I have a love/hate relationship with fall.
I love it because:
- I love all the colours of the leaves.
- I love the crisp air in the morning.
- I love that routines/activities start up again.
I hate it because:
- I hate all the colours of the leaves. Three weeks from today it will be four years since Bill died. It’s about this time that I feel the sea of my heart begin to churn and know there is a big wave of grief on it’s way. It will crash over me. I will feel like I am drowning. And then, on Oct. 5th by heart sea will again be calm. It’s not the day that’s so bad, it’s the leading up to it. The colours of the leaves remind me that the grief wave is on it’s way.
- I hate the crisp air in the morning. It was a sunny crisp morning when I left the hospital on the morning of Oct. 5 as a widow. I remember it so clearly. I remember where I was parked. I remember opening up the trunk to put the bag of his clothes in it. I remember the smell in the air – that smell of fallen leaves that are starting to rot. Not an unpleasant smell, but now it will always remind me of Bill’s death.
- I hate that routines/activities start up again. The routine I really hate is that in the next weeks the scenes of Bill’s last days play over and over and over in my head like a movie in constant replay. I cry a lot. I feel guilty – for not loving him enough to keep him alive. I know it’s crazy, but it’s what goes through my head. I hate that when something funny happens while I’m out at one of my activities, that Bill’s not here to tell it to when I get home. I miss him so much. My love for him has not decreased in the four years since he died, and never will. I will never “get over” his death. I am and will continue learning to live without him. But it’s extra hard in the fall.
Thanks for listening to my rambling venting. It helps me to write it down rather than have it circling in my head. And don’t worry if you see me and it looks like I’ve been crying. I have, but I will be okay.