The Grief Diaries: Fall

Andrew liked fall. I don’t have official confirmation, but based on the things he loved, I think I could make the case. As those things, football, the state fair, Halloween, come to life this year, we are reminded both of what he loved and what we’ve lost. Last spring, as the buds began to appear, I told my therapist I was worried about fall, about everything leading up to it: his birthday, the memories of chemo treatments and hospital stays, the return of football, and the arrival of the dreaded October. She told me those were tomorrow problems, that we could tackle when they arrived. Well, those tomorrow problems are here, and like a checkout conveyor belt, they keep coming. Although the humidity of summer has waned, grief now fills the air around us. I won’t lie. I feel heavy. And sad. And mad.

I didn’t think I would ever want to spend another Sunday afternoon watching football. The idea that we could have a fantasy league without him was unimaginable. Seeing a movie in the theater, how could I ever do it again? But I watch NFL Redzone and wear my Eagles gear. I manage my Carolina Fat Cats and wonder what he’d have named his fantasy team. I’d like to talk to him about Bill Belichick coaching the Tar Heels and hear his take on this crazy political landscape. I wish I could go with him to the fair, or an Icepack hockey game, or ask him about movies I know he’d see. I wonder what he might do for Halloween. He’s not here and yet he’s everywhere.

In July, I flew to Orlando to spend a couple of days with my brother and his family at a house they rented in New Smyrna Beach. On the flight, I ended up in a seat over the wing, which was a bit of a bummer, as it obscured my view of the miniature world below. As the ground got closer, I watched as the geometric designs of roads, fields, and lakes became an ever-changing diorama of tiny things. The flight was smooth until right before we landed when we hit that daily Florida afternoon rain shower and the turbulence bounced us through the clouds. As we continued our descent, my audiobook narrated a different scene from the one playing out in front of my eyes. Then I saw it: a rainbow. I don’t usually take photos from the plane, but I wanted to capture it. So beautiful. I didn’t have much time to perfect the shot, so I snapped a quick pic and forgot about it. Hours later, lying centered in my borrowed bed, I remembered. When I looked, I was disappointed. You could barely see the rainbow. It’s there, if you know where to look, but the forefront of the photo is the grimy, I mean absolutely filthy, plane window. That image, as imperfect as it is, perfectly captures my life. The beauty is still there, and so is the joy, but it’s forever marred. The rainbow will never be as clear as it used to be.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate the opportunity to share my thoughts, my feelings. If you are unsure about how to support someone living with grief, that is understandable. What I can tell you is that we all love to talk about Andrew; you will never make us sad by mentioning his name.

Before you go…our new fantasy football league this season, managed by our fantastic new commissioner, Elisabeth, had an uneven number of teams. We added Team Easy Win, which we’ve done before and as the season goes on, with injured players and bye weeks, and no manager it should be a guaranteed win. Our league uses an auto draft to draft for us. In the last several years, Andrew figured out a way to set his draft so he could auto draft Jalen Hurts and other Eagles players. This year, Team Easy Win drafted three Eagles players: Quarterback Jalen Hurts, Tight End Dallas Goedert, and Kicker Jake Elliott, and even managed to get a win in the first week of the season (sorry Michael). I think we all know who is managing that team.