Into the fall

We’ve turned the corner from summer into fall, Halloween replaced by Christmas decorations. The nights and mornings on the East Coast have taken on that chill, inviting warm soft blankets and fireplaces if you are lucky to have them.

I’ve always loved the soft white lights appearing on trees and in windows at this time of year. Their warmth contrasting the crisp air, hinting of beautiful white snowfalls to come.

Thanksgiving is coming quickly now to start off the holiday season, a time that can enhance our happiness in good times, and accentuate our sadness in lower times.

I am hopeful for peaceful and joyful holidays this year. I’m feeling cautiously optimistic for a better year than last.

Last Thanksgiving, as if the first holiday post separation wasn’t hard enough, three of the four of our nuclear family caught covid. The day was spent mostly in separate rooms and beds.

Still sick on Christmas Eve, I found myself being yelled at by my husband well into the evening hours before he left to his new apartment. Christmas morning found me in a sleep deprived haze of illness, deep sadness, and feelings of despair.

I had pleaded with my husband for kindness and care, for consistent apology and reassurance after his betrayal of trust, for just that one week from Christmas to New Years. In desperation, I even asked him to lie to me or fake it if he had to. I needed to feel loved, taken care of, valued, and safe.

Sadly, he responded to my pleas saying, “I just can’t do it. I can’t give you what you want.” On Christmas Day, he told me he had gone to multiple stores trying to buy me a gift, but that he couldn’t do that either. He told me, “I cannot play the betrayer to your betrayed.”

On New Years Eve, he texted at 11:40pm from his apartment asking if he should drive over at midnight for New Years or just call the kids on the phone. Hadn’t he seen the end scene of “When Harry Met Sally” hundreds of times when I’d played it to fall asleep?

We wound up arguing - by text - straight through the start of the New Year.

I cried when I discovered the Miley Cyrus New Years’ Eve special hadn’t cut to show the ball dropping in Times Square. I think it was the first year ever that I missed it. I cried. Again.

A year later now, although still facing frequent battles with him, I hope I can be healthy and enjoy all the wonderful people and blessings in my life. That I can absorb the love and loyalty of my children, my family, and friends - all the amazing, kind people who stood by me this past year, who made me feel loved, taken care of, valued, and safe.