Fall Recipes, 2025 Edition

Cooking (and baking) is nearly as therapeutic for me as writing is, so I am very happy to be entering the fall season, which brings thoughts of cozy, hearty soups, oven-roasted vegetables, and rich, oven-baked entrees. They're called comfort foods for a reason: they bring to mind family gatherings around the dinner table, perhaps with a fire crackling cozily in the background, or a large pot of something delicious on the stove or in the oven filling the kitchen with an enticing aroma. Here are some of my favorite dishes that bring comfort to my body and soul, both while I'm making them and while I'm enjoying them with loved ones. 

Classic Beef Stew

You can make beef stew in a slow cooker or even an Instant Pot, but I think it's best when made on the stovetop. This is a good base recipe, but you can adjust it to your own preferences by adding whatever vegetables you have on hand (either fresh or frozen), using any kind of potatoes (including sweet potatoes), and using whatever combination of fresh or dried herbs you like for seasoning the meat.

Seasoning Mix
1-1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp dried crushed rosemary
1 tsp dried thyme
1 tsp dried marjoram
1 tsp paprika (I like smoked paprika)
1/2 tsp black pepper

Stew
2 Tbsp vegetable (plus more, if needed)
2 lbs beef stew meat, cut into bite-sized pieces
1 cup diced onion (frozen is fine)
2 ribs celery, chopped
1 tsp minced garlic
3 Tbsp tomato paste
1 cup medium to full-bodied red wine (Cabernet, Merlot, Malbec) - or substitute 1 cup beef broth plus 1 Tbsp red wine vinegar
2 cups beef broth
1 Tbsp Worcestershire sauce
1 bay leaf
1 lb baby potatoes, halved or quartered
3 or 4 carrots, peeled and cut into chunks
1 cup frozen peas
1/4 cup fresh parsley (optional)
1/4 cup water
2 Tbsp cornstarch

Combine all seasoning mix ingredients in a small bowl and set aside. In a large Dutch oven, heat the vegetable oil over medium-high heat. Add about half the meat to the pan (do not overcrowd pan) and sprinkle with two teaspoons of the seasoning mix. Saute until browned on all sides, then use a slotted spoon to remove to a large bowl. Repeat with remaining meat, reserving remaining seasoning mix. 

Add oil to pan if needed and add onion, celery, and garlic and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened. Stir in tomato paste. Add the red wine and increase heat until it comes to a boil, then add broth, Worcestershire sauce, remaining seasoning mix, and bay leaf. Return beef and any accumulated juices back to the pan, bring back to a boil, then reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 1-1/2 hours, until beef is fork-tender. 

Add potatoes and carrots and increase heat to high until boiling. Reduce heat to low and simmer for an additional 30-40 minutes, until vegetables are fork-tender. Stir in peas and parsley (if using). Combine cornstarch and water and stir into stew, then continue to cook, uncovered, until thickened. 

Roasted Butternut Squash and Bacon Soup

This hearty soup is a wonderful lunch or dinner when combined with a sandwich and/or a green salad, or a few slices of crusty bread. 

8 slices bacon, divided
3 lbs butternut squash, peeled, seeded, and cut into 1-inch chunks
1 onion, diced
1 red bell pepper, chopped
2 Tbsp olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
salt and pepper to taste
1/2 tsp dried thyme
2-1/2 cups chicken stock (adjust to taste)
1/4 cup crumbled goat cheese 
2 Tbsp chopped fresh chives 

Preheat oven to 400 degrees and line a baking sheet with nonstick foil (or spray with nonstick spray). Dice 4 slices of the bacon and combine with cubed squash, onion, and bell pepper to form a single layer on the prepared sheet. Drizzle with olive oil and minced garlic, season with salt and pepper to taste, and gently toss to combine. Bake for 25-30 minutes, stirring halfway through, until squash is tender. 

While squash is baking, dice remaining bacon and cook in a large stockpot or Dutch oven over medium heat until browned and crispy (6-8 minutes). Transfer to a paper plate and do not drain fat. Add the roasted squash mixture and thyme to the pan and cook, stirring occasionally, until fragrant (1-2 minutes), then remove from heat. Season with salt and pepper to taste, then add chicken stock and puree using an immersion blender. Return to heat and bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer until slightly thickened (5-10 minutes). If soup is too thick, add chicken stock as needed. Serve immediately, garnished with remaining bacon, goat cheese, and chives. 

