Apparently, October Didn’t Get My Forwarding Address

Fall feels different in Arizona than it does on the East Coast. You’re probably thinking, “Well, obviously.” I know, I know, but after almost 30 years of East Coast autumns, I’m realizing how much of that feeling I took for granted. I still noticed the beautiful colors, but they had become something I expected. Fall would arrive, the trees would show off, and I didn’t have to think much about what made it feel like fall.

I couldn’t figure out why the difference was hitting me this year. Then I remembered that last year, we were back east packing up the house during peak foliage. We technically lived in Arizona, but we still got our fall from Connecticut.

This year, getting my fall fix might take a drive up the mountain. I’ve been assured the leaves are beautiful, although I’m not quite ready to hand over New England’s crown. There are signs of fall right here at home, too. The windows are open, the AC is off, and a beautiful breeze is blowing through the house. Last year, I worried it wouldn’t get cold enough for my flannel pants and big, baggy pickle jar sweatshirt. Thankfully, Arizona came through. My very sophisticated fall wardrobe survived the move.

So the colors are within reach, and the sweatshirt still gets its moment. Whatever I’m missing seems to be something a little harder to put my finger on.

I think it’s that familiar feeling of one season ending and another getting ready to take its place. On the East Coast, the whole world around you announces it. The leaves turn, the air shifts, and even an ordinary trip to the grocery store feels a little different. The trees practically send out a group text. Summer is over. Get your hoodies out!

For years, life had that same predictable rhythm. School would start, we’d figure out a Halloween costume, the holidays would arrive, and somehow we’d be buying school supplies again. There were surprises along the way, but there was a familiar routine carrying us forward.

Looking back, it seems like all those years just flew by! I’m pretty sure my daughter just started kindergarten and walked in the Halloween parade dressed as a cupcake. Somehow, that little cupcake went off to college, where I was no longer involved in Halloween costume selection and apparently hadn’t even retained approval rights. But there was still a school calendar, a holiday break, a summer to plan around. My part had changed, but I still knew where we were in the story. Now she’s graduated, living her adult life, and that familiar calendar has gone with her.

These last couple of years, so much has changed before I could even adjust to the last thing. My mother’s stroke, moving across the country, leaving our house, watching my daughter graduate and head off to begin her own life. There hasn’t been much of a rhythm to any of it.

I think the wake of all that has left me a little unsettled today. Nothing particular has happened. I’m just finding myself looking for something predictable. Something that feels exactly the way I remember it.

It’s made me wonder how often I’ve confused being comfortable with being happy. I had a lot of happiness in that familiar life. I also had things I wasn’t happy with, and knowing what to expect sometimes made it easier to leave them alone.

I gave the familiar a lot of credit simply because I knew how to live with it. Something new might be better, but apparently I liked the guarantee, along with three references, and a chance to read the reviews before I considered it. Even after that, I still would hesistate to rock the boat.

Yet this move and getting here meant taking a huge chance without any of those things. Leaving a home and a life we’d known for decades didn’t feel safe or secure. We had reasons to go, hopes for what it could be, and plenty we couldn’t possibly know until we got here.

Now I get to be close to my parents. I get to watch my daughter find her way while I figure out a few things for myself. Even with the uncertainty and the hard days, I’m living a pretty amazing life. I think I need to remember that when I’m tempted to assume familiar automatically means better.

Today, though, I’d still like that crisp smell of fall and a familiar road lined with changing trees. Instead, I have the smell of the desert and a gentle breeze flowing through the windows. I’m thrilled to be able to sit outside again without wondering how long I have before I start melting. I just wish, for a little while, that I could step outside into something I know by heart.

I think I expected feeling at home to come with a little more certainty. The boxes are unpacked. I have a favorite grocery store. I can get places without GPS. But a year in, something as simple as a change in the weather can remind me how much I’m still getting used to.

Maybe settling in takes longer than settling our stuff. Maybe it includes discovering things I miss that I never thought to say goodbye to, and letting myself miss them without questioning the whole move. That chapter feels finished, and I wouldn’t go back. I’m just am still getting used to not knowing where this one is going.

Of course, when winter rolls around, I suspect this nostalgia will clear right up. I don’t anticipate standing in my Arizona backyard wishing I could scrape ice off a windshield. I’m pretty sure my longing for the East Coast has a temperature limit.

For now, the windows are open, there’s a breeze coming through, and my pickle jar sweatshirt is waiting patiently for its moment. I might light a fall candle and read my book for a while.

Plot twist… I’m willing to adjust to a new version of fall. I’d just like it to smell like the old one.