It's finally Fall...finally, that time of year when the air gets crisp, night comes earlier, your skin gets thinner and you are surrounded by color that changes daily. For me, this month is sort of bitter sweet. While I've had so many wonderful things that have happened to me, there have been some things that have changed me forever. It's ironic, the beauty of Fall. What I long to see all year long, is really the dying off of something so that come spring, it can bloom once again.
To me October always means anniversaries, baking, decorating, warm cardigans, and your favorite jeans. The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown, and the never ending quest to find the perfect/cheap Halloween costume...knowing that making it yourself means really spending as much as you would just buying the damned thing. Getting back out your cozy socks, sweat pants, and looking forward to snuggling under blankets while watching movies...even if it's because you refuse to turn the heat on until November. It's simple minded. It's easy. It's heartwarming, this love affair with October...but at times it comes with a price.
The miracle of life is one that is most definitely taken for granted. I used to be one of these people. The first time we became pregnant I was ready to shout it to anyone I knew, and I was something like 4 weeks pregnant. When you have to be shown how quickly that miracle can be taken away from you, it hardens your heart. When you have to deliver a baby you will never take home, somewhere deep inside, it changes you. Suddenly, all of these other women, of whom you never knew their sorrow, come out of the woodwork. They too had lost a baby. And now, you are in this strange and sad sorority of women who know too well the miracle of life...how it should never be taken for granted. So, I'll either have a good cry, make a stiff drink, or perhaps both (hell knows I've earned it) later this month. From that sorrow, I learned something more profound, your strength not only comes from you, but also the ones you love around you. Little did I know then this would merely be a 'try-on' for my latter life.
I knew before I was even asked. I knew I wanted to get married in October. I had a mental date set up in my head for years. If Jason ever asked me to marry him, I knew I wanted to get married on the same date that we met. If that date would have fallen on a Wednesday, I still would have done it. To most, meeting someone on Friday the 13th would have been a bad omen, but it was a day that intensely changed my life for ever. Our wedding wasn't fancy, but it had meaning. Years later, people would comment to me how much they loved our wedding, the ceremony and the reception. It was a culmination of two families and amazing friends coming together to celebrate. What could be better than that? I'm a week out from this anniversary, and I'm not really sure how I feel. One would understand being sad on that day now...and at times when I think about it, it does make me sad. But, then I think of all that came from it. I think about all of the things I've been given since then.
A wise person told me recently,"... you didn't choose for your entire life to change...you didn't choose for your husband to leave...it happened and now you have to deal with it the best you can." They're right. It's anniversaries like the one I'm approaching that are sort of a mind scramble. It's like I want to mentally prepare myself for that day...yeah, I know the OCD in that statement is easily spread with knife. I'm not obtuse enough to think that I have any control over it. It has been sort of creeping up on me like a cheap pair of underwear...this sort of pit in my stomach. From an extraordinary life, there will always have been pit falls, hard times. On this October 13th (unlucky to some), I'm going to try to focus on the extraordinary gifts I've been given. The extraordinary laughs I have had, and the extraordinary place I have ended up with this person who is no longer here to celebrate with me. October, you are one tough broad. But, you haven't taken this one out yet...
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