Creamy Turkey Pumpkin Chili

A delicious hybrid of chili and bisque, this dish combines four of my favorite fall food words: creamy, turkey, pumpkin, and chili. What's not to love?

3 Tbsp olive oil
1 onion, finely chopped
2 large carrots, sliced, chopped, or julienned
2 stalks celery, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 Tbsp coriander
1 Tbsp paprika (I like smoked paprika)
1 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp crushed red chili or chili flakes
1/2 tsp black pepper
1-1/2 lbs ground turkey (can substitute ground pork or vegetarian crumble)
2 Tbsp chopped fresh rosemary, thyme, or sage, or a mixture
1 (15-oz) can pumpkin
2 (15-oz) cans cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
2 cups chicken broth
2 tsp salt, plus more to taste if needed
1/2 heavy or light cream or half and half (may be omitted)

Heat the oil in a large stockpot or Dutch oven over medium heat, then add onion, carrots, and celery and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened. Add garlic, coriander, paprika, cumin, red chili, and black pepper, stirring to coat in oil. Add the turkey and cook until no longer pink (about 8 minutes), stirring occasionally to break into pieces. Add remaining ingredients except cream and bring just to a boil, then reduce heat. Cover partially and simmer for 20 minutes, making sure it doesn't come to a full boil. Stir in cream, if using, and adjust seasoning as needed. 

Roasted Tomato Soup

Tomato soup from a can paired with a grilled cheese sandwich is good, but homemade roasted tomato soup brings it to a whole new level. Serve this soup with croutons, toast points, or crusty bread and a sprinkle of parmesan, or with grilled cheese made with a hearty bread and gruyere or Brie for a truly elegant and filling autumn meal. 

2 large tomatoes
1 medium onion, peeled and quartered
5-6 garlic cloves, peeled
7-10 baby carrots
2 Tbsp olive oil
Salt and pepper, to taste
½ tsp Italian seasoning
½ tsp paprika
½ tsp dried basil (or a few fresh leaves)
½ tsp chili flakes (optional)
1-1/2 cups chicken or vegetable broth
1 Tbsp cream or half and half (optional)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Arrange tomatoes, onion, garlic, and carrots on a baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with salt & pepper, Italian seasoning, paprika, basil, and chili (if using). Roast for 30-35 minutes, until soft and slightly caramelized. Combine seasoned vegetables and broth in a blender and puree until smooth. (You can also process in batches using an immersion blender.) Pour into a pot and bring to a simmer. Stir in cream, if desired. Adjust seasonings to taste. Serve with grilled cheese, or garnish soup with fresh basil, shredded or parmesan cheese, and croutons, as desired. 

Honey-Roasted Butternut Squash

The hint of sweetness from the honey and the spicy scent of the cinnamon turns this squash into a vegetable dish that even my picky kids will eat. You can make it with any size squash you want, just adjust the amounts of other ingredients slightly for a larger or smaller squash. 

1 butternut squash (about 3 lbs), peeled, seeded, and cut into bite-sized chunks (if the squash is difficult to cut, you can microwave it for 30 seconds or so to soften it slightly before slicing)
2 Tbsp olive oil
2 Tbsp honey
1/4 tsp cinnamon
salt and pepper, to taste

Line a baking sheet with nonstick foil or spray with nonstick spray and arrange squash pieces in a single layer. Drizzle with oil and honey and sprinkle with cinnamon, salt, and pepper, and toss thoroughly to coat. Toast in a 400-degree oven, on center rack, for 20-25 minutes, tossing halfway through, until squash is tender.

Ultimate Green Beans

The bacon adds smokiness, the lemon juice adds brightness, and the red pepper provides a hint of heat that makes these beans extra-delicious and comforting. 

2 slices bacon, diced
1/2 onion, finely diced
1 lb fresh green beans, trimmed
1/2 tsp red pepper flakes
1/2 cup boiling water
1 Tbsp butter
1 tsp lemon juice
salt and pepper, to taste

In a large, deep skillet over medium-high heat, fry bacon until browned and crispy, then use a slotted spoon to scoop onto a paper towel-lined plate to drain. Cook onion in the drippings until soft, 5-7 minutes. Stir in beans and red pepper and cook for 2 additional minutes, then pour boiling water over and immediately cover tightly. Steam for 15 minutes, occasionally shaking skillet to avoid sticking. Add remaining ingredients and cook and stir until butter is melted. Sprinkle the bacon over and serve immediately. 

