Change of Seasons

Tomorrow is October 1st.

It’s a new month and a clear marker of a new season, yet another without Luke.

Don’t ask me why it’s hitting me so hard, but it truly is. Most days I just feel like I’m going through the motions, but other days (like today), I am so much more aware of the passing of time without my husband by my side.

He isn’t here to help me put up the fall decorations.

He isn’t here to make fun of me for making and eating pumpkin everything.

He isn’t here to roll his eyes when all I want to listen to is Norah Jones and Michael Buble as the crisp fall air drifts through the screen door.

He isn’t here to watch football and laugh at me when I’m screaming at the TV.

He isn’t here to eat all of my delicious homemade soups.

I won’t get to hear him tell me for the eightieth time that “no babe, this batch of tomato bisque is your best one yet!!”

He won’t be there when our nieces and nephews put on their Halloween costumes and giggle from pure excitement.

He won’t be in the annual pictures we take with the dressed-up kiddos.

I won’t smell his cologne on his winter coat hanging on the stair railing.

I won’t feel his warm legs against my ice cold feet (though he’s probably glad about this).

I won’t get to care for him during his bi-annual cold or stomach flu, and he won’t be there to bring me copious amounts of Gatorade and saltine crackers when I get the same bug the week after.

He isn’t here to open a bottle of wine and massage my feet when work is really stressful.

He isn’t here to cuddle me when I fall asleep on the couch by 9pm.

He isn’t here to dry any tears, sing me any songs, or tell me that I’m his whole world.

He isn’t here.

For any of it.

And I have nothing more to tell you than it really sucks.

Not having my person really, really sucks.