I know some people who embrace change with reckless abandon, certain that all shifts bring some good. I know others who fear it more than anything, except perhaps death itself. And here I sit, in the middle of some pretty massive change and I'm not sure what to make of it. Fortunately for you people, I'm not of a mind to wax too philosophically about it. Because - and you can put this on a bumper sticker and make a mint - change just is. Fall is particularly poignant, I think, because the changing leaves harken new back-to-school jeans and school supplies. But there's also a certain melancholy in the air for me as fall approaches. There's so much going on around me but my eye keeps slipping towards the end of this month, which is rapidly approaching. My feelings, in the meantime, are floating upwards, settling just below the surface, ready to explode at the slightest stimulus, the gentlest poke with a stick. Right after September ends, October begins, and I wonder if I'll ever get back a time when it's just another month, instead of the month in which my mother died and everything changed more than I ever imagined. Am I dwelling on this? Am I boring people with it? Two years later and shouldn't I, as a super-modern-humor be "cured" of grief by now? If life is about progress, then I should note that the sadness is by no means constant, that it comes now in waves and now it's almost seasonal. But this is the season.
It's harder to walk through this in Ann Arbor, away from all my fabulous friends. In a cafe, with a skim decaf latte (damn you, Weight Watchers!) and not enough food in my belly. But there you have it.
Oh, and did I mention it's raining here today?