Easy Corn Casserole

This recipe isn't particularly healthy, but it's a yummy side dish that's quick and easy to throw together with ingredients that are probably already in your pantry and fridge. 

1 can (15.25-oz) creamed corn, undrained
1 can (15.25-oz) regular corn, drained
1 cup sour cream
1/2 cup butter, melted
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 (8.5-oz) box Jiffy cornbread mix
 

In a large mixing bowl, whisk together all ingredients except cornbread mix. Stir in mix until well combined. Pour into a buttered 8-inch casserole dish and bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes, until top is golden and edges are slightly cracked. Center should be firm to the touch. 

Turkey and Stuffing Casserole

Although this is an excellent recipe for using up Thanksgiving leftovers, it can easily be made using a pre-cooked turkey breast or even turkey deli meat (just ask for it unsliced). You can also make it with cooked chicken. Feel free to use boxed stuffing mix, or try my favorite easy recipe from this blog post, and either instant or "real" mashed potatoes. 

4 cups prepared stuffing, divided
4 cups cooked turkey, chopped (about 1 lb)
3/4 cup mayonnaise, divided
1/4 cup cranberry sauce
2 cups prepared mashed potatoes
1-1/2 cups cheddar cheese, shredded

Spray an 8-inch baking dish with non-stick spray and spread half the stuffing on the bottom. Top with all the turkey. In a small bowl, whisk together 1/4 cup mayo and cranberry sauce and spread evenly over turkey. In another bowl, combine the remaining 1/2 cup mayo, potatoes, and cheese, and spread evenly over cranberry layer. Top with remaining stuffing. Bake at 375 for 25 minutes or until heated through. 

Smothered Baked Burritos

When my local grocery has rotisserie chickens on sale, I like to grab one for this recipe, and I make broth from the carcass while I'm cooking the burritos. This is one of my teenage kids' favorites. 

3 cups cooked chicken, shredded or diced
1 cup cooked rice
1 (15-oz) can black beans, rinsed and drained
1 cup frozen corn
1 cup salsa (or salsa verde)
1 tsp chili powder
1/2 tsp cumin
salt and pepper, to taste
6 large flour tortillas
2-1/2 cups shredded Mexican cheese blend
1 (10-oz) can enchilada sauce (I use red with tomato salsa and green with salsa verde)
1 cup sour cream

In a large bowl, stir together chicken, rice, beans, corn, salsa, and spices. Lay each tortilla on a flat surface and form a thick line of filling, then top with cheese. Roll, tucking ends under, and arrange in a 9x13 baking dish. (I usually have filling left over.) Whisk together enchilada sauce and sour cream and pour over burritos. Sprinkle with cheese and bake at 375 degrees, uncovered, until bubbly and barely browned. Serve immediately. 

Red Wine Braised Short Ribs

This is one of my favorite dishes to order at a restaurant, but it's also easy to make at home. It's one of the few times I recommend serving a dish with "real" mashed potatoes instead of instant, because the heartier texture goes so well with the tender beef. 

3-4 lbs bone-in short rib pieces (can also use boneless short ribs or beef tips)
salt and pepper to taste
2 Tbsp olive oil
1 large onion, diced
2 stalks celery, diced
2 carrots, peeled and shredded or thinly sliced
3 cloves garlic, crushed
2 Tbsp tomato paste
2 cups hearty red wine (Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, or Malbec; can also substitute beef broth with 1 Tbsp red wine vinegar)
3 cups beef broth
2 bay leaves
1 sprig fresh thyme
1 sprig oregano

Pat dry the meat and season generously with salt and pepper. Heat olive oil in large oven-proof Dutch oven or stockpot over medium-high heat. Brown in two batches for 5-6 minutes on each side, then transfer to a plate and set aside.

To the same pot, add diced onion and cook for 8-10 minutes or until translucent and softened. Add celery and carrots and cook for 3-5 minutes more. Add smashed garlic and tomato paste and cook for a few more minutes. Stir in wine, bring to a boil, lower the heat to medium, and simmer until reduced by half, about 15-20 minutes. (If not using wine, skip the reduction step and add all the beef broth at this point.) Add beef broth and stir. Return meat to pot, and add bay leaves, thyme and oregano. Cover tightly with lid and transfer to 350-degree oven. Cook for 2 ½-3 hours or until ribs are tender. Transfer meat to a plate and cover loosely with foil. Strain the sauce and discard the vegetables. Return the liquid to the pot and simmer until thickened. For a thicker sauce, combine 1 Tbsp cornstarch with 2 Tbsp water, stir in, and simmer until desired consistency is reached. Serve meat over mashed potatoes with sauce on the side. 

