anne Mary Lawler’s poem…