Back in the day (ie: before dad died), I had carved out a nice little life for myself. I'd some how managed to maintain my friends from the age of five and build new friendships with some of the funniest and smartest people I know. I'd had my 2nd City writing shows, done my stand-up, written a sitcom and played in an improv troupe. I'd temped my way from 20K to a 110K career and managed to start IRAs, have a 401K and invest in property. I learned my neighborhood, found a vet, a salon, a favorite place for brunch, for take out, to shop. I discovered my parks, my favorite path to the lakeshore, my own personal shopping nirvana, and most importantly I'd found the church that brought me close to God.
I seemed to have it all there for a spell. And then I lost it. And that's ok. I remember in the early stages of my mourning process really coming to terms with how God can call us home at anytime. And while he called my father to his heavenly home, He had called me back to that of my family home. It wasn't easy giving up the life I had created, but it probably was the easiest decision I've ever made in my life. I remember Beth writing to me once about going through winter knowing that spring would be coming and that one day that spring would turn into summer, and I may even be so blessed as to find myself barefoot running through the yard of a home in A2.
So here I am. Six years later. The home in A2 a reality, and not only have I been blessed to run barefoot in it, I've been blessed to marry my best friend there.
And here I am - six years later with a successful business under my belt. And a salon. And a vet. And a favorite place to eat brunch, and to take-out.
And I'm so scared. I'm scared to give all these blessings voice. I'm scared of what happens if tomorrow the phone rings to news I can't control. I know that initial loss of dad and the waves it created will never be the same. The variables have shifted, I'm aware that life can change quicker than you'd think possible. And I'm certain that through faith, we can navigate all the hard things that will happen to us. I'm just scared.
Six years later and I think about how I've rebuilt everything from the ground up. This time of year is always the hardest. The countdown in my head starts. And each year all the memories remain the same, it's just the # at the beginning that changes.
Six years ago was one of the best falls I'd ever had. Football games, cider mills, haunted houses, the symphony. It was rich with joy and laughter and love and 'living'. I was living the life I'd wanted. The life I'd imagined and worked so hard for.
The years in b/w then and now have been a series of steps. I had to start all over - finding a job - making friends - dating - working - figuring out my career. It's just been a series of steps to get to this year. To move from spring to summer. And now, well now it's soon to be fall.
I'm just having a hard time this year merging the two thoughts processes. As my I start to enter the hard part of my mourning process, my brain won't let me forget that the last time I was this happy, this centered, this 'living', that I woke up one day and it was gone.
I drove to work that day, north on Lakeshore, and as I passed Grant Park I was talking to my mom on the phone. It'd rained all night and the leaves had really fallen from the trees. As I passed a series of trees, I noted to my mom how all the leaves had fallen. Then we hung up as I got to work. The next time I heard my mom's voice, a few hours later, she was so sad and in b/w tears and a panicked comfort she told me "Jos, your dad has fallen" - And that's the moment the best fall of my life turned into the darkest, coldest and longest winter on record.
Mom and I are always amazed how we can still have warm feelings associated with fall. Amazed how we can still enjoy it, consider it our favorite season and long for the comfort it brings. I think maybe we just don't talk about the part of it that breaks our heart.
When the leaves change I always marvel at their beauty. When the first wind comes and it's raining leaves, I always text Erin to tell her. But I still have a hard time when that first rain comes that and takes them all down.
I sit here wondering how to finish this. The writer in me wants to find the nice little bow that ties it all together. Looking at this though - it's not really a bow that's missing. I still need to find a church.
I can hear my mom saying I'm a spiritual being having a human existence. It's the human in me that gets scared that I'm going to lose everything I've worked for. While the spiritual side of me knows that nothing is mine to begin with. I need to start nurturing the spiritual side a little more.
And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
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