In the last days of Summer, when I begin to mourn the loss of long sunny days, the sun blazes down on us with a vengeance. It is as if it saying, “You want heat, Julie? I’ll have you wishing for colder days in no time!” I sit in my home, determined to not turn on the air conditioning, and… nap.
I know that Fall is coming and, with it, shorter and cooler days. We got a preview last week. I put my heavier bedspread on my bed because of it and curl up into the fetal position. I want warmth.
Yes, even in the 90+ degree weather, I’m still not ready for the seasons to change.
Since Tom’s death, I’ve looked at each changing season in a different light. I suppose, I’ve looked at every day in a different light as well. Death does that. It makes you appreciate life.
The fact that his death fell on the 1st day of Spring (my favorite season), somehow has seemed symbolic. The timing was such that the final ugly days of his life, with all his pain and suffering, and watching him deteriorate before our very eyes all ended just as the sun came out, flowers began blooming, and birds began singing their songs. Of course, it was hard to see that in those early days.
After the initial crossing off of days, then months, I began using the change in seasons to mark some sort of hurdle. I was surviving — just barely on some days.
Things are now different. Oh, I still have my days of woe, but gone are the days where I feel like a chunk of me died with him. I am no longer just crossing days, months, and seasons off the calendar. I’m alive again. It’s great.
Today, I cherish these last days of Summer and look to Fall as a season of letting go. Like the falling leaves, I too can release and make way for the cultivation of new growth, ideas, dreams, friends…and anything else I like to develop.