The BLTS Archive- October
by monkee (wiecek@earthlink.net)

---

Disclaimers: Not this time. This story belongs to me, and me alone.
Well, okay - the song belongs to U2.

---
October,
and the trees are stripped bare
of all they wear -
What do I care?

October,
and kingdom's rise,
and kingdom's fall,
but you go on
and on.

-October, U2
---

They're all finally leaving today.

Oh, they've been wonderful. Kind, understanding, supportive. It's
amazing that seven years over a half a century ago could have bound us
all so tightly together. They all came. From all over.

Maybe we never had children of our own, but no one could say we didn't
leave a legacy.

Still, I'm glad they're leaving.  I want to grieve in peace now. They
worry too much.  It touches me, but it also makes me feel a little
claustrophobic.  I know they're concerned about the long walks that I
take.  They think I'm lost, overwhelmed by my grief. They think I'm
talking to myself.  They think I'm a crazy old man.  They couldn't be
more wrong.

They don't understand.  Not really.  This is my Nwanka -- my time of
mourning -- and it is a path I must travel in my own way.  And I'm not
talking to myself. I know you can hear me.

I nearly missed autumn.  Even during my long walks, I have been
blinded by your loss, by my grief.  It was always our favorite time of
year here.  It's the only reason I ever agreed to live in Indiana,
even for you. I grew up in an arid climate, then went to the academy
in California, so I never understood the fierce beauty of this time of
year until you introduced me to it.  I never regretted living here
rather than in the desert.  I grew to love all of the changing
seasons.  Except maybe for the end of winter.  You know how I feel
about cold and relentless gray.

I have to stay away from the news.  Everyone is talking about you,
about all of us and our extraordinary journey.  Mostly about you,
though -- your strength, all of the difficult decisions that you made,
the way you got us all home.  I just can't listen.  For me, the
memories of the difficult times have faded over the years, and the
only decision of yours that had a lasting  impact on my life was the
one you made about me when it was all over.

I look back towards our home.  A tall man stands on our porch.  The
years have, naturally, been kinder to him. His dark face is lined, but
his hair is only now beginning to gray at the temples.  It is only
because I know him so well that I can see, even from here, the concern
in his eyes and in his stance.  I am ashamed that, for all these
years, I considered him more your friend than mine.

He is waiting for me.  It is time for him to say goodbye and return to
his own family.  I turn and begin to head back.  It takes me so long
to walk now.  When did we all get so damned old?

The dry leaves crackle under my feet as I shuffle along.  So many
colors.  The golds, the umbers, the fading greens.  I bend down to
pick up a startling vermilion maple leaf - it is the color of your
hair when I first knew you.  It makes me smile. I am beginning to feel
the peace that comes  with acceptance. You are everywhere around me -
in the leaves, the clouds, the sharp chill in the air, the boundless
sky...

Did I ever manage to convince you? That there was more to our
existence than you could explain by your science?  I like to think
that I did. Anyway, I'm sure you know it now.

You have joined the Great Spirit.  I will join you, when it is my
time.  And until then, I know that you are here with me, walking
through the leaves, curled in my embrace as I sleep, moving through my
body with every breath.

I will always love you.

---

The End