October is Obstructing My View

I seem to be in a funk called October. The events of past Octobers linger and haunt my mind, mixing together in a jumbled mess called life. The days of October weigh heavy on my heart and mind. I remember the first fundraiser for our family, in the early part of October 2005. I walked around the gym in awe of the support and love for our family, and in utter disbelief that this big shindig was for us, because Brian had cancer. It was my first big moment of realization that this was very serious. The whole day was surreal, and I had to keep reminding myself I was the beneficiary, the receiver instead of the giver. It was during that week that I asked Brian to stop working, to just take a break. He was deep into radiation treatments, but still feeling so-so. He was extremely fatigued, and many days he would muster up enough energy to teach all day, then literally come home and sleep until the next morning. He was giving every ounce of himself to his job and there simply wasn't anything left for us. It was a very difficult time in our lives, trying to find a way to fight cancer and keep living.

By October 2006, we were spending weeks at a time in the hospital. It was starting to become normal, leaving the kids and being in and out of doctor's offices and hospitals. It was during this time that I first met Amy Wilhoite's mom, also holding vigil at the hospital in hopes of offering some comfort and care. I wondered how we had come full circle to another year already, and how we were going to be able to keep up, knowing how much worse Brian's cancer was in just a year.

By October 2007, Brian couldn't walk or go to the bathroom on his own. His physical appearance last October was unsettling, probably the moments in which the girls realized just how bad this was. The steroids were causing significant swelling, and he was still missing his hair from the chemo. We made 2 trips to Chicago. When it was so warm last weekend, it made me remember the Chicago Marathon last year with record high temps. Brian was near miserable in his wheelchair all weekend, but he loved getting the chance to see Chicago and going to Wicked. Last October was so full of trips to Chicago and Columbia (he also had a craniotomy in Oct. 07), and the month ended with the dodgeball tournament. I remember shuttering to think how another full circle had come, and I spent many days wondering how we could possibly make it another year.

And here I am, a widow now for over 6 mos. In a sense, I am happy that Brian is gone. I look back on Octobers and see how each year brought him down so much more, and realize from last October that physically, there was not enough left in him to go another full circle. The circus before then had worn him down. I knew that, yet I hoped and prayed. I remember Brian crying because he was so upset about what his body was doing, and knowing that this wasn't quality of life, this wasn't what he would want. And I loved him so much, and I wanted more for him.

I teach Old Yeller during October. I haven't taught it now for 3 years because I was gone. This year I am finding it interesting to pick up and try to follow the past 3 years of subs who taught in my place. Even getting ready for Halloween has brought that goosebumpy feeling of knowing my Halloweens before were full of Brian being deathly sick.

I walked part way down the Halloween aisle at Walmart the other day. I turned around because there was a tombstone with a skeleton. I just sighed. I know that HE is in Heaven, but the thought of the cemetery and dead bodies and tombstones and ghosts, just the thought of death, really, seems to make that pit in my stomach swell. So I'm working on just enjoying the fall colors and the weather, which is beautiful, and I'm just taking one October day at a time.

I would wish October away, but then it will be November and that much closer to the holidays (and probably that much colder). I have avoided thinking about the holidays, even though I am starting to see signs of decorations and I know it is inevitable. Just when I am trying to keep my head above water, I find myself being drug under.

I ask your prayers tonight for a friend's sister-in-law who has melanoma. I also ask your prayers for quick sale of my old house.