Thursday brings the official start to Fall. I absolutely love the Fall, it is without a doubt my favorite season. I love the warm, rich browns, reds, and yellows. I love fires in the fireplace and bundling up in blankets. I love rich, hot cocoa, a fresh-pressed apple cider, or a sweet, cinnamony hot-buttered rum (I will share my favorite recipe for this with you at a later date). I also love the holidays that occur during this season. I think Halloween is my favorite since I’ve always enjoyed dressing up, getting candy, and hearing stories on the paranormal even though when I’m scared my eyes tear up and I cry even if it’s not a truly scary story (it’s weird, I know). I love how fresh and crisp the air is and that it’s just the right temperature most days.
Fall is also one of the worst seasons for me. The days get short and the nights get long, too long, and too dark for me. I dread the coming cold (and I know it isn’t really cold where I live, heck it doesn’t even usually snow, but it’s colder that I like to deal with). Most of all though, it reminds me that I am alone. It reminds me that my family is 1,300 some odd miles away. That I don’t have a significant other to curl up with… Or a family of my own to visit a pumpkin patch and pick out a pumpkin and carve it with them… Or to cook a Thanksgiving dinner for (although I’m sure my puppies would be more than thrilled if I shared it with them). I have friends out here but many of them have their own family happenings or go back to their parents’ homes and I celebrate my holidays by myself.
I don’t come from a large family. Just my parents, my little sister, and I in our immediate family. My father was never close to his side of the family – his father and step-father both died before I was born, his mother lived in Florida and in her final years moved closer - to Washington. The brother he did get along with lived in Kentucky and died from AIDS when I was in high school. The brother he doesn’t get along with lived in Washington and I’ve only met him once, during the summer after I graduated high school . During the holidays, Grandma Hazel (father’s mother) was the only one to come visit and that was rare, maybe once every three years. On my mother’s side, her mom and dad, sister and brother all got along and lived about two hours away when I was young. They would come out for Thanksgiving and Christmas and my father would complain (the whole in-laws thing that is so often complained about…), but I always loved it. I wished there were more of us, like cousins (especially closer to my sister and mine’s age) or that my father’s side would come and stay with us for a bit. Unfortunately as my sister and I got older, my father’s mother was less able to travel (and passed away 3 years ago January) and my mother’s parents moved to Oregon and are also less able to travel. My mother’s brother was killed when my sister and I were in elementary school and her sister moved to Central California, then Oregon and now my mom’s family celebrates up there. That leaves my immediate family to celebrate now with me usually being gone for Thanksgiving.
I hope that one day I will have a family of my own that I can celebrate with. That my parents and sister will live close enough to come out for the holidays and that my husband’s family will too. And maybe if my kids have kids that they will all stay close enough to be home during this season. I know it’s wishful thinking especially in this day and age, but that’s what I’m wishing for. Until then, I will continue to beg friends to come celebrate with me, carve my own pumpkin, and cook ridiculous amounts of food for myself. I still love the fall though.
