searching for fall

Last year as the weather cooled and the fog started to settle in I can remember having the frequent desire to stop the march of summer into fall. It was the inevitable approach of the holidays that made me feel like the air was being sucked out of my lungs.  I used to love the fall and all the holidays that it brought along with it but last year was different.  All the things I loved about the season had morphed into all the things I hated about the season.

This morning I woke up and for the first time this year it felt like fall. The air had a crispness to it so that as I made my transition from the warmth of my bed to the living room couch to drink coffee and eat cereal, I had to pull our wool blanket around my shoulders.  Outside it was so foggy and misty that I could barely make out the outline of the houses on the hill below us.  It just felt like the corner from summer into fall had finally been turned.

With the feeling that fall was finally here came a tiny flicker of apprehension as well.  A little spark of anxiety that made me wonder how I was going to feel through these next few months as Halloween and Thanksgiving, and then the big one- Christmas, come barreling down the pipeline.  These holidays are rich with themes of family and togetherness and celebration; all themes that seem to emphasize George's absence.

Like I do every day, this morning I put Clio in the carrier, kissed her on her sweet little head, and we went for a walk around our neighborhood. Usually I just space out listening to music while Clio sleeps but this morning my mind wondered to George and what going on a walk would be like with him if he had miraculously lived instead of died that March day.  He would be nineteen months old now, old enough to be interested in all the things I would point out during our walk; red-orange leaves on the ground, spiderwebs outlined in dew drops, Halloween pumpkins and plastic skeletons hanging on fences...

Thinking about George this morning made my chest ache but it also made me smile a little bit too.  A fair haired boy with big blue eyes, wide in amazement and excitement, dressed in corduroy pants and a striped sweater. He would have loved this time of year, I'm sure of it.  Sometimes George is still alive in my imagination and sometimes it feels good to visit him there.

With the holidays approaching, how is everyone feeling?  Will you be including your missing child in your holiday traditions?  Are the holidays making you feel anxious or are they making you feel hopeful?