Surviving Autumn

Autumn is famously known by everyone alive to be a season of great change, both in the obvious weather patterns, fall colors and pumpkin obsessions. But for Maggie, all of her “big life events” always seemed to happen in the fall.

Leaving home for college.

Moving in with best friends after grad school.

Nailing the perfect job.

Dad passing away just before Thanksgiving.

And meeting Jeff. Falling in love in the fall, so perfect, and so timely to fill the void of losing her father.

And for two years, autumn came and went without incident. The morning that her pregnancy test came back positive was met with mixed feelings. Jeff was elated, planning out the timeline and immediately asking for her hand in marriage. Maggie was spinning in an emotional cyclone, unable to grasp what was happening. Weeks later on her way to work, she cramped up, and found herself in the emergency room miscarrying the baby.

It was as if her “now” was at war with her future, when without warning the phone call came on that dreadful November morning. Jeff was gone. Skidding on the wet highway, tumbling over the embankment. Gone. Maggie knew the feeling of “walls crashing in”, and spent the rest of the year in virtual silence. No baby, no husband, no hope.

Grief is a funny motivator. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross said there were stages to it, but Maggie wasn’t progressing past denial. Life had to go on, but how? Outside of moving into her own condo, and choosing to live alone, nothing had changed since Jeff died. Job was fine. Family and friends were attentive. Perhaps the nightly glass or two of wine added nuance to her routine, but solitude suited her best. This year she had no expectation of what autumn would bring, but there was a bit of anticipation verging on hope when September rolled around.

And then it happened.

At dusk, in late September, the sound of incessant knocking woke her from her stupor. After checking the peephole only to find no one out there, curiosity won, so she opened the door. Only a puppy in a basket on the porch. The note read, “Please take care of Luna – she’s a rescue and you need rescuing.”

Her thoughts were racing, and after looking around realizing that whoever left this puppy was nowhere to be seen, brought it inside. Having had some experience with dogs from childhood, she poured water in a dish, and used her DoorDash app to order puppy kibble. On examination she was happy it was a female pup, and looked to be a mix of Labrador and Pitbull. Okay so she’s cute. Now what? “So, you’re Luna, eh?” The response was sloppy face-licking with lots of wiggling and tail wagging.

She checked the dog tag on the collar, hoping for a clue. In big letters it said “If found, call Jeff” with an unknown phone number. “Jeff? Weird…”

The second knock at the door that night was the DoorDash driver. Thanking him, she started to shut the door when she looked across the street, where the HOA amenities included a playground area for families with children. The streetlights had come on, and in the distance she saw a little girl all alone, sitting on a swing. Just as she was going to call out, the girl turned and ran to a tall man, and they walked away hand-in-hand. The only sound she heard was the delighted little voice saying, “Hi Daddy!”

Discombobulated was the only word that came to her mind. Feed puppy. Block off area in kitchen to contain puppy. Take a shower. Eat something. Call Mom to tell her she got a puppy. On the other hand, don’t call mom.

What she felt compelled to do was call the phone number on the dog tag. Why would someone leave a puppy with a note to rescue the dog, and also leave a phone number to call? So strange.

Nervously she dialed the number. It rang three times, and went to voicemail. The recording was in Jeff’s voice simply saying, “Hi Maggie, I’ve missed you.”

Dropping her phone was nothing compared to passing out and hitting her head on the coffee table before landing on the floor. Her last memory was of Jeff picking her up and walking them over to join their little girl. “This makes sense - Autumn. Of course I would choose to die in Autumn.”