Creative writing submission from the Rest Less community – submit your entry here.
This time of year is both difficult and welcomed. It’s a time when, with the clocks going back and Autumn creeping in on soft, stockinged feet, I find myself at a crossroads. And though I face it every year, I’m always conflicted by a sense of both dread and wonderment. I miss the sunshine and light terribly and though I don’t think I’m directly affected by seasonal affective disorder as I’m too much of an eternal optimist, I do think I mourn the lack of bright, cheerful radiance that sings to me through the shutters when I open my eyes in the morning.
Of course, there’s much to be enjoyed in the winter months – looking forward to cosy, dark nights, thick woolly socks, and two small Dachshunds under a blanket with a hot cup of tea in the evenings. The red glow of the woodburner as it belches out heat like a baby dragon and, perhaps most of all for me, someone with an exceptional olfactory system, the smells that accompany this time of year.
Autumn is a mixture of burnt toffee and baked apple; chicken casseroles and woodsmoke followed by sharp winter berries; the tang of aired linen, cooked pastry, fruitcake, and spiced oranges. More than the summertime, autumn and winter are literally an assault on my senses. Colours are richer, somehow thicker and more syrupy, with a kaleidoscope ranging from creams and smoke greys to warm reds and rich oranges, pulling dark, holly greens into sharp focus.
There’s nothing nicer than taking myself out with the dogs and finding a bench to sit on calmly; at the coast, in a woodland sheltered by trees, or enjoying the welcome peace of a village cemetery. If dressed properly, we’re impervious to the cold and enjoy the sharp chill that nibbles at our cheeks and the end of our noses. Though, something tells me I must find someone to knit Dachshund jumpers quickly, as these two little beasties aren’t keen on anything under 29 degrees!
My dog Arthur came everywhere with me for 15 years, always at my side. But, once the dementia took hold of him, I was forced to leave him behind, the stress induced by travelling too much for him. I think it was one of the saddest things I’ve ever had to face, leaving him behind, but now that I have my two little sausage companions, once more, I’m not alone. I look forward to many more adventures, their little legs trotting along beside me, enjoying the perspicacity of each season.
I suppose the reason I find this time of year with its bounty of goodies challenging is that, for me, it’s a time of forced reflection – something I rarely do normally. I find myself gazing into still waters and see someone I vaguely recognise looking back at me…
As a glass-half-full person, I passionately believe in moving forwards, not looking backwards. I don’t believe in regret as all things happen for a reason. Every experience, even the bad, teaches us something positive and guides our future to a happier place. If we’re open to those experiences, we learn that no matter how dark life gets, it will always be followed by light. And no matter how sad we may become, there’s laughter to be found even within it, if we’re open to it.
But when you’ve lived a life, no matter how long or short, there’ll always be challenges and losses to be faced and, for me, it’s this time of year that brings into focus those losses. As a child, I could never have imagined a day when my mother wouldn’t be there, her laughter ringing in my ears. Or friends, those I’ve loved deeply and believed would be by my side until the end of time, are missing.
There’s an empty space where they should’ve been, a faint shadow in the darkness. And perhaps for me, more than the humans in my life, a myriad of faithful furry companions who wove their magic paws into my boring, mundane life and made every single day worth living.
Winter too is a time for families, a celebration designed around the coming together of young and old. But, of course, these days I have no family, not in the accepted sense of the word. With these celebrations I’m forced to look at my life’s choices, amazed by the twists and turns that my life took so that something I probably expected as a young woman (like everybody else), was never to be my path.
Don’t misunderstand me. I’m neither lonely nor regretful, sad nor wistful, just, I suppose, surprised, surprised that these things were clearly never written in my DNA. I sometimes think, when remembering my mother, how sad and disappointed she would’ve been to know that with four daughters, there would be only me; no marriages, no grandchildren, no legacy.
If I’m honest, I too have often wondered why that was the case. But, I’ve never dwelt on it as convention was never in my vocabulary, nor my sisters’ either. What’s that tired, overused phrase? ‘It is what it is’ – but in my case, it couldn’t be more apt.
Ironically, the things I find myself dreading about this time of year aren’t found in deep thought or retrospection, but in not being able to get my washing dry, finding out that my boots leak (soggy socks!), and discovering that I’ve forgotten to bring the logs in to dry out before I need them. These are my regrets, desperately parochial, and as I write them, I’m able to laugh at myself and put all that life throws at me into perspective.
When I write, I find it’s like talking out loud to someone. I’m able to unburden my soul, share my thoughts, and rationalise my emotions so that by the time I’ve finished, I feel the warm hug of sharing has taken away any momentary sense of isolation I might occasionally feel. It’s definitely cathartic and akin to those times in the past when I might’ve, over a cup of coffee, put the world to rights with those now gone and gained perspective.
Thinking now here at my keyboard, I’m grateful, grateful that I’m able to greet my ghosts, smile at them, and then gently move them on. Life is for living and every day is a precious gift. Knowing that they’re there, just over my shoulder, watching on, is just a part of the rich tapestry that is us, a part of who we are.
Are you feeling creative? We are proud to have a hugely talented community on Rest Less, which is why we’re so excited to open up a section of the site dedicated to showcasing the wonderful and diverse writing of our members. If you have a piece of creative writing that you’d like to share with the Rest Less community – you can do so here.