Fall is, and always has been, my favourite time of year.
I'm a sucker for new beginnings, starting over, bucket lists and everything of the like. And fall is when it begins. When the earth sheds what is no longer needed before going into hibernation, and beginning anew. It's also a reminder that no matter how things are going, at some point you're going to have to let go, make space, and build again.
Three years ago, I lost my grandfather in the fall. How I hated that there was beauty all around me, when a part of me had died.
Three years ago and five days later, I met my partner that same fall. How conflicted I was about being so happy despite my loss.
Every year, fall is bittersweet. It's a time when I hunker down on myself, feel things even more, and miss my grandfather deeply. But it's also a time of celebration; another year down, another anniversary; another trip around the sun in the very best of company.
Every year, fall is bittersweet. As my relationship grows and my heart grows even fonder, I'll miss him more than ever, because he never got to meet the man I'm with today. He will never meet the children I will bear. He will never hold them and cajole them and be their hero, like he was mine. (He will, somewhere, somehow. But it won't be here. And I was angry at that for a long time.)
It took me a long time to learn how to love, how to accept love, and how to navigate it all.
And though I'm still learning to accept the fact that I can have one love of my life, but not both at a time, fall remains my favourite. It will always bring back loss, but it also keeps me grounded in today, and reminds me to make the most of it. Of every. single. second.
Comments