08.

Meggan,

Autumn was always my favorite season. Something about the crisp air, the strong winds, the gray hues and cloudy days... These elements stimulate my inspiration. Like the horizons, there's a limitlessness about this season. 

This year has been different though. The smell of the cool air, the crunchy under foot, holing up in coffee shops, and dreaming big all spark memories of experiencing them to the full with a dear man by my side last year. This fall I dreaded walking outside because just a breath of this beautiful season and my chest felt tight, my eyes cast down -- I was right back in those rich memories and then flashing back to the present where all of that was lost. 

I've been so grateful for your understanding ear and gentle heart through this. The memories won't always be so potent but this year they have been and it's nice to know that someone understands the sadness and the hurt. 

Another friend of mine was so sad to hear that my favorite season had been made so bittersweet for me that he set out to try and replace the sad memories with happy ones. The relentless love of a friend is especially sweet companionship in hard times. 

Time passes. Winter temperatures have officially set in here in the Midwest. Creatures big and small are going to be hibernating in the woods over the hills. The last of the harvest is being collected on the surrounding farms. The ticks should have been long gone by now but this year they lingered. I got Lyme Disease for the second time in my life. Staying home from work, giving myself time to recover, I walked down to the mailbox in the afternoon and breathed in the last fall day of the year and guess what? It didn't bring back anything sad. It felt fresh, familiar, limitless like it always used to. Ahhh. My Father redeems all things -- even the seasons. 

Chelsea

PS: This one morning was hauntingly beautiful. It tasted of hope, of promise, of fresh mercies.