Falling into Fall

I could feel it as I woke up this morning and pulled on his Utah sweatshirt. The crispness in the air. I bit into a juicy, sweet peach. I love peaches. I love sweatshirts. Fall is definitely coming. Yet it hurts.  I somehow don't love these things as much without him. One thing I've realized since Marshall died is that besides holidays and birthdays, the changing of the seasons is one of the hardest times during the year. It REALLY hurts. It hurts to not have him here to share in our son's first day of kindergarten and to laugh at my rookie parenting mistakes as I send my kid off in the world for the first time. Here I go into the cold season again without my human heater to keep me warm.

I can be very strong and together around others. Especially around my son. Every time he sees my tears, he says, "mom- dad wants us to be happy!" If anyone in the world wants us to be happy of course Marshall does. So I will let my tears fall on my keyboard as he is busy playing in another room- without his dad. He often wishes he was here to play with him as I wish he was here to talk to and laugh at and with me. And yet Marshall's old mitt and ball sit untouched. As much as my head knows that we are to move forward happily, my heart sometimes wants to be buried in the cold ground next to his. Good thing I have a strong mind that likes to dominate my heart. He taught me to use my heart more and I miss his teachings. I hope his soul can still teach my broken heart some things once in a while. Sometimes I curse my heart for being so weak to fall in love with him. I was often guarded against guys growing up, so why did it have to fall for him? See, I knew I had my guard up for all those years for a reason. So I could avoid being so heart broken as I am now.

I hesitate a bit to share this and the music because I cried through it all so it's not my best performance, but I promised some friends across the country I would. We got through his birthday thanks to others. I think he loved it. So many family and friends singing HIS beautiful lyrics and songs. I am so glad he tuned his instruments and didn't let his music die within him. I even sang Beautiful Heartbreak, the last song he sent me. The money we raised is going to another leukemia fighter. If we can keep this benefit going, I hope I can get through the songs next year without crying and losing my place every time. Thank you to every single person who put in the effort to create something beautiful this year for Music for Marshall and all who supported Spenser in his fight and our family in our grief.

It's probably a good thing I just started another grief group. This season's change is seeming to be the hardest yet. I think it is because we are entering the season when he died and was buried last year. I just don't want to face it alone. Last year there were many people around and this year I am sure I will visit his grave alone. I am mad at him for leaving me to raise our son, take care of the house and cars, and try to navigate this world and the rest of life. It should be against the rules that your husband get sick for four years and then dies right after you marry him. That's all I'm saying. We were just beginning. Why did the beginning have to be the end?

Today is the Y vs the U game, which is what we did for our second date (our first date we went country dancing lifts and all and he spouted off his memorized lines of Ralph Waldo Emerson). It's the only day of the year we would act as rivals and I would cheer for blue and he would cheer for red as we cuddled. This year as I got accepted to a grad school program at the U and he is gone, I'm not really sure who I should cheer for anymore. Such is life since he died. Many small, insignificant decisions have been sometimes hard for me to make. And the much bigger, important decisions !? Forget it. I am working on that. I hope I can get better at remembering what it was like to make decisions on my own. Yet I also thank him for giving me the perspective of just how often we make such big deals over trivial things and what really will matter when life is over. At least Kez is a cuddler at this stage of his life. That's what Fall is good for too.

People can be jerks to single moms. Especially when they don't know what we've been through. Sometimes I can't blurt out a very quick version of our story fast enough to avoid the misjudgments. Sometimes I don't want to talk about it at all so I just let people look on and misjudge. I wish he could come back just for a day so I could tell him all about it. I could also tell him about all we've done this year and how strong we've become and thank him for that. I would beg him to stay. To teach his son all the wonderful qualities he had. To teach him his love of music and guitar. His optimism and divinity. All the qualities I admired about him. Maybe that's why he's our angel now. I should have fallen for someone of lesser quality. At least they would still be alive. That probably sounds terrible, but that's how I feel as the cold bites my toes this morning. I'm also extremely grateful for how very hard he pursued me 7 years ago and how he convinced me to marry him because without that first step I wouldn't have gotten to know him so well and I wouldn't be who I am now. Now I'm going to soak in yet another bath hoping I can warm up myself and numb the pain.

I also felt another feeling as I was wrapping up this blog this morning. It was a distinct, very warm pressure on my right arm. I really want to believe that his spirit is still around us sometimes. Yet even that belief doesn't take away the tremendous pain that his body is not and that is what sparked these ramblings. I am sure his spirit misses its' body and all the things he could do with it. He inspires me to make the most of this life and try to love these moments while I still have them.