Beef Stroganoff

Be sure to thinly slice the mushrooms and cook them down fully for the most tender texture. You can serve this dish over mashed potatoes, but our family prefers it over extra-wide egg noodles. This is also a great camping recipe; simply make it ahead and reheat it over a stove or fire while boiling the noodles. 

3 Tbsp butter, divided
1 Tbsp vegetable oil
1 pound beef sirloin or tenderloin, thinly sliced
8 ounces cremini or white mushrooms, thinly sliced (you can use canned, but fresh is much better)
1 medium yellow onion, sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 cups beef broth
1 cup sour cream
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
2 tablespoons flour
8 oz egg noodles, cooked according to package directions
1 Tbsp fresh parsley, chopped (optional)

Heat one tablespoon of the butter and the vegetable oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat until melted and shimmering, about 1 minute. Add onions and mushrooms to the pan, stirring occasionally until golden brown and tender, about 5 minutes. Stir in minced garlic, cooking for 30 seconds until fragrant and just golden at the edges. Push veggies to the side and add beef strips in batches, searing until browned around the edges, about 2 minutes per side. Sprinkle flour evenly over the beef mixture, stirring constantly for 1 minute to cook out the raw taste and form a roux. Whisk mustard into beef broth and pour into pan, then bring to a gentle simmer for 3–4 minutes until sauce thickens slightly. Remove from heat and stir in sour cream, adjusting salt and pepper to taste. Spoon the beef and sauce over warm egg noodles, sprinkled with fresh parsley if desired.

Cider Dijon Pork Chops

Cider is my favorite fall flavor, so I frequently have it on hand, and its sweet-tart flavor cuts the richness of the creamy Dijon sauce. The recipe is quite rich, but can be lightened a bit by substituting half and half for cream if you prefer. 

4 boneless pork chops
salt and pepper, to taste
2 tsp olive oil
2 tsp minced garlic
1/2 cup apple cider
1 Tbsp whole grain Dijon mustard (you can use regular, but whole grain is better)
1/3 cup heavy cream (or light cream or half and half)
fresh rosemary sprigs (optional, for garnish)

Season pork chops with salt and pepper on both sides. Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat for 1-2 minutes. Swirl to coat the pan. Add garlic and cook, stirring constantly, for about 1 more minute. Add chops to skillet and cook for 5-7 minutes per side, until cooked through. Remove chops to a plate and set aside. Pour cider into pan and scrape up the bits as you stir. Let the cider simmer for about 1 minute, then add mustard and stir in cream. Cook sauce for a few more minutes, then pour over chops and serve. Garnish with fresh rosemary, if desired.

Maple Bourbon Cider

What would any food blog of mine be without at least one cocktail recipe? Bourbon and cider are a lovely autumn combination, especially with a hint of sweetness from maple syrup and a touch of heat from the bitters. 

4 oz cider
3 oz bourbon
2 tsp lemon juice
1 tsp maple syrup
dash smoked chili bitters (or cayenne pepper)

Combine all ingredients in a cocktail shaker over ice and shake until well chilled. Pour into a cocktail glass and garnish with a twist of lemon. 

Bourbon Brulee Pumpkin Pie

Pumpkin pie is a fall classic, but adding bourbon and a sweet, crispy layer of torched sugar makes it special. This recipe is sure to be a hit on the Thanksgiving table or any time. You can substitute your own favorite pie crust recipe or use a ready-made standard or graham cracker crust. 

For the crust:
2 cups flour
1 Tbsp sugar
1 tsp salt
3/4 cold butter, cut into pieces
1 egg, lightly beaten
1/2 tsp white vinegar
1/4 cup ice cold water
1 egg white, lightly beaten

For the filling:
3 eggs
1 (15-oz) can pumpkin
1/4 cup sour cream
2 Tbsp bourbon
2 Tbsp vanilla extract
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp ginger
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/4 tsp cardamom
1/8 tsp allspice
3/4 cup real maple syrup
1 cup heavy cream
3 Tbsp sugar

Crust: In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, and salt. Add the pieces of butter to the bowl and cut in with a pastry blender, or work in with your fingers, until small, coarse crumbs form. In a small bowl, whisk together the egg, vinegar, and water. Sprinkle over the flour mixture and blend with fingers until dough comes together. Wrap dough ball with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 30 minutes. Roll the crust out into a 12-inch circle. Fold in half and lay in a 9-inch pie plate, unfolding as you go and trimming edges, crimping with fingers or fork if desired. Cover with parchment paper and fill with pie weights or dried beans. Bake at 375 degrees for 15 minutes, until barely golden. Remove from oven and brush with egg white. Reduce oven temperature to 350 degrees. 

