I Miss You Most of All…

Today is the autumnal equinox. Fall is such a great season–carved pumpkins, bright colors, endless pots of soup and homemade bread, cinnamon and apples, costumes, band concerts, and cozy sweaters. The changing color of the leaves is probably my favorite. As a painter, it feels like nature puts on the best art show and we get to walk in the gallery for free.

And autumn breaks my heart.

My mama died on October 15th in 2007. My big brother died last year on October 11th. Bryan was diagnosed at the end of September/beginning of October last year. This time of year is both amazing and fraught. I watched our Northern Red oak tree change into the most extravagant colors last year. It caught my breath while I was confronting the reality that my husband had terminal cancer. It has begun to turn colors again. This time I will watch without Bryan.

Bryan often talked about liminal spaces–where ocean meets sand, where mountains rise up out of flatlands, when time shifts from one season to another, when we shift and change. It may seem a little pagan, but we shared a fondness for the equinoxes and solstices–four times a year of guanteed liminal space. We got married on the vernal equinox for this reason.

The rain the last few days has kept me inside and I’ve used the time to move some furniture and reimagine the space in this house–changes to create something new, new modes of thinking, new ways of living. Changing seasons force us into newness even as we reflect on anniversaries and the bone-aching memories. I am both grief-stricken and hopeful. And this song makes me think of all of that loss while celebrating beauty and change.