There is a beauty in death, if you can look beyond the pain to find it. The leaves, in all of their glory, have been radiating across the countryside for weeks now, their vibrancy lighting up the landscape like fire. Nothing quite compares to a New England fall, the variety of colors astounding even those of us who have lived a lifetime here. But now their beauty has faded and, in a last effort to cling to the life they had lived, each one holds on with a surprising tenacity. Their resistance is pointless, but I don't blame them. They are holding on to everything they've ever had, clutched in a vice-like grip on the last semblance of living they have left. No, I don't blame them at all. I envy them. At least they're still holding on.
I can't be the only one that is still reeling from this surreal turn of events. March is cancelled. April is most likely cancelled. The rest of the school year is potentially cancelled. Summer is on probation, and nobody is able to see far enough into the future to make accurate predictions about the fall. It's absolutely nuts! But what is crazier is how I've been dealing with it.
The snow beat down as I gazed out the window at the glistening world of white, a beautiful sight even as the light from a dim sky slowly began to fade. My buzzing thoughts once again had slowed long enough to stray to that forbidden dream, that forgotten longing; the telling dull ache that resonated from deep within my soul. I had been in this place before... in fact, I knew it well. But simply understanding the pain would not soothe it; ignoring it as it tugged on my heart would not make it go away. I was lonely.