This time of the year always evokes memories and emotions in me.
It used to be Back to School time! Fifteen years a student. One year a teacher's aide. Thirty years a teacher. That's a lot of new school supplies! My niece, Billie, recently reminded me of my love for new school supplies because she has the same bug. As she told me in a text, she was most excited about returning to school because she could use her school supplies. "...they just give off this 'use me' feel."
I loved this season during my school years. The song "Dancing in the Moonlight" by King Harvest immediately takes me to college: dances, bonfires, parties in the bush, football games, touch football, laughter. Lots of laughter. Everything seemed so new and exciting. Life was a never-ending adventure. It hit me recently, for forty-six years of my life, September, not January, signaled the REAL new year. When everything was new and busy and exciting. No wonder I was so alive during the fall.
So why am I so damn depressed this Autumn?
I seem to be grieving all over again for my brother. I didn't understand why at first. He was born in June, died in December. Why is September giving me such a hard time? Yesterday it hit me like a ton of bricks. September was the month when I moved to Helen's house to help take care of him. When I drove him back and forth to chemo, to radiation, to doctor appointments. When the days were golden and bright, and I was anything but. When the only beauty in the day were the changing colors of the trees we passed daily on our many, many rides. (The symbolism of those leaves and the seasons of life not escaping this poetry teacher's notice.) When I'd sit outside on the deck and hope that the cool crisp Autumn air would blow the hospital stink out of my hair, my clothes, my being. When I knew deep in my heart that we were going to lose him.
Times are sad for so many. I have to write out a list of people to pray for because there are so many that I can no longer recall them all without my list. So many sick. So many doing the same cancer rides my brother and I did. So many people breathing in the crisp fall air as they gather their strength and prepare for another desperate day. Guests to our church's Cupboard whom I hadn't seen in a while sharing the sad reasons for their absences, a wife who passed away, a father gone, a serious hospitalization. Wildfires in the Northwest. Hurricanes in Texas. Hurricanes in Florida. Total devastation in the Caribbean. My country torn apart by racism, ignorance, homophobia, and totally incompetent "leadership." Sometimes, it just all seems too much.
I am a strong and stubborn person. I will count my blessings every day, because I do recognize how good I've got it. I will help those in pain with my words, my prayers, and my actions. I will use the gifts of compassion and empathy God gave me through first hand experience with a grief so deep that it haunts for years afterwards. I may even eventually dance again in the moonlight.
