Hopeless Longings

             For the past month, my Timehop feed has been full of Vermont falls. Pictures of brightly colored leaves, snapshots of the girls jumping and running through piles of leaves, status updates pertaining to the changing weather, lazy mornings drinking coffee on the front porch, apple picking memos, and my extreme productivity as I canned, baked, and cleaned. Soon Halloween memories will appear, pictures of the girls dressed as their favorite characters and comments pertaining to the village buzzing with activity as hundreds of tick-or-treaters collected and stashed oodles of candy. These memories make the absence of a Florida fall harder to bear.

            Yesterday, while waiting for Lucy to get out of school, Lily and I took a walk to Walmart. There, lining the shelves were scarecrows and pumpkins, wreaths (both centered around the fall harvest and Halloween) and costumes galore. I was tempted, for a moment, to purchase a scarecrow or two, a hay bail and a couple of pumpkins, thinking that such a purchase would temper some of my longing for Vermont and the spectacular northeast falls. However, aside from having no way of hauling the items back to my car, that fiery desire to decorate escaped me.

            My longing for fall has turned into depression and my depression has stripped me of the motivation and the desire to engage in fall related activities. I have no desire to drive an hour in search of a pumpkin patch. Despite printing a delicious looking chocolate zucchini bread recipe, I have no desire to bake. My house remains relatively cluttered because to thoroughly clean it I would need an incredible amount of motivation, something I simply can’t muster. My day, instead, consists of everyday laundry, dishes, and vacuuming. Simple chores meant to keep complete chaos from breaking out.

            I honestly feel like crying, screaming, and cursing God for my situation. After all what kind of a God creates a place with such lack of feeling, smell, and inspiration. I realize the ridiculousness of these statements. I own my choices. However, there is a hopeless longing that in my darker moments overtakes me bringing with it, not the colors of fall, but the darkness of winter.