Fall

The word "autumn" just sounds so hoity-toity to me. I like fall. It's short and simple. When I think of the verb, I think of freedom and trust and bravery and comfort -- like falling from a trapeze platform with a safety harness and net. It's only later that I think of fear and embarrassment and pain -- like stumbling and tripping and falling.

The autumnal equinox is still 12 days away, but you wouldn't know it judging by the weather. It's chilly and the leaves had started to turn already when my boss and I did our doughnut trek across Maine the last week of August.

Fall has always been my favorite season. I love that it's cooler. I love the colors. I love digging out my comfy, warm clothes (it feels like snuggling). I love that this season is packed so full of holidays -- especially Halloween and Thanksgiving. (I especially love holidays that relate to food....) The fall derby season is so much less crazy than the spring one.

For the last several years, though, fall has also carried this crappy burden around with it: It's the season my mom died. Less than a month from today is the fourth deathiversary. And even though I know I should stop counting, even though I know her birthday is the date I should focus on, I still can't help where my mind wanders. It just meanders there without any help or guidance from me.

Last night, I was lying in bed trying to sleep when I heard this tremendous crashing sound outside (like a garbage truck rattling through the house or something). Thunder. I love thunderstorms, but I don't love the headaches that accompany them.

And that's when I remembered that last fall also marked the beginning of one of the worst headache seasons I've ever experienced -- the headaches themselves weren't the worst I'd ever had (although some were really bad), it was the frequency of them that was so much worse than anything I remember dealing with before. Thanks to a concussion I received 13 months ago and the way my head reacts to barometric pressure, I had a headache nearly every day between last October and the beginning of April.

As many headaches as I've had since the middle of April (and there have been quite a few, even some real doozies), it hasn't been anywhere near as bad as it was last fall and winter. I'd actually let myself forget how bad it had been. Until last night. When the thunder crashed outside my apartment, I didn't think about how much I love thunderstorms, I thought about fall (the verb with the bad connotations). I thought about what's in store for me in the weeks to come.

Sometimes, it's hard to shake off past hurts and walk around appreciating the wonder and beauty in the world. It's especially hard when you're experiencing physical pain (which makes me think of my mom and how sad she always was and how it makes a lot more sense to me now that I can relate to the physical pain part a bit).

All I could think of last night was the world is terrible sad and I am lonely. I'd accidentally transposed part of a quote from The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making by Catherynne M. Valente. The real line is: "Be my friend and love me, for the world is terrible lonely and I am sad." Really, I guess it works either way.

And if I seem a little less myself than usual in the coming weeks, the coming season, that's why.