The Scenic Route

October holds so much for me.

Owen's birthday. My wedding to Shane. Moving into our condo. Shane's death. The church I grew up in closing. Health issues, hospitalizations, heartache. New life to hold and love. Moving out of our condo and in with family. Twice.

I have been caught in October's emotions year after year. This year hit like a tsunami. I have been fighting the riptide for weeks upon weeks, with health scares, mood swings, and paralyzing uncertainty. The trees outside are as bright as the beautiful colors of 2016 that made no sense when my world was crumbling. Last night, thunder rumbled and winter drew closer.

Thursday marks 9 years. Nine years since I waited until morning to let my son know his stepdad was dead, then took him trick-or-treating at church, because what else do you do with a child when you are gasping for air? Everyone else was surprised to see us, but it was the place I needed to be with the people I needed to see.

Shane was 43 and always will be. Owen had just turned 9. I look at his sister and his cousin turning 9 this fall and can't imagine that he was so little and given so much heaviness to hold. I am catching up with Shane at 40 now and, God-willing, will live many more years. It didn't take long to live longer as a widow than as his wife.

I am holding on through this season, trying to be patient with the rollercoaster ride. Sometimes I come up for air long enough to sigh with relief. Owen stays glued to my side, riding the same current, not sure which of us is playing the role of lifeguard. He tries to be the man of the house, but he's still my little boy.

Know there are millions of people riding similar waves of grief, new and old, every day. Be gentle and bring peace wherever you can.

Debbie Darrow
October 2025