I hate to be a downer here, but November is a stressful month for me. It signals the coming of the holidays, a time without certain family members. I lost my mom and my sister to breast cancer in December, 17 years apart, and I can’t help feeling that sense of trepidation November brings reminding me of their loss.
I love the smells of November – that just-right scent of browning leaves, the apple freshness in the air. I love the light, a richer orange to every sunrise. I love pumpkin pie and turkey. I just wish Mom and Audrey were here to share them with me.
These warmish November days were the last ones my sister could walk, and we’d crunch through the leaves in the backyard and laugh together, despite her pain. We had long conversations about the cycle of life, how we were witnessing this part where everything was going into a long sleep. I often think about how she herself soon entered her next cycle of life, and what it might have felt like contemplating that.
With my husband and daughter, I think how lucky I am to still have beloved family members. Grateful that I can still feel love, despite my anger at the disease that stole my best friends.