My first thoughts are football, pumpkins, Sunday drives in the North Georgia Mountains, the taste of Maker's Mark enjoyed by an outdoor fire, sweaters, cool crisp air that replaces the humidity of the summer's sweltering temperatures.
A time of to celebrate the harvest, bake pies and warm our hands around mugs of apple cider.
Aromas of vanilla, cloves, and brown sugar have always made me think of fall as the sweetest time of the year.
Sweet rich colors of gold and red on the maple trees outside my windows.
Sweet scented candles.
Fall festivals and caramel apples and hayrides...all sweet cherished memories.
Time to wind down, take on a slower pace, to linger outside until the last bit a light is erased from the sky....to rest up before the entertaining season of Thanksgiving and the round of holiday parties I look forward to every year.
This year, the season is bittersweet.
The fall season of 2009 I will remember as the time I learned that my dear friend had cancer that metastasized to her liver. And I'll remember the quiet, more measured tone of her voice, the careful, deliberate words she used as she repeated her oncologist's prognosis to me.
She has the best laugh in the world.
It's full of life and joy and totally lacking self-consciousness. Sweet happiness echoing from her soul with no need for words nor expression.
Just four days ago, she was at my kitchen table pouring through medical websites, facing the test results and upcoming appointment with her doctor, still laughing through it all.
Hopeful.
Today, when she told me that she was too anemic to take her chemotherapy treatment, her tone was one of tired frustration.
Her doctor has given her very little hope.
She can't accept that.
I can't accept that; we are planning to travel to M.D. Anderson in Houston as soon as possible and speak to specialists there.
Or the Mayo Clinic.
Or Europe.
We had a great time the last time we left the country together; I wish our future travel was under better circumstances.
In the meantime, when she's up to it, I'm going to suggest all the fall rituals I can think of to raise her spirits.
Perhaps we'll start with a trip to Helen for a bite at the Troll Tavern.
If you happen to be on one of those narrow mountain roads and notice two women in a convertible acting a little crazy...it just might be us.
Laughing and crying.
Our time bittersweet.
Posts
