I love September usually. The memories of going to WHsmiths in the 90s and buying a new lever arch file (which sometimes came with a clipboard!) with matching pencil case, new pens, pencils and cute miniature character rubbers. It didn’t matter that I had the fear of being teased about the choices I made to come later on, nothing actually mattered in that moment, it was all about the absolute joy I felt to be buying new stationery.
Then there was choosing my new backpack, how many compartments would it have, did it come with any freebies, was it lacking enough personality to avoid getting bullied, of course it was, it was probably black! Gosh children can be mean. I now tell my own children to ignore those who are judgemental about what things you own, I wish it was that simple for them.
As the years have gone by, September means new items of stationery for my children, getting my winter boots out and putting away the summer clothes. The thought of the nights drawing in…booo… I love the long summer days!!! but I also love the cosy evenings when you can draw the curtains and shut the world away a little bit. I love the crispness that comes with autumn, Halloween is a favourite of mine and knowing that Christmas is around the corner was always joy. But this year I feel nervous about all of those thoughts that usually offer me such comfort and inspiration. This September is the first anniversary of losing my dad, my absolute hero. And the anniversary of losing my dad is also the reminder that in a couple of months it will be the anniversary of losing my Mum, my beautiful Mum. I find it painful that this is the anniversary of the fact that we were actually running out of time with Mum too and we had no idea. Losing your parents within three months of each other is so unbelievably painful. Grief is so wretched but I know the measure of this pain is because of the love I felt and the love I was offered but it’s insanely cruel to experience.