FALLing Apart

‘Tis the season…the pumpkin season that is.

Yesterday I saw a post where Pumpkin Oreos were in the stores. My fall attitude kicked into gear. I had visions of pumpkins dancing in my head as I skipped out of work into the low humidity, fall fresh day. I could literally taste the Pumpkin Latte and feel the tart, crisp bite of an apple picked right from the tree. I could hear the leaves crackling under my feet and sense the warmth offered by a bon-fire or a nice hoodie sweatshirt. It was intoxicating.

Then, with the force of a Mack truck careening down a mountain road with no brakes, it hit me. I loved fall because….fall was my favorite time of year because…looking at pumpkins reminded me of my wedding day, my wedding pictures and of finding that perfect golden leaved tree under which to say, “I do.” Fall was Boston and New England. Fall was anniversaries and promised trips. Fall was apple picking. Fall was tucking cold feet under warm legs. Fall meant that hot chocolate nights and scrabble games in front of the fire were just around the corner. But that was then and this is now and what fall used to be is no more.

I didn’t feel intoxicated any longer. I felt hung over. Emotional hang-overs are as bad as the real ones. The air slipped from my lungs in a big UMPH. My purse slipped from my shoulder as my shoulders slumped. I shuffled to the car. I epitomized dejection.

Luckily my other job, my home job was WAY too busy to be dwell on fall delights or the lack thereof. Left work late, I rushed home (late), took the boy and the separation-anxiety-riddled wee one and rushed right back out so I could get him to swimming. From there I went home..in a tizzy. I proceeded to make dinner for 2 nights. (Make is a stretch…I opened jars and boiled noodles and doused with cheese before baking.) I then put way bags and bags of pre-cooked, cubed chicken for later this winter. Dinner was baking so I sat down and started making some bows. Toilet broke so I fixed that. Re-dressed the toddler who broke commode. I then ate (yes, I washed my hands). Back to the bows. Remembering a coupon that expired the next day I rushed upstairs to use THE COMPUTER to create a Christmas gift that is no longer a surprise since we have only 3 main rooms in our tiny abode. I had to detour and step over the young child who had reached her melt down stage. Rectified her drama or at least tried. Headed back upstairs where I surprisingly conquered 2 technical issues with minimal cussing. Started itching up there and discovered fleas. Fretted over said fleas; which, led me to change sheets in an attempt to ward off the worst of those varmints. Laid out clothes for little sassy. From there, I proceeded to have a quick fight with big sassy pants. Demanded everyone go to sleep. Headed back downstairs where I discovered by own sheets still in the washer and my back up sheets in the hamper in front of the dryer. Sigh, this meant I had to dry sheets in order to sleep. While the dryer was doing its thing I made lunch for the next day, straightened up the kitchen and sat down to make a few more bows. I couldn’t make any bows because play-doh paraphernalia had invaded my work space. Handled that. THEN I could go back to my bow. Dryer dinged, put sheets on my bed and laid down. DING. E-mail. Slight technical issue with my order. Fix that. Back to the bed. ( I swear I wanted to do all that in a run on sentence just to illustrate how I felt all night. I did hold my breath as I re-read it. That was about the same effect. Re-read it and try it.)

It was the settling down that did me in.
My maple leaf hand soap triggered (see I told you I washed my hands) another ‘it’s fall’ moment. Now I am sad and tired and worn out. The weekends activity, the scheduling from hell the day before and now this day and left me acutely aware that I was one person in a world meant to be orchestrated by two. There was no more divide and conquer. There was just a divide which left me to conquer. You don’t think so much about that when you are doing it….it’s when you slowdown that all the doing catches up with you. I didn’t do anything heroic or out of the ordinary this day. That’s the part that scared me. This was a normal day.

When going through a divorce, lots of things make you sad. You are sad at failing at something. You are hurt/angry/mad/confused most of the time and mostly all at once. It’s expected to miss the big things like companionship and parenting help and, well love. You know you’ll miss your love and being in love. You know that will happen. It’s the little things that trip me up the most. The memories invoked by all the tale-tell signs of Fall. I didn’t see that coming. I didn’t expect that silly things like pumpkin and fall smells would no longer be magic. I didn’t know that buying those pumpkin spice M&M’s or that maple frosting would literally hurt.

While contemplating all that I realized that there were other little things that I missed. I missed having someone on the other side of the bed when I was making it so I didn’t have to run around like I was participating in a Chinese fire-drill at a red light while in a VW bug. I missed having a distraction for the nosy little monsters I live with while using the computer to create something that I hoped would make them smile. I missed having a fall trip, talking about a fall trip and actually going to somewhere with crisp air, fall colors and new foods. I missed tag teaming pick-ups and drop-offs. Oh how I missed someone touching the meat because I hate dealing with meat. Hate. I miss asking about someone’s day or being asked about mine when the house finally quiets down. I miss flopping around on the bed when I can’t sleep until the other person mumbled, “Can’t sleep?” to which I would say, “Oh…you’re up…” and proceed to start chatting. I miss hearing and having idle chit-chat. I miss planning out the weekend on Tuesday because there is so much to get done in the days in-between.

As these things tend to do a spiral of pity-party-type-whining began. I miss my funky, eclectic wedding pictures that were personal and crafted so carefully in vintage window frames. I miss the smile that I had that day. I missed making someone laugh as hard and as made him laugh that day. I miss that my red hat, Harvard style scarf, down vest and jean jacket all reminded me of then and won’t be so much fun to wear now. I can’t do anything about those things. So I sat at the table and made some more bows.

I didn’t cry so I must be getting better. Does it count if I wanted to?

The spiral was shorter and not as all-encompassing so that must be a good thing…right?

That was me…FALLing apart.



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