Autumn has come to New England and as Anne Shirley said, “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” But I have a slight caveat. Both my youngest child and myself are facing some medical issues that require big, ol’ invasive tests. His appointment is next week, mine the week after. I’m finding that I can’t shelve the unease I’m feeling to get much done. Do you find that anxiety kills your ability to write? It really does a number on mine.

If you’re a regular reader or you know me in real life, you know that I lost my 17 year old daughter in 2021 to a rare, almost asymptomatic brain vein abnormality. Her loss ripped through our lives and reordered the universe. It also solidified for me that life is incredibly fragile. When we lost her, the veil between life and death went from a blackout blind to a lace curtain. Death is in the room now, sitting in the corner, doing the crossword and sipping tea.

We Americans don’t do death. We’re no good at it. Mortality is failure, and we like to win. If you asked the average man in the street, he’d tell you that we all die some day, but if you could see his thoughts, you’d spot that there’s only a tiny space that he allows that reality to live inside. We’re a nation in avoidance, refusing to accept that our ends are inevitable. We push those thoughts away so death, when it comes, is an enemy.

Like most moms, I’m the family nurse. My first career, in human services, required that I gain certifications in first aid, medications etc. so I do have some actual medical knowledge. Pair that with my natural curiosity and my voracious reading habits and you have a non-professional nurse in the house. With that role comes the weight of responsibility. Sickness is my enemy, burden and responsibility. Any failure, is mine alone. I know that’s not rational, but it feels true all the same. I feel the weight of it even while acknowledging that it’s not sound.

Anxiety, the pirate queen of unsound thought, is an old companion of mine. Normally, I push through and still get stuff done. But I’m not 100%. Too many losses, the world in too much turmoil. I can’t hold her off. So I decided to give myself a break this October. I’ve been puttering in my garden, enjoying the gentle metamorphosis of the foliage all around us (New England in the fall really can’t be beat) and taking a break.

Come November, I am back to the grind. I’m hoping to have a real first draft ready for Christmas. Blessing and peace to all of us as winter approaches. As the days shorten, I hope the season brings you the comfort of warm rooms, good company, and bright days.