Fall is arguably the most beautiful time of year; a kaleidoscope of crispness in each dropping leaf. Except the thing that makes fall so beautiful is essentially death. The leaves die with an exquisite vibrancy that fades into peaceful stillness.
The truth is, death and I are not pals. I struggle with the unmoving finality it brings, and that’s just not something it seems willing to change. Death is a total jerk.
Two years ago tonight my family lit up the phone lines to each other because my dad was in an accident.
Two years ago tonight I was someone else and we didn’t know the way the story would end.
Life has no pause button.
The leaves just keep changing colour. The only thing that seems to affect change… is more change.
In this world of immeasurably unending beauty, I try everyday, to look for the good despite the sullied ugliness that we humans create. Because my dad taught me to do that.
I want to teach my daughter the way my dad taught me. To look for goodness and find the rainbows in falling, perfect leaves. To laugh at the finality that death attempts to bring, because it’s not true.
And really, death is a total jerk.
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