November 2014
Well yes, the weather’s been beautiful There’s something in it–the precise time it takes a leaf to fall (not very fast, actually), or the dusty smell of decaying leaves, or the heft and warmth and softness of the air. The sounds–of birds, distant cars, doors closing–are muffled. There’s something in it that feels so terribly familiar. As though there’s a memory being jogged that I can’t quite bring to mind. Or as though time is collapsing, and this moment is not necessarily now.
It’s as though Vaughn, and Don–my old life–are right around the corner. As though the veil, as they say, really is thin at this time of year.
Or is it just the memory of these same sensory impressions from a time that I was happy, or a time, at least, when Vaughn was still here?
I think I have cried every day for the last month. No, that’s not true, because I remember two days last week when I didn’t cry, and there must have been a few others. But I’m crying a lot. Is that reality setting in?
Vaughn's Mom 