It’s Fall Again…

Here we are, fall again.

I used to love fall. It was my favorite season. I loved the change of scenery; the reds, yellows, golden magic around us.

Then we lost her in November. What used to be my favorite, became my worst. For the first time I understood seasonal affective disorder.

For the first time I needed to find tools to combat the darkness.

In just a few short weeks, it will be four years since Andrea ran ahead to heaven. The math is hard here; it will be the 4th anniversary date? That just doesn’t sound right. We will begin the 5th year without her?

Regardless, this is the fourth time I have navigated the change of seasons with sadness imbedded into it. The fourth time October hits and my heart goes, “Here we go again…”.

The fourth time I mentally prepare for what is to come.

But with that, I have finally had just enough to see some patterns. To look ahead with a prepared heart maybe? I have just a few years under my belt so, for the first time, a glimmer of the old love of fall has returned.

That also brings on a chaotic combination of emotions.

There’s a relief, a joy that some of my old self is returning. A familiar shadow of the me I used to know. The spark of the acknowledgement of colors, change, restoration in the rest. The burning of candles. The joy of Hallmark movies and crochet. I used to love sewing for Christmas and reading books-these new hobbies have given my hands a task while keeping my mind out of the sadness of grief.

But with that spark, a fear sneaks in.

Am I forgetting her?

Silly me, I know the answer to that. I know the times my mind wanders to her. The times my head/heart talk. The drive to work. The early morning quiet in an empty house during hunting season. The quiet outside of a classroom; when the noise stills.

My kids; all three of them, my daughter-in-laws, my grandkids, they are wound into the fiber of who I am. They are threads of my heart.

No. I am not forgetting her. I am learning how to feel without the tears. Most of the time.

Early October the tears hit though.

Maybe the early dark. Maybe the date that I realized was the last time I saw her alive in person. When she touched my face. When I knew she loved me. Maybe it was the realization that, once again, the sad season has come.

My lack of patience in the classroom.

My apologies to those three boys….

And the realization that I do know what’s coming.

I can prepare.

I know, now, where most of my weak areas are and I can prepare.

I’ve got the candles ready to burn in the dark hours.

Rob has so much wood that our house is warmer in the winter than it ever is in the summer. It’s the only time of the year I don’t need a sweatshirt, or flannel in our house…and somehow that is something to look forward to in these dark months.

I buy flowers when I go to Costco.

I’m waiting to put up my Winter Village and the Panda Tree…Those I will save for the weekend before November 11.

And I can now adapt for my low patience in the classroom during a week where I know my emotions will take all my energy. I will have nothing in reserve for squirrelly junior-highers.

I now know I won’t.

But, I can tie The Princess Bride movie to the Narrative Writing Unit we’ve been working on.

My favorite movie, which then became Andrea’s.

I can have a few days that I won’t have to be driven to get the things done.

I can rest a little. I now know how to prepare for those days. Know not to push myself so hard.

And, in the process, slowly but surely, the tears are turning into quivering smiles.

Maybe time does heal. Not without scars. Not without learning to adapt without, but healing nonetheless.