Wake Me up when September ends...

And the Past,

it knocks on your door,

 and throws stones at your window

 at 4 in the morning...

-Anna Nalick

September. Back again so soon? Like clock work I woke up feeling nauseous- somehow before my alarm. Got myself a breakfast soda and fired up my Mac. Sure enough the little screen tells me it's September 1st. I should have known from the feeling in my stomach. After fighting the urge to climb back into bed, I took a cold shower (not by choice), and drove to work. I tried to remind myself that September 2008 turned out well. I was happy for the most part and anytime I felt the ache start to surface- I was pleasantly distracted and pushed it aside. As much as I'd like to- I'm doubtful that I'll pull that off this year.

Given that most of my readers don't know how the last week of August has gone for me- coupled with the fact that I am not able to write/email/blog/transcribe my avalanche of a life at the moment- please know that I'm already feeling like my life is about to fall apart. Forget about the fact that September itself usually tries to drown me in memories. I'd love to be wrong- but it looks like it's going to be a long month. But- Fingers Crossed just in case.

September hurts because I miss those I've loved and lost. September hurts because it seems like the golden month for things to go wrong. September hurts because its always a transition month for me. September just usually hurts. 

Every year I try to actively scam and scheme my way out of aching. I think about my grandparents passing. I think about my Grandma Pat (short for Patricia of course) who I'd visit every Monday while my Mum cleaned her house. I think about all the things we had to get done in one day- like play with her beads, drink coffee with a spoon, eat cookies hidden in the freezer, and use the hokey pokey (this fuzz picking up "vacuum"). Always quite the list of chores. Enough time has passed where I can think of these things and laugh or smile. But it wasn't that long ago that the thought of any of these things would make me think of the picture I drew that I never got to give her. Or my Grandpa, yes we just called him grandpa, who would take me/us for rides in his Cadillac. He'd bring us Easter egg doughnuts from Dunkins. He came to dinner every Saturday bringing "special bread" (scali bread with sesame seeds) and a gallon of ice cream (usually heavenly hash or rocky road). Although I haven't eaten heavenly hash or rocky road ice cream since his last visit, I have made progress. The more inner demons I conquer the less I think about the last time I saw him in the hospital bed dying of cancer, barely recognizable. Thoughts like this only ever lead to a downward spiral of more thoughts. I used to wake up in the middle of the night freaking out about dying and how final I thought it was. I'd then think about how Grandma Pat didn't ever get to see me ride my bike without training wheels, let alone graduate with both my Bachelor's and Master's Degrees. How Grandpa won't be at my wedding whistling through his teeth after the initial shock of me committing to a life long thing wore off. 

When the end of the month rolls around I usually think of Jack. I think about how much of a family member he was and how I still can't believe he's been gone for 4 years. I try and remember the time my Mum hit PJ on the head with an ad from the newspaper and she threatened to call the police. As she ran to get the portable phone, Jack showed up at the door in his police uniform and sure enough- PJ reported my Mum for child abuse. No arrests were made that day.

These things are final. The final memories I'll have with these people. With the inner growing I've done- I do a pretty stand up job of remembering them with a smile instead of a tear. Saying that I miss them doesn't do the feeling justice. But what about those that I miss who are still here? Those that chose for themselves that they didn't want to be a part of my life and memories anymore. I haven't figured out how to fill that void yet. We all make choices and I know it is their choice, not mine, that leaves me wondering how they are, if they miss me like I miss them, and why they left. Just like it's my choice to still wonder and miss. But is missing someone or something a "choice?" I'm not sure. When it comes to explaining the reasons and ways in which I miss someone- a hundred thousand words could not quite explain...

 

In the meantime I'm going to try and reminisce with a smile this month. I know it won't be easy, but in all honesty I wouldn't want it to be easy to miss these people that I love. When I smile I'll think about how everyone thinks it's my best physical feature. How my smile lights up my face and perhaps a room or two. Then I'll think about how my Grammy Pat and I have the same smile. When I laugh and someone says "I could hear you laughing from across the street"- I'll think about how loud my Grandpa laughed and will be reminded that I get that from him. I'll continue to do things for others, just like Jack was always doing for those he loved- Never leaving anyone left behind, always helping those in need whether they knew they needed it or not. And when I think about how happy I am when I'm truly living my life- I'll think about You. Above all- I'll always be thankful for every second, of everyday, that I've shared a memory or part of my life with someone I love.

I long for the day when there's no Goodbyes....

-Pat McGee Band