Scott died over six months ago now. How have I survived this long? I’m OK most of the time, except when I’m not. The permanency of his death has started to settle in, making me feel as if I’m trapped in a fish tank, unable to breathe. Except I am able to breathe, somehow. It’s a secret talent I didn’t know I had.
Autumn is the season of nostalgia for me, every year. The smells of the desiccating leaves and the first wood fires of the season, the crispness in the air. Even the dusty smell of the heat kicking on in our 200-year-old flat. I love venturing out into the newly-chilled air, and also being all cozy inside at home. It should be the season for cuddling on the couch and reading, but Purrcules is stubbornly illiterate. She prefers watching the washing machine in action.
I also love the foods of fall. Scott and I loved them together. I’d make him pumpkin soup, roasted brussels sprouts, squash casserole, roasted chestnuts, pumpkin pie. When the cold really settled in, it was time for homemade glühwein, raclette, and fondue. Melted cheese could make any day into a special occasion. I haven’t yet learned how to get excited for these things alone.
On rainy days, I’ve been wearing Scott’s raincoat. It’s much more waterproof than mine. He didn’t own it for very long before he got sick, so it doesn’t smell like him the way his old winter coat does. I’ve gotten rid of most of his clothes by now, but I’m keeping that winter coat until I have inhaled every last drop of his scent.
This is so beautiful, Jul. Love you so much x
Thanks, Em. xo
Beautifully written and so touching. Hugs to you !
Thanks, Laurie! xo
I can’t imagine how hard it must be with every new season that Scott is not there, but I am very glad that you can share your thoughts in this space. Sending you big hugs from Bremen.
Thanks, Mandi. It’s strange to be writing about these things rather than international trips and funny signs, but it feels useful somehow.
I love the foods of autumn too, and I’m glad they hold happy memories for you – thank you for sharing them. I really don’t know what to say, but I send hugs.
Thank you, Christie. xo
So, so strange that time marches on without him. How appropriate to reflect on this in the fall… indeed with the sort of musty smell of things past in the air. But it’s also such a BEAUTIFUL time of year, with sunlight streaming through alleys and trees in the city in unexpected and glorious ways. Thinking of you! And Scott.
So many days I leave the house and think that the day is TOO beautiful. Like, the burden of appreciating it is too much. WTF?