A beginning to an end

Fall time is amazing for me.  I love the coziness it brings.  Albeit celebrating fall in Arizona is completely different than how I remember fall in Connecticut.  I went from watching the leaves change colors and jumping into a pile of freshly raked leaves in my front yard as a child to putting pretend orange leaves on my windows and making chicken soup in 100+ degree weather.

Fall is also a busy time for me.  And I love it.  It solidifies my sense of community and belonging. I love football season, Halloween and gathering around the table for Thanksgiving dinner.  I love it all.

Fall eight years ago was unfortunately my darkest time.  The events and experiences that I was forced into ripped away my ability to love fall time for that year.  It was a somber time and a difficult time.  Every year for certain "anniversaries", I would write.  I would sometimes share my writing on social media and sometimes keep things to myself.  I even used my experience as my inspiration for my final project in a short story class at Arizona State University.  Writing has been my go to place for healing.  I may not be the most eloquent writer, but there is something about leaving a part of me on a work that helps me find light where initially there was none.  And I think that is why I continue to attempt to write something profound each year to continually find myself yet again...instead of allowing myself to go back to that dark place.  I can see measured growth this way.

And so as this year of fall has begun (100+ degree weather be damned), I thought it would be fitting to experience this growth almost all at once and share it here.  Perhaps others can see the hope that exists after great tragedy, or if anything, to have everything in one place for once and for all.