Filling: In a large bowl, whisk together eggs, pumpkin, sour cream, bourbon, vanilla, and spices. In a small saucepan, heat the maple syrup to simmering and simmer for 2 to 3 minutes, until slightly thickened. Remove from heat and gradually whisk in cream. Whisk the maple mixture into the pumpkin mixture until combined. Pour filling into baked crust and bake at 350 for 55 to 60 minutes, until center is barely jiggling and set. Allow pie to cool completely. Pie may be refrigerated overnight at this point. 

When ready to serve, sprinkle sugar over top and caramelize with a kitchen torch or by placing under the broiler for a few minutes, until sugar is golden and crystallized. 

Bon Appetit!

I Don't Know

When I was young, I always worked very hard in school because I was determined to know everything the teachers had to teach. I hated having to answer, "I don't know," to anything. I still hate having to admit that I don't know something. I hate talking on the phone, especially to strangers and businesses, because I'm afraid they'll ask me a question that I don't have an answer to, and I'll have to say those horrible (to me) words: "I don't know."

Lately, I feel like I'm saying, "I don't know," a lot. The guys came to close my pool and asked where the plugs for the pool skimmers were. "I don't know." Someone asked if I could find a video my husband had taken a few years ago, and again I had to admit, "I don't know." I need to clear the pine needles off the driveway, but do I own a leaf blower? I don't know. I got a letter in the mail telling me I needed a certain document to complete a transaction. What is that document and where do I get it? I don't know. I need to sell my husband's car, and one of the interested parties lives in a different state. Will that affect the paperwork? I don't know. Will I be able to afford medical insurance if the prices go up as much as expected within the next year? I don't know. 

Will I ever feel confident in my ability to function as a competent adult again? I don't know. Will I be able to successfully coach both of my children through learning to drive? I don't know. Will I be able to figure out how to navigate college applications and financial aid forms? I don't know. Will I be able to find a job that pays better than working at a fast food joint? I don't know. Will I be able to find contractors to paint the house and replace the roof without getting conned or overpaying? I don't know. Will I be able to recoup my investment when I sell my house? I don't know. 

Will I ever feel normal again? 

I don't know. 

The Day I Lost It (and Got It Back)

Well, I'm not sure if anyone had October 23rd in the pool for the day that I would finally have a full-fledged meltdown but if it was you, congratulations. Because yesterday, I lost it. 

Please don't panic, because I got it back. But for a little while there, I lost it. I REALLY lost it. Sobbing, screaming, panicking, hyperventilating, nausea, desperate prayer, it was all there. 

It wasn't anything major that set it off. It wasn't a particular anniversary. There wasn't some kind of crisis. It may have been a build up of little things: still no response from the pool company about winterizing my pool; one more letter telling me I'd filled out a form incorrectly or incompletely so they'd need more information before they could do what I needed to have done; I couldn't find my video of how to turn on the furnace; one more bill I hadn't expected arrived; one more memory jumped into my brain that tore my heart open yet again. Some of it might have been the kindness of friends and family, as I continue to receive gifts and letters of condolence and sympathy, which although comforting tend to bring all my emotions bubbling to the surface. 

But I suspect that I've just reached the point of realizing that things aren't going to change. It's not a situation like when my husband went on a business trip for a week and I had to manage both kids and the house until he got home. This is it. This is how it is from now on. No one is coming to rescue me and fix all the mistakes I've made and the stuff I've screwed up while I was in charge. I AM in charge, and any screwups are mine to deal with. 

I hate it. 

And I'm going to keep hating it. But I'm also going to keep doing it. Because there isn't another option. Life doesn't stop because I'm struggling. I can't put my kids' lives on hold while I get my act together. All I can do is keep putting one foot in front of the other and dealing with today's problems today. I've always been a worrier, and right now I have plenty to worry about. But I'm trying not to worry any more than I need to. 

