Fall is here along with the lovely quotes that remind us of its power to show beauty in dying, magnificence in letting go, colors in endings.
But what about when the color doesn’t come?
This fall seems to be more brown than anything else. The weather this summer was certainly erratic enough to cause a loss of fall charm, and isn’t that how seasons go?
One season’s hard steals the joy from the next.
I feel this with trauma, the … continue reading
Four years ago, spring had blossomed and Easter had been celebrated and then winter came.
That most beautiful time of seasons, little did I know, it was the end of beauty for a while, the ushering of a new beautiful season that would not be.
Spring was cut short in my life, the bitterest of my coldest seasons yet came instead, and I think I’ve always been a bit cynical of spring since.
By the time spring comes, I’m beyond … continue reading
We cross the state border, drive hours away, and are hit by beauty.
Golden yellows, deep reds, bright orange, pops of still fresh green. The hills rolled with color. It took my breathe away, filled my heart, and yet made me simultaneously sad. A sadness that rose from the lack of autumn scenery in our own area. A sadness of discontent, with the fall around my home that was brown and blah.
Why weren’t our trees dying as well as … continue reading
I knew it would be a hard winter. It didn’t disappoint. The depression weighed heavy, the cold numbed, the bitter dry season felt never-ending.
I knew it would be hard. But I didn’t expect the first tastes of spring to be so hard too.
March started and hope got in line, and I thought, oh good, now it will get better, now the gloom breaks, now the load lifts. And maybe it’s because I expected it, maybe it’s because … continue reading
There’s just something about loss anniversaries that’s inexplicably hard. And it’s grief, yes, but it’s something more than that, something about being in the same spot of the cosmos that you were when things happened. There’s a heavy darkness that comes, that you know isn’t just the sadness in your heart but it’s the wound in your spirit being pressed.
A couple Sundays ago, it was the anniversary of when we took the first pregnancy test that would end … continue reading
I remember sitting in the service on Sanctity of Life Sunday, expecting the usual pro-life lectures, anti-abortion stances, but what came next surprised me.
Because in that Sanctity of Life series the topics were on foster care and miscarriage.
And I still feel just about as stunned now at remembering it as I did then sitting there hearing it for the first time.
What kind of church takes the podium on Sanctity of Life Sunday and leaves the opportunity to … continue reading
National Foster Care Month.
ALS Awareness Month.
International Bereaved Mother’s Day.
Mother’s Day.
It’s May. All of these calendar happenings have me remembering, which doesn’t take much, because May is a month of memories anyways.
And under the weight of this quarantine, the remembering of that season and the reality of this current one have me in a whole new mixed up place of ache and crazy.
ALS came crashing into my life two Mays ago, when it almost took … continue reading
And just like that, winter clasped its ugly hand over my mouth and stifled the words that would be.
“It’s been a long time since you posted anything,” Facebook notification reminds me.
I know. I know it has, but there’s two types of too hard- too hard that I have to write and too hard to write. It’s been the latter.
And I question why? Would I feel less restless if I had a reason?
But I see the “smaller” … continue reading
Christmas is over. The New Year has come and begun. The holidays daze is done and I’m left in the wake looking ahead at winter.
The decorations are packed back up and put away- all that is except the stray ornament that managed to hide in the hours of clean up and is now hanging out solo waiting to be worth the walk into the basement.
I’m waiting. Waiting for a call, waiting for big news, waiting for a life-altering … continue reading
The trees were all turning brown.
All just giving up, browning, dying, without even the attempt at color.
Too parched, too worn out, too long of a blazing hot dry summer to give way to one last heaving breathe of beauty before the fall.
Instead just brown.
I guess this is how I often feel- dry, defeated, crispy. Too worn out, too long of a hard hot season to give any color.
We were driving one day and I saw … continue reading