A Season of Change

It rained all day yesterday and now the wind is blowing.  The gusts pick up leaves and twigs and fling them at the house.  I have yet to turn on the heat.  I suppose I should.  I am amazed when I think of something, as if it is the first time in my life it has ever occurred to me. Just 5 months ago the same  thoughts were commonplace.

So I turned on the gas to the gas logs to the den and lit the pilot light.  I feel like I just turned it off yesterday.

My dogs keeping barking at the sounds the wind is creating.  They pace around the den anxiously glancing at the windows, sniffing at the gate. The air smells different and the light has changed.

So many new things to get used to.   Perhaps it is just better to make every day different on purpose.  Rearrange the furniture and wear your clothes backwards.  Would purposeful change make unexpected change easier to accept?

I am anxious about the upcoming wedding. I can’t help but wonder what to expect with my daughter getting married.   I know that when I married, my separation from my mother was more pronounced.  I think that is how it should be.   My daughter and I have been close, though not always by her choice. During the years of her treatment for leukemia she had no choice, nor did I.  Two and half years we were locked into that dance.  I needed to be with her.  It was difficult to watch her suffer, but we had some really good times.  We chose to make it as good as it could possibly be.

Then when treatment was over we both felt like we had been set out by the road and told – “okay, you’re on your own.”   There were follow up appointments but the routine that had been established for two and one half years came to an abrupt halt.  It was frightening and confusing.

The days have been frightening and confusing and they vary in intensity.   The way I used to feel is gone.  What has replaced it continues to feel unfamiliar and uncomfortable.   Snatches of time occur that I recognize as similar to some other situation, but I don’ t know what to anticipate.  I wonder if I ever really did anticipate anything with any accuracy.

Today I took care of a few last minute things concerning the wedding and reception.  Once I crossed over the mountain, crossing under the Blue Ridge Parkway going Northeast the sky cleared a bit.  There was a faint rainbow off to the left against the mountains.   I even needed my sunglasses as I traveled an hour further Northeast.    I found the items on my list.  I even found shoes for the wedding for me, though I’ve got to take my husband to find some to make sure they fit.   A friend who traveled with me was great company. Her company was comfortable and we laughed and talked about everything and nothing.

I dropped my friend back at her car and heading back home, I looked up at the upper elevations – towards the Blue Ridge Parkway.  There was snow on the peaks.   Southwesterly  I traveled and there were more clouds hugging the mountaintops and under them more snow.

I wanted to call my son and daughter.   I called the only one of them I could.

I love talking to my daughter and I yearn to talk to my son.  I find myself yearning for both my chidden to be here with me.  The wind had changed and there is snow, and they ought to be here.  The yearning  is an ache that runs so deep, unlike anything I have ever experienced before in my life. In the face of the changing seasons of weather and life, I am afraid this is a feeling that will never change.

My daughter will change in the ways she should to become a wife and hopefully one day a mother.  Her confidence in herself will grow along with her independence from me and her her interdependence on her husband.   She will become more and more who she is.   I think it is just that all change right now nudges me off  footing, off balance.  I am trying to anticipate what will come next, but as I mentioned before I have less confidence in that ability than I ever have before.

I know I would have felt this same  bittersweet sadness and joy concerning my daughter’s marriage had her brother lived to be here.   I know that I am at times a sentimental slob.   This is my baby that is getting married.  The tears are getting all mixed up together these days – tears because my baby is grown and getting married, tears because her brother will not be here for this milestone or the rest of her life.  There doesn’t seem to be a solution for me to get all this straightened out right now.   I just have to wait for the next corner, the next change and whatever it brings.



About pathfinder

Artist, Writer, Walking wounded.
This entry was posted in Coping with the Death of a Child, Death, Marraige and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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