September Days

September 12th, 2024

There are thirty of them, and the whole month is one of my favorites of the year. I like the slow creeping darkness in the evenings, chilly mornings and nights, foggy meadows and forests, and the overall slowing down of the summer rush. And colors, of course, the September colors are both shooting and energizing. There are thirty days in September, and three of those days (a full 10% of the whole month) have a special meaning for me.

The 8th of September is the anniversary of the day when my life changed — for the better. I made a fateful decision on that day, not sure how exactly that decision came about, but the results are simply stunning. Of course, with the good comes the bad — whenever the anniversary comes, I also remember the terrible decades previous to that wonderful day. Those memories are not fading. I don't let them fade, so they can keep me aware and on my toes so I don't slip up again. But those memories are getting less and less disruptive to my normal life.

The 11th of September is a day I remember not only as the horrifying destruction of innocent lives that happened just next door to where I was, but also as a day when I lost my innocence and when the retrospection of things past started getting a hold of me. A creeping realization of the true nature of humankind also awakened then in me, and that is not a pleasant thought — even today.

The 27th of September is a day which has no redeeming features. It is a day of loss. Of complete and total loss. Of course, what happened on that day didn't happen suddenly, it had been coming for years. But it is a day when the inevitable happened and it is the date that is written on the death certificate of the only person I ever felt so utmostly close to. It didn't last for long, but the memory — vague and hazy — remains, and the fact of the loss might be getting less oppressive than it once was. The emptiness remains though, and I don't seriously try to fill it.