I’ve named it………...it’s the “mean season”.
It starts November 17th, Patrick’s Birthday, and doesn’t end until January 11th, the anniversary of the accident. In between come all of the holidays that were more fun when Bill and Patrick were here.
Thanksgiving was always fun and as I look back, I realize how much of a help my men were when it came time to prepare for the traditional meal. We were always blessed to be joined by much family and friends and the memories I hold now are forever etched in my mind. Christmas was a great time too! I took great delight decorating our home and loved the oohs and aahs that came when it was complete. Bill, (reluctantly at first) eventually became immersed in the magic and wonder of the season even adding each year to our collection of decorations himself. Then would come our trip to the mountains for New Years. Sometimes we wound up in local mountains while other times we made it to Steamboat Springs. Family members would inevitably join us to put together puzzles, play charades and gather by the fire to ring in the New Year. Now, it’s Will’s birthday on the 31st and Bill and Patrick’s absence adds the bitter to the sweet.
With each year that’s passed since the accident there has been a time when the skies seemed grayer and I’ve felt heaviness on my shoulders that won’t go away. As hard as I try to shake it, it just won’t budge. Giving it a name gives it credibility. No, I’m not going crazy! It’s something to reckon with. It forces me to look at it directly and face it even though it’s ugly. Will the “mean season” ever disappear? I doubt it. Maybe the skies will be less gray. Maybe the heaviness that I feel will become lighter. Maybe the “mean season” will give way entirely to a season with a new name.
To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heavens. Ecclesiastes 3:1