The Many Feelings of October

October tends to bring about so many mixed feelings for me.  I will start with what I love about October.  I love the changing of the seasons.  I love the smell of crisp autumn air coming through the windows. The changing colors of the leaves is mother nature's paintbrush leaving beautiful patches of bright orange, yellow and red throughout the state.  There's nothing better than  the crunch of freshly picked apples, and the smell of pumpkin cookies baking in my oven.

 I even enjoy the mess of gutting a pumpkin and attempting to create a jack-o-lantern with the pokers, carvers and patterns that come in kits.  Although, I think the patterns lie when it is labled as "easy."  I alo enjoy celebrating Ed's birthday in the beginning of the month. 

There are however things about October that bring about feelings of emptiness.  As much as I love the fall season, I hate the bare, blah feeling of the bitter cold winter.  So after these leaves bring their fullest color out like a crystal dangling in the sun splashing bits of rainbow everywhere, they all whither up and fall to the ground, leaving the trees looking lifeless.  (And leaving Ed lots of work in the yard.)  I know what comes next, and that leaves me feeling a bit empty, missing the heat of summer days.  It is also Breast Cancer Awareness Month.  Enough said.

The end of October marks another feeling of emptiness.  It's the beginning of the loss of a good friend.  October 26th, is a day I will never forget.  Three years ago on that day, I was supposed to go to a wedding down the shore.  I had taken off of work that day to prepare.  It was pouring rain all day.  A few days prior  Jessica had been diagnosed with a mass at the top of her spine.  The doctors wanted her to go for a brain scan.  I was off on that Friday, the 26th, and she asked if I would go with her so she could get the scan done, and I would help her with her two boys (Noah and Gavin) in the waiting room.  As she went in for her scan, I did my best to stay positive.  Praying, that there wasn't more bad news to be had.  How could it be?  She had breast cancer a year ago...  it can't be back and in her brain?!  I wasn't going to let her get down about it.  I was her horse that day.  I remember walking out of the office afterwards and Jess telling me how she had to fight, for her boys.  She was going to do whatever it took to do so.  In the car she told me, how she was so excited for my wedding (which at the time was less than a year away).  We listened to the Beatles, because her radio antenna was missing.  And laughed about different things.  We got back to her place and I had to leave so I could get ready for the wedding. 



Jessica Lynn Quinn (Donaldson)



 I got home and had some time to spare before getting drssed and packing for the night.  I was home for maybe 20 minutes when my phone rang.  On the other end was Jess.  She sounded down.  When I asked what was wrong her first words were.  "I'm gonna die, Bobbi."  I said, "Hold on a second, what happened?"  She said the doctor had called her already.  She had a golf ball size tumor in the front of her brain.  "It's most likely terminal."  She said as she cried into the phone.  I couldn't be her horse anymore.  At that moment, I broke down.  I cried with her through the phone wishing I had never left her at that house.  Wishing I had been there when she got the call so I could have hugged her and cried with her.  We got ourselves together and I tried my best to stay positive.  I told her that no matter what she was going to fight this and that I would be by her side helping her do so.  I'd help her get anything together family wise, whatever she needed.  That day changed me for the next two months.  I cried a countless number of times.  I put together a schedule for friends and family to go over to her apartment to help with the boys.  I helped her vaccuum her hair when it started falling out.  We organized a fundraiser in November to help her pay for medical bills, which was a HUGE success.  Took turns driving her to radiation appointments. And continued full speed until we could do no more. 



Early December 2007



The day came in the first week of December when I went to visit during one of her hospital stays.  Again, another rainy day' (What was it with the rain?!)  I walked into her hospital room already knowing what was coming.  Her first words to me were "So did you hear my shitty news?"  I said, "Yeah babe, I heard your shitty news."  As I held back the tears, she and I had some time to talk, alone.  I asked her what she was thinking.  She told me, "When I think about leaving the boys and not getting to see them grow up, it hurts.  But I've come to terms with it otherwise."  By that point, the cancer was all down her spinal fluid.  It was actually easier to say where the cancer wasn't rather than naming all the places it had spread to by then.  She had a choice.  The doctors could insert a port at the top of her spine and they could inject chemo directly into her spinal fluid to try and kill the carcinoma meninjitis.  But chances are she would end up like a vegetable unable to move because her spine would no longer have the strength to support her.  That was not the kind of life that she wanted.  So she chose the other option.  To go home with hospice care and be made as comfortable as possible.  She was home for two weeks beforeher  passing around 1:30 in the morning on December 21, 2007.  I got a text from her husband, and a call from her brother.  I had left her just a few hours earlier, and had  feeling it would be that night. 



Our last picture together 11/2007



I had said my good byes and made my peace in the days before.  And I still got a couple of good chuckles from her in those days at home too.  I never realized the pain one could feel in the loss of a friend.  I had never lost someone so young in my life.  And every year as October approaches, my thoughts and memories are flooded with Jessica.  How I wish she were here to be able to see me become a mommy in a few months. 

But I do know she is with me when I need her.  I believe in the spiritual life, and have been to a couple of Mediums and had positive experiences communicating with her.  And I know it's her, because that personality is not one that just anybody could have.  She still gives me good laughs when I go to one of those sessions.  I have had visits from her in my dreams, and signs of her here and there in my normal daily goings.  

So yeah,  October, does leave me feeling a little empty.  But I am grateful for having had her in my life, the memories we shared throughout the years, and the tears I STILL shed on occasion are a reminder of that.  And her boys, well, they are loved so very much by so many people and are getting so big now at 3 and 5 years of age.  They may never remember her.  But she will always be there for them spiritually. 

So PLEASE.... do yourself and those you love around you a favor... check your family history for breast cancer.  Get those boobies squished on a yearly basis.  That few minutes of discomfort can give you the blessing of many more years of memories with loved ones. 

And always be sure to LIVE like it's your last day.   LAUGH your ass off every day.  And LOVE with all your heart.  Because you never know how long you will have to do it all.