Autumn

I woke up three or four times last night. I got out of bed because while I lied there my random thoughts were ready for the day even if I wasn’t. I made my way to the coffee maker and put in a pod before I realized that I hadn’t switched on the kitchen light. It was dark outside at five am and would be for a few hours more. Menopause fog or sleep deprivation? I guess it didn't matter, Probably both.

As I drank from my favorite mug, “World’s Greatest Nana”, I heard the old heater click on adding more warmth to the living room. It was a chilly November. November? Where had the year gone? I had just gotten over my last birthday, which was in April, and it would be Thanksgiving soon. I sighed.

I didn’t have to cook this year. The boys would be taking their families to my ex-husband’s home. Of course, I was perfectly welcomed to tag along and enjoy his wife’s gourmet holiday meal. Awkward. I have only been to one of her family dinners. The entire time, I couldn’t shake the idea that Barb and I have both seen Greg naked. He’d naturally had a few relationships before we’d met and then married, but I never met any of his other lovers.

He was my first but, since our divorce, not my only partner. I was so green back then. I had done little more than make out before my wedding night. It hurt a lot and I knew little about sex, so I lied there and waited for him to finish. He reacted with hurt and I felt guilt and shame. That night would repeat itself, after about twenty years of marriage, and continue until we split in the fall of 2016. I wanted to give him what he needed, but things began to change.

We had long finished our hot, young lovers phase when we became parents for the first time. Then we learned to find time for planned intimacy, somewhat refreshing our tamed desire for each other. Unfortunately, two sons later our sex life changed again. We were working parents and the sheets really began to cool off. We were still friends but the spark was definetly dying.

When I found out about my husband’s affair with Barb, the new gal at the store, I was outraged. Well, maybe not outraged but I thought I ought to pretend to be. After so many years as a tepid wife, I felt that I owed Greg that much. I cried geniune and fake tears and kicked him out of our home. He stayed that night with her and never left. Still, part of me was truly relieved. Matt, my oldest was starting college and Joseph would be joining him the next year. I would finally have time for me.

I was often filled with reproach as I prepared nightly dinners for Joseph and me. I loved my son but I looked forward his graduation from high school. I would be...free...that’s the word that I felt as much as thought. There were times when I dreaded the empty nest but I knew that the kids would come home for weekends and breaks, which they did less and less as they finished earning their degrees.

The next thing I knew, I was buying wedding gifts, helping out at baby showers, and welcoming a small tribe to my house for Thanksgiving. They did it for me because they knew I was lonely. I appreciated the company and Matt and his wife helped with the cooking and dishes. Poor Joseph had little time for the kitchen as he had to mind the kids and listen to his wife’s litany of complaints. She couldn’t give it a rest even for one day. Virginia, Joseph's wife, was just like Barb. A nutty blond (dyed) who was either syrupy sweet, or mean as hell. Like the Colorado weather of Joseph's second hometown, she changed with little warning. By the time we all said our goodbyes, I was more relieved than sad because, while my family would be leaving, they would be taking "Ginny" with them.

The sunlight that suddenly appeared through the living room window brought me back to present day. I was surprised to realize that I had gotten dressed and turned on the morning news. I eyed about half a mug of cold coffee and briefly deliberated the merits of drinking it verses getting off my but to get a fresh cup. I took a sip and grimmaced, Decison made.

While the coffee maker hissed, I watched the mail truck continue down Las Florez street to my neighbor's house. I took my fresh coffee in hand and crossed the living room to check the mail. I reached in to retrieve a few bills and a card from Barb. It was a Thanksgiving themed greeting card with a RSVP penned inside. I wondered who sent invitations via snail mail anymore when I realized that I had unfriended her and Greg online. Oh. I wondered if they knew. The card was so Barb that it was hard to tell.

Again, I caught myself thinking bitter thoughts as I entered my front yard.

"Maggie," I whispered, "let it go. Let it all go. You don't want to be this person."

It was then I knew that I would be joining the rest of my family for dinner this year.

I picked up a leaf that was as orange as my oldest grandchild's hair, just like Nana's. Mine was from a bottle these days but close to my natural color. Madison was in the middle of her first year of school and was turning into a lovely and clever young lady. Her little sister, Joseph's girl-twin, was just talking and had her daddy's silly sense of humor. She also had her daddy's and grandpa's sandy waves and piercing blue eyes.

Matt, who looked more like me, had two boys who were in the Cub Scouts and would interrupt each other, as they did during our video chats, animatedly telling me of their latest adventures and new badges.

Matt and Sarah would be eager to tell me about the latest home improvement project that they were planning. Of course Greg would be full of ideas and offer them a discount at Home Warehouse. I imagined the scene and found myself looking forward to the holiday this year. Maybe Barb would finally swap a few recipies with me.

A crisp wind blew through my blouse and I debated: grab a sweater or go inside? I finally opted for the sweater and finished my second cup on the front porch as autumn marched forward in time.