There is something about Autumn that I simultaneously loathe yet fall in love with. It’s a beautiful time of year, all of the different colored leaves both on the trees and on the ground just make me pause. It’s the season of sweaters and hot coffee, snuggling up for movies while listening to the rain, I look forward to Autumn every year.
I can’t think of something I enjoy more than sitting around a fire with close friends, and staying up talking, singing, and drinking cold beer as the stars come out. That’s medicine for my soul right there, it’s soothing. Even a fire by myself is something out of this world. The smell of wood smoke, just my tunes, my thoughts, and myself.
Even now, after a night with friends, that unfortunately ended up with some severe pains in my abdomen, I am back outside. I did my chores, did a bit of bids from home, managed to eat a bit, and I’m back outside with my laptop. Just sitting and writing, listening to the leaves blow in the trees.
Yet, this time of year means winter is coming. It means cold and darkness, snow and memories. Every year now, I take Autumn as a time to reflect and prepare myself for the months ahead. Winter hits me hard, for numerous reasons, and each just strike me through the heart it feels.
My mother was really sick in the winter months. A lot of my aversion to the winter is due to the inevitable digging up of those memories. From the childish hope that my mother would get better, to the charity of our family and friends, all the way to death and emotional pain so deep, that you wish to join.
Of course all of those memories drudge up others I have lost, and the attached pain and longing as well. Then of course you have to face your own mortality, especially as someone who is chronically ill, that can be a bitter pill to take.
It’s a tough time of year for me, despite my love for it. It’s the time of year for reflection, to remember, and to learn.