I hate October. I hate it. For as long as I can remember, I have associated October with trauma. All of my deepest wounds and losses have come in October. Usually they've hit me with such intensity that if I were to write the story of my Octobers as a screenplay, HBO would pick it up as a dark comedy.
No. Seriously. As an example: There was a single day in an October where I was sitting in the ER with Thing 2 when my stepmother called to tell me my father was rushed by ambulance to another hospital. A few hours later, my father-in-law called to tell us that My Personal Chef's mother was being rushed to yet a different hospital. All life-threatening. All on the same day. All in October.
No. Seriously. As an example: There was a single day in an October where I was sitting in the ER with Thing 2 when my stepmother called to tell me my father was rushed by ambulance to another hospital. A few hours later, my father-in-law called to tell us that My Personal Chef's mother was being rushed to yet a different hospital. All life-threatening. All on the same day. All in October.
Then October, 2013 rolled around. It's been good. Very good, in fact. For starters, it's beautiful. Living in New England, I've been blessed with some of the most incredible fall foliage on the planet. This is the river that runs through my neighborhood:
Add to this lovely environment, are all these people I love that have filled my days with joy. With the Official Fall of Fabulosity To Do List, I've intentionally been making sure that we do things that are memory making. There's been trips to two different country fairs. High-spirited dinners out with friends have fed both body and soul. The impromptu birthday party with my sisterfriends was nifty. Trips to the library and bookstores and the post office all made me smile. (Yes, the post office--I simply LOVE to send mail to folks and there is a brand new baby in the FabFam that needed a personalized gift shipped to her in sunny Florida.)
The Evil Genius and I went to a local museum, and a Harlem Wizards show basketball game last weekend. A pack of us ran the Color Run 5K, too. Something about tie dying a tee shirt while wearing it just tickled me. Seeing my sisterfriend, husband and youngest son complete their first 5K ever was pretty satisfying, too.
I had the extreme pleasure of spending a lunch hour at the Sachuest National Wildlife Refuge one afternoon this week. It's a point of land at the very edge of Aquidneck Island past the last of the Newport Beaches in Rhode Island. Miles of trails wind along the rocky Atlantic shore, bordered by thicket and meadow. The weather was spectacular. It was unseasonably warm, but a late afternoon storm threatened to come in off the sea, so the skies were brilliantly purple and grey. The views, at every turn, alternated from life-affirming to breathtaking. A chance encounter on the trail with a middle-aged couple in full formal wear (beautiful teal ballgown and a well cut tuxedo with a calla lily boutiniere) just delighted me. I can't think of a more perfect day or a lovlier place to have eloped.
There's still more. There was dinner with my cousins and my mama and Thing 1. The Red Sox are in the World Series. My Personal Chef and I trekked to a restored theater with friends to see the 1923 silent movie "The Hunchback of Notre Dame." Lon Chaney, a mighty Wurlitzer, friends, popcorn... What's not to love?
So. Much. Joy.
And still, it wasn't until sometime yesterday that I actually exhaled and let go of all that dread. It's like I have been expecting the gates of hell to unleash their full fury upon me at any moment. I did exhale though. I'm working on letting go of that fear. And I'm mindful of all that is wonderful around me. October, you will not get the best of me this year.
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