Changing of the Seasons

The change of seasons. Something I used to anticipate, look forward to (except maybe winter) is now something that I dread. I feel this pit in my stomach, a sense of panic, and pure anguish as we head towards fall. Ariella died in spring. Part of winter and all of her spring was spent in the hospital. We didn’t pay attention to the change from winter to spring. It was unremarkable with Ariella fighting for her life. We have had about one full season without her. Evidence that time marches forward no matter how hard I will it to stop, to go backwards, to bring me back to happier times. This summer was excruciating. The days dragged. I had no interest in doing anything I used to do during the summer. Summer is made for families. The vacations, lazy days at the pool, amusement parks, carnivals. David and I went to a festival one weekend. Good music, good food. But families everywhere. Kids dancing, kids playing catch, kids running around. Ariella used to enjoy going to festivals and listening to live music. She would have had a blast. David and I had gone to events like that without her in the past. But now it’s different without her. She is noticeable absent. She should be here.

I used to view the changing of the seasons as a fresh start. A time to rejuvenate. Especially summer into fall. The start of a new school year, for both Ariella and me. A time for growth and new beginnings. Ariella always loved the fall. It was her favorite season. Her three favorite days are in the fall; her birthday, Halloween, and Thanksgiving. She loved decorating the house for fall, jumping in piles of leaves, playing outside in the cooler weather. It was once my favorite season as well. The spectacular colors. The smell of cinnamon permeating the air. The air becoming cool and crisp. Sweater weather. So many fun family activities took place in the fall. Apple picking. Enjoying hayrides, corn mazes, and pumpkin picking at local farms.

Now the changing of the seasons just takes me further away from Ariella. I am no longer longer looking forward to fall. It used to be the most magical season for me. Usually not too hot or cold (though not always the case in Maryland) and the landscape is blanketed with bright oranges, reds, and yellows. Fall always felt comforting and cozy. Like being wrapped in a soft blanket in front of a fire. Perfect for playing games, watching movies, or just reading a book. Also perfect for hiking and riding bikes and getting outdoors. There was nothing better than spending the day as a family at a farm or pick your own orchard and then curling up on the couch with my girl to relax on a cool fall evening.

Fall now feels cold and empty. Instead of being wrapped up in love I feel lost and alone. Vulnerable to the elements. Reminders everywhere of what I’ve lost. Of what I’m missing. Of whom I’m missing. I want to bury myself in a pile of leaves and not emerge until… when? Never I guess. Because there is no good time.

The changing of seasons is just further proof that life goes on. It doesn’t just stop when something tragic happens. No matter how much I don’t want it to, morning arrives each day. People continue to go about their business. I am going about my business as hard as it is because I have no other choice. I look around me and see all the people living their lives and it devastates me to know that I will never again live life pain free. I will never again be carefree, have unrestrained happiness, will never feel like my life is complete and perfect again. This is no way to live.

Today it has been four months since Ariella died. It also happens to be David’s and my wedding anniversary. I have no interest in celebrating. David and I never made a big deal of the day. We would usually go out to dinner but that was about it. We don’t exchange gifts. So it wasn’t a day that stuck out to Ariella. But last year when she heard us talking about it she wanted to give us something. It was the day before our anniversary so she didn’t have much time but managed to put together a very cute little gift for us.

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She had good reasons for the items she chose and it was such a sweet and thoughtful gesture. It is heartbreaking that I will never again receive one of her special homemade cards or gifts or drawings again.

I don’t feel much like celebrating anything. Holidays, birthdays, anything. They all just seem so meaningless. Just another day. Another day without my baby. Ariella made celebrations great. She gave special gifts and just loved decorating for any occasion. I don’t want to celebrate without her. I don’t want to acknowledge birthdays when she will never have another one. Special days just aren’t special without her.

Days are colorless and devoid of any sense of purpose. One day is just like the next regardless of the date on the calendar. Day after day after day. Endless misery and sorrow. Just trying to survive until bedtime. Only to wake up and do it all over again. It feels futile, like Sisyphus rolling the boulder up the hill for his endless punishment. Each day feels like trying to dig out of the depths of hell using a shovel, only to be buried deeper and deeper.

This weekend we had a table for Ari’s Bears at a local festival. Lots of kids helping us out. And yet it still was missing someone. The most important someone. The reason why Ari’s Bears is in existence. The reason we were there at the festival. She would have been in her element. But we have to do it without her. It is so painful to do it without her. People say they can’t imagine losing a child. I still can’t imagine it. I know how it feels right now, but trying to imagine a lifetime of this? It doesn’t seem survivable.