Autumn is a nicer way to say Fall.

But neither one is so bad. It speaks of the very two-ness, the diunital nature, of the Fall experience in this house. How can something be two things in one moment? How can a feeling be felt twice over? How can I be two whole selves simultaneously? It is absolutely amazing.

Right this moment, I have that distinct ripping apart feeling of Fall. I sense decorations going up all around me, building upon themselves like monolithic reminders. I smell leaves burning. I see my breath as stand outside - watching the sun rising, casting golden sidelong glances at my house.

I feel that longing to go back. My heart wrenches and remembers. Those wounds I believed had healed over - they feel fresh and new. And yet, as I begin to writhe and twist with the pain of great-anticipation-followed-by-great-agony, I don't quite get to the agony phase. The agony used to be the crescendo. The crying was the main event. But, not any more. Now, my heart swells as I remember how I waited for my angel girl. I used to feel the searing pain along with the waiting, as glints of Autumnal light began to Fall. But, now I don't quite get that far. There is the weight of anticipation. My heart is heavy.

Fall. Autumn. Heavy. Pregnant. Loss. Feelings. Heavy. Explosive. Deep. Bellows. Heavy.

But, somehow, I am not fallen. The weight is heavy, but I am up and I am running with it. The colder air fills my lungs, and the hurt of what would have been, the anticipation of one girl, is replaced with what Autumn will be this year.

What am I trying to say? In the fewest words? How can I capture what I mean? How can I say that is still hurts, but the hurt isn't all there is?

October 31st (and the days that surround it), the days of the hollowest chasm and the most intense pain and longing, will be just those days. They will be those perfect, beautiful poetic days and they will be just those days with my lovely little family. We will miss and visit, and surely we will cry, but we will get up and suck in some sweet, cold air and carve pumpkins and take pictures and wrestle and laugh and rake leaves. And, it will hurt, and I will wear it plainly on my face, but it will be heavenly, and I will wear that, too.