10/15/2026
There's something about fall days. The cool air. Sun rays making their way through the clouds, enough to tingle your face and give you a sense of warmth, and you still run back into the house for a sweatshirt. There's something about the smell, too. I don't mean pumpkin latte scented hand wash. I mean the smell of cold air in the morning, of gray rainy days and dark skies. It's all so beautiful, and for me it's also a reminder of days that cannot be washed away with the fall rain.
Days of looking out the clinic window while Jennah got an infusion. Movies playing in the background while she lay in my lap, cuddled in her favorite blanket, her chemo dripping. Those movies are forever engraved in my memory with the rain, the gray skies, the chemo, and the clinic.
Cold nights, and the guilt of being under warm blankets when my child never will have that chance again. I hate cold evenings, but I love fall. I don't like all my memories, but I like that I get to see her face when I close my eyes, even when it's with