I keep thinking about the Bible verse that says, "My grace is sufficient for you," so I looked it up. The complete verse, 2 Corinthians 12:9, says, "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me." I hadn't realized (or at least, I had forgotten) that this verse is in the context of Paul talking about his "thorn in the flesh." We don't know exactly what this term refers to, but Paul describes it as being "a messenger of Satan, to torment me." Torment is a pretty strong word, so clearly, Paul was dealing with some stuff. And his response was not, "I am strong in the Lord, I can take this," but instead was more like, "I am weak, I can't deal with this alone." You and me both, Paul. I am weak. I can't deal with this alone. Human help is nice, and God bless my family and friends, I have a lot of it. But it's not enough. I need to rely on God's grace to get through this. 

And I will. But every now and then, I need to freak out a little bit. And that's okay. I'll be okay. But only by the grace of God. 

Words and Music

Ever since I was a little girl, two of my great pleasures in life have been reading and music. Even as an adult, I always have a few books on my Kindle or by my bedside that I read a few chapters from daily, and there is always music on in my house and in my car, and I'm frequently singing along with it. 

Over the past few months, grief had stolen both of those pleasures. I couldn't focus my mind long enough to follow the plot of a book, so although I occasionally picked up something to read, I put it down in frustration after a few minutes. And music in any form was so deeply associated with my husband that I could hardly bear to listen to it, and I couldn't sing a note without tears running down my face. Church was especially difficult, as the lyrics of the hymns were so deeply meaningful to me, and often spoke of pain and joy, one of which felt so close and one so incredibly distant. It made his loss even harder to bear, not having those lifelong comforts. 

But I have finally reached a point where I am beginning to be able to enjoy both books and music again. I began by reading a short chapter while I waited to pick up my son after his trombone lesson, or my daughter after her play rehearsal. Or I would put some music on while I was in the shower, so I could hear it, but distantly, or I would play some generic background music when guests came over. And as time has gone on, I've progressed to once again reading several chapters before bed - and, let's be honest, when I wake up in the middle of the night and can't get back to sleep - and turning on some music while I'm making dinner. I can even make it through the hymns at church without crying (most of the time).

One of the hardest parts of losing a spouse is that you lose the most crucial part of the system that supported and comforted you in difficult times. When I lost my mom, my husband was by my side to help me through it. When my brother-in-law died, I was by my husband's side to help him through it. But who do you turn to when the love of your life, your best friend, your confidante, your cheerleader, the one you always turned to, is the one you've lost? And when the things you used to do for comfort no longer comfort you, where do you turn?   

I am grateful for my faith in God, because there were times when I couldn't face even family and dear friends, and all I had to turn to was my faith. Psalm 34:18 says, "The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit," and I felt how true that was. Perhaps God chose to strip away all the human and earthly comforts I was used to in order to get me to focus on the only support I truly need, God Himself. And He has carried me through this darkest time of my life. 

I guess I must have shown that I do trust Him, and now I'm ready to embrace other comforts, and other pleasures. Like words, and music. I'm glad they're back. 

 

Celebrating Light

Today is the Hindu Festival of Diwali. I had never heard of Diwali until I moved to my current town, which has a large Indian population. So large that our school system has the day off for Diwali. So large, in fact, that there are multiple public celebrations of the holiday, including sometimes in the park across the street from where I live. 

If you're unfamiliar with the holiday, it is also called the Festival of Lights, and it is a multi-day celebration of the "victory of good over evil." Traditional celebrations include prayer, feasting, partying, music, family gatherings, fireworks, and lighting rows of clay lamps in homes and places of worship. According to the Hindu American Foundation, "The light from these lamps symbolizes the illumination within all of us, which can overcome ignorance, represented by darkness." The lights are necessary to welcome the goddess Lakshmi, who represents agriculture and abundance, into homes and temples, as Lakshmi cannot enter a dark space. Diwali is the beginning of the new year in the Hindu calendar, so it also represents a new beginning, starting fresh with a clean slate.

I love this symbolism. I am not Hindu, but since my community welcomes everyone to share in this joyous celebration, I am choosing to celebrate light and a new beginning alongside my neighbors. The past four months have been a time of darkness for me and my family. The struggle has gotten easier, but it is still a struggle. We all need to find ways to bring light into our lives again. Family, friends, music, good food, and light are all things that can lift our spirits and bring comfort to our souls. Yesterday was spent with cousins and siblings, and good food; today will be spent with friends and more good food, and prayer. And I will make sure there is plenty of physical light around, reminding us that we need to find our metaphorical light to continue to drive out the darkness and welcome in a new beginning in our lives where joy can return. 

We will celebrate the light. 

Bittersweet Endings

Yesterday, I went to see the final Downton Abbey movie. It was very bittersweet for me, not only because it was the end of a series I had thoroughly enjoyed, and the end of an interesting decades-long saga for the characters, but because it was the end of a journey I had begun with my husband and ended alone. 

My husband and I were surprisingly late to jump on the Downton Abbey train. I'm not sure why, but it took until his sister recommended it to him at the end of Season 1, and after watching the pilot episode, he announced excitedly that he knew I would love it (for the clothes, if nothing else), so we went back and watched the pilot together. And I was immediately hooked. 

The two of us didn't always have the same taste in shows and movies, although we loved finding things we could watch together. Most of the time, one of us loved a show and the other liked or at least tolerated it. 24, for example, was one of his favorites, and I thought it was just okay, but it was fun to watch together. The Great British Baking Show, on the other hand, was one that I loved and he thought was okay, but again, it was fun to watch together. Whenever we decided to watch a show together, each of us refrained from jumping ahead, waiting to watch an episode until we could do it together. Fortunately, we both loved Downton Abbey so much that we both eagerly watched each episode as soon as it was available. And when the series ended and the films were released, we went to see them together as soon as possible. Which meant that this final film was the only part of the series that I watched without him. 

It felt wrong. 

It didn't help that I went to a Tuesday matinee showing, which meant that the theater was nearly empty. I was as physically alone as I was emotionally alone. I was aware of every moment I would have leaned over and whispered a comment in his ear. I was very aware of every moment I would have put my hand on his knee. Near the end of the film, there is a lovely, tender moment between Lord and Lady Grantham where he tells her he loves her, and they reach for each other's hands, when I involuntarily lifted my hand to take his. But it wasn't there. He wasn't there. It was a moment of profound loneliness. 

And yet, it was also a moment of profound love, and of thankfulness that I had had the privilege of sharing so many years with someone who was touched by the moments that touched me, who actively sought out shared experiences, who was willing to spend time doing things he didn't love because I loved them. I saw some of us in every one of the beautiful love stories portrayed on the screen. 

I saw his loving tolerance of my awkwardness in Baxter's sweet smiles at Molesley. I saw his appreciation for my nudging him out of his occasional pigheadedness in Cora's standing her ground with Robert. I saw our romantic connection in Mary's memory of dancing with Matthew. I saw the sweetness of finding love at an older age in the relationships between Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes and between Mr. Mason and Mrs. Padmore. I remembered our early infatuation in the young love stage of Andy and Daisy. I thought of how I blossomed and developed confidence through our relationship as Edith stood up for opinions while Bertie stood back and watched with pride and affection. I thought of our hosting parties together as Cora managed things behind the scenes and Robert made a charming speech to their guests. 

And I saw myself in Mary, as she looked back at but memories of her past, recalling all the joyful moments she had spent in that house. And then the memories faded away, and she was left alone, facing the daunting task of managing Downton by herself. 

It was a bittersweet mix of happy memories and the pangs of loss. It was the ending of something we had begun together, but also the beginning of my learning to do things without him. I would rather have watched the movie with him, but I was still able to enjoy it alone. There are many things that I would rather be doing with him, but I am learning that I am able to do them alone. 

It's a bittersweet ending, but it's also a new beginning. Like the Downton characters, I can't see exactly where my future will lead, but I have confidence that things will somehow work out. I can look back and see all that I've overcome, and know that I can face whatever comes next. 

Even if I'm facing it alone.   

When It's Time to Change, Then It's Time to Change

I've always heard that when you go through a loss, such as the death of a spouse or other family member, it's a good idea to avoid making major decisions for quite some time, as long as a year or so. And for major decisions, I think that's wise. I'm not about to sell my house, or get a full-time job, or move to a different state, or buy a Ferrari, or start home-schooling my kids. But small changes can be therapeutic. They can help ease the transition from then to now. 

Which is why I've decided to make a few changes. Minor changes, to be sure; things like putting the inflatable Halloween tree in front of the house instead of in the back yard. 

I changed a number of our fall decorations in a small way: I put one of our lighted foam jack-o-lanterns on the porch instead of in the office window. I put the stuffed witch and skeleton that usually sit on the piano on either side of the antique Singer sewing machine instead (our cats often supervise family dinners from that location, so they are not fond of this change). I hung the scarecrow wreath in the kitchen instead of on the basement door. 

I got rid of some of our paid assistants, like our housecleaners and our lawn care crew. I am capable of cleaning the house and mowing the lawn with some help from the kids. Neither result is quite up to the same standard as when the professionals were in charge, but the work gets done. And if there are fingerprints on the refrigerator door, or the occasional dust kitty in a corner that the Roomba doesn't reach, or trails of lawn clippings across the yard, I'm okay with that. It's a change I can live with. 

I've changed my morning routine. I used to wake up around the same time as the kids and enjoy a cup of coffee in bed, not getting up until they were off to school. But I find I enjoy the peace and quiet of early morning as a preparation for the day, so now I get up before or right around sunrise and enjoy my coffee and morning crosswords as the sun is rising, so by the time the kids get on the bus I'm ready to start my day. 

I also decided to stop coloring my hair. I had dyed it red for a community theatre production I was in shortly before I met my husband (my online tagline was "Maryann disguised as Ginger" which tickled him to no end), and he was quite fond of the red (as was I), so I kept it up. But these days, dying my hair costs money and time that I'd rather spend elsewhere, and I'm curious as to how much gray is under there after nearly 20 years of Miss Clairol. So my last dye job was a couple of months ago, and I intend to shorten my cut periodically as my grey roots get longer. 

The awkwardness of the transition seems appropriate for the awkwardness of my current life transition. 

See? Awkward.

After all, the earlier state of both my life and my hair was something healthy that I liked and wanted to stick with, and the final state of both my life and my hair will be something healthy that I will like and want to stick with. But the middle ground, that awkward stage of "neither fish nor fowl" will likely be, well, awkward. It has been - and will continue to be - ugly, at times. It will look to others like I don't know what I'm doing (they're not wrong), or that I'm making terrible choices, or that I'm not taking care of myself they way they think I should. But I have a goal in mind, and I have a plan of how to get there. It's not a smooth road. I'll probably stumble and get lost along the way. There's a good chance I'll wish I had made different choices now and then. But I'll see it through. I'll endure the awkwardness for the sake of the final result. And if I get to that end result, and decide eventually that I didn't make the right choice? Well, the nice thing about both life and hair is that you can always change your mind. You may not be able to undo what was done, but you can always move forward. You just have to continue growing. 

The Stage of Mixed Feelings

The process of grief is an emotional roller coaster. You experience sorrow, fear, anger, guilt, relief, denial, numbness, frustration, anxiety, often in rapid succession. And sometimes you feel multiple feelings at the same time. I have reached a stage of constant mixed feelings. 

I am approaching four months since my husband passed away, and I feel like to some degree my emotions have begun to stabilize. The grief is still there, a constant undercurrent, but it is less raw. I have learned to manage it, to push it aside when I need to deal with practical issues, and to let it loose at an appropriate moment when I need a release. But what is still hard to manage are the constantly conflicting feelings. 

I think this is part of the "guilt" portion of the Kubler-Ross stages of grief. I am starting to learn to live life without him, and I feel like I shouldn't be able to do that. But at the same time, I am struggling to learn to live life without him, and I feel like I should be able to do that. I rejoice at my independence but I feel guilty about my independence. It's a conflict between knowing in my head that it's okay to be okay while at the same time feeling in my heart that I should never be able to be okay again. It's confusing, it's frustrating, and it's exhausting. 

Any time I think about changing anything about our lives or making a decision he might not have made, whether it's cutting my hair or decorating the house differently for the holidays or taking a trip or letting my daughter dye her hair or letting my son go to a rap concert, I feel like I'm betraying him in a way. Should I be respecting his opinion even if he isn't here to express it? Do I have a responsibility to honor his wishes even after his death? Or does taking on the role of father as well as mother give me permission to make decisions for our household completely on my own, without trying to guess what he would have done? The emotional weight of every decision, large or small, is intensified a hundredfold.

But the bottom line is that he's not here, and I am. I'm the one making the decisions, I'm the one running the show, whether I want to or not. And all I can do is the best I can. I make my choices based on what I know and how I feel. I listen to my heart as well as my head. I look to those around me for guidance and reassurance. And I pray. A LOT. 

I sometimes ask myself what he would say if he were here. I imagine how the conversation would have gone if we were discussing it together. After all, we had hundreds, probably thousands of discussions about family-related decisions over the course of our marriage. I don't always know exactly what he would have thought or said, but I do know that in the end, he would always have supported me. He was, after all, as he frequently reminded me, my Fan Club President. 

And I know he still is.