The dark and the cold and the wind

November, after the time change, is hard for me. I come home in the dark, it’s cold, windy, snowy.

10 years later, I know this.

The early part of December? It’s filled with loss. For the first 10 days, I march through the memories. Admission to hospital, those days in that bed. The moment he came and went.

In the dark, in the cold, in the wind, I know it’s coming.

In the dark, in the cold, in the wind, I remember.

I know it will pass.

10 years on, you learn that. You learn it will be tough, you know that the waves will engulf you and that you will emerge, spluttering and gasping for breath. You know you will live.

In some ways, that’s harder. You know you will live. And that it will happen next year. And the year after that. You know that you will take care of yourself, you will be kind to yourself, you will seek out warmth and light and care, and you know, on the 10th of December, for a few yours, you will drown all the same.

And that’s life.

I wouldn’t change it. I wouldn’t change the time I had with him, I wouldn’t change the way it broke me, because it made me kinder, wiser and more caring.

But in November? In the dark, in the cold, in the wind? When I feel alone and cold and tired?

It’s tough.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to The dark and the cold and the wind

  1. loribeth says:

    I hate November. :p Maybe a little less, now that the stress of work is behind me. But because it’s the month I was supposed to celebrate the arrivals of my baby girl. And all the other reasons you’ve mentioned. Hang in there!

  2. Jane says:

    We will make it through November. With baked beans, breakfast, books, and knitting.

  3. Debby Hornburg says:

    It’s a struggle.

    I saw a video of a wide eyed little boy looking at the Christmas lights with rapt wonder, and I thought, “Keegan would be so much fun this Christmas.” And I wept to myself for all those memories we didn’t get to make.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *