Yesterday morning we had 20 degrees. By the time I returned home from work the sunflowers and cosmos had shriveled to blackened husks of their former glory. The beets and carrots were ok, but they are in the ground. Everything exposed was suddenly dead. At work, the lakes had tempered the air, keeping it from being as cold but frost was there nonetheless. As the day warmed, leaves began to fall, letting go and drifting without force or direction till they landed on the grass, wet with melting frost.
Last night we went to see Judy Collins in concert in Grand Rapids, with our friends Jeff and Cindy. I have to say Judy Collins was great. She is 70 some and her voice is nearly as good as it was back in the day. Afterwards we met with Sue and John and all of us went out for coffee which was really just an excuse to eat breakfast late at night. While we sat in the restaurant heavy wet flakes of snow began to run before the wind, slapping down on the wet ground, creating slush on the road, making the drive home a challenge for Jeff. I was thankful I didn't have to drive. I could barely stay awake and dozed most of the way home.
This morning the ground is covered by a thin veneer of snow, deep enough to hold tracks from the dogs running out to do their business but not deep enough to hinder movement. The next few days are supposed to be more of the same; cold, windy, chance of snow with no real accumulation. Soon enough the weather will moderate and autumn will return briefly, though in an altered state. By then we will be in November and the reality of winter will be a fact of life.
Karen is at work now. The store is sponsoring a 'Quiltorama' at the country club and there has been lots of activity related to getting ready, lots of stress for my woman who is already carrying the weight of hell on her shoulders. And last night was difficult; stress and being too tired and worried and afraid and having to begin the process of grieving the losses we will face in 10 days. This has been too much, even for Angelique. Today we are skating on the thinnest of ice, holding our breath to make ourselves lighter, hoping not to break through the brittle layer to the cold abyss below.
I worry for my wife. I don't know how to help her, don't know how to make happiness appear in our lives again. I don't know how to make light and hope blossom on Karen's face again. We try to talk but effective words escape us. Nothing we say offers solace. I struggle with the feeling I made the wrong choice, that somehow if I had chosen a different option Karen would be happier. But maybe she is right, none of the choices were good. We have to go on and looking back won't help. I try to tell myself we will never really know if I made the best choice. In life there seems to be only one thing that is guaranteed.
Karen won't be done till 7 pm. That's just too damn long today; for both of us. We both need sleep and release from our tensions and fears. We both need to find a way to let our tears flow. My head aches and I can only try to imagine how Karen feels. We know, but scarcely believe that our lives will get better. We feel we are already locked deep in winter with no hope of moderation or relief. Today we are the blackened shriveled cosmos and sunflowers and it is hard to believe in spring though we know life, in an altered state, will return again.
Thank you for the birthday and anniversary cards and wishes and gifts.
Peace, love, happiness, sunshine and the hope of spring, to all of you.
Mike
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