Seasons
This time of year is strange for me. It rattles with the skeleton bones in my closet and weeps with previous years' tears. I have my most favorite and most dreaded moments bundled together in October. Living in Utah adds complication to the mess: Autumn is my favorite season by far, so October should be prime time for me. In Utah, however, October is more like the beginning of winter than it is the best part of Fall.
I hate this state.
It's not just the weather in Utah. My calendar has been marred by other events--unpleasant ones. My father died a couple of years ago on Halloween. It used to be my favorite holiday of the whole year. It's kind of hard to get into decorating with ghosts and bats when you associate the day with seeing your only family member lying cold and stiff in a hospital bed with a tube protruding from his slack mouth. I ran the tips of my fingers over his tattoo--a little smiling devil with his nickname (my name) below it--and I noticed how cool and crepe-like the skin was. He had lost so much weight so quickly when the cirrhosis took over. That was the last time I saw or touched him. He was cremated a couple days later.
So, you can imagine that I am not big on the celebration, now. The events following my father's death are equally horrible, but that's a tale for another time. Maybe in a book.
I am coughing almost constantly right now. I cough so hard that I'm almost retching. I clearly need to get some drugs or something. For now, I think it's going to have to be Alka-Seltzer Plus and a few hours of sleep.