In my life, it's such a strange time for me right now. I feel happy with my life, but also have a strange sense of deja vu. My daughter is the same age I was when my mother took her life away. In a few days, I am going to be my mother's age when she died.
The air has the same crisp, cool breeze and startling harshness of the bright sun from that day, as we near the change of seasons. This change in the weather has always thrown me for a loop. Every year it trips my memory. I do welcome the change to cool weather, but it recalls unpleasant times. Just for a week or so, then I go on, and I'm fine.
This year the memories are lingering and giving me such a feeling of panic and foreboding. I am smothering my children with kisses and hugs. Relishing the time I have with them. Feeling like it could end any moment from a car accident, kidnapping or other tragic world event. I made Z. practice walking home from his new bus stop over and over again, so he wouldn't get lost. I was making him crazy. I wish I could just be a "cool, laid-back" kind of mom who lets her kids discover new freedoms gracefully. Anxiety disorder and PTSD are a bitch.
I believe the anniversary of 9/11, school starting for the kids, and A. and I being the same ages my mother and I were on that fateful day, have all come together to create these feelings of sadness, loss and anxiety. They too shall pass. The winter rain will be here soon to wash away the fall and drive away the crowds. I look forward to beach combing on the empty beaches with my family in tow, looking for that perfect shell or rock.
I feel fortunate to have such a wonderful, supportive, loving husband and friends to help me through these difficult times. Thank you, thank you friends! You know who you are. Stucco, you are my world. I love you!