October: The Winds of Change
“Real and proverbial doors had shut. Softly. I didn’t have to slam anything. The winds of change did that for me.” Linda Durham
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest. Shakespeare 73rd Sonnet
Yellow leaves falling and fading into winter portray old age in Shakespeare’s 73rd Sonnet, inferring that the autumn months are the time of year for dying. Nothing lasts forever; everything dies. But autumn is also about abundance and a time of plenty. It’s the time of year filled with celebrations of the harvest. That was the type of fall I knew and held close to my heart until one fateful day in October 2008, when the perception of my favorite autumn month changed forever when it was shattered by death. Life can be so abruptly cruel.
October 24, 2009, I was with Randy, spending time with a life-long friend, sitting at a table editing music on my laptop, when I felt a peculiar feeling as if a battery were dying in me. I stood up to lie in the bedroom when I felt lightheaded and fainted, landing on my dog Kashmere, who cushioned my fall, protecting me from injury. Fortunately, our friend is a doctor, and I was okay from the mysterious fainting spell, but the next day, I was out of sorts and melancholy. I remembered it was the 24th of October, the first anniversary of my brother Harry’s death from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to his head. He said goodbye along with the yellow leaves Shakespeare referenced in his 73rd Sonnet against the backdrop of a fall sunset making way in the crisp autumn air for early twilight, readying for winter. All were lost in the never-ending cycle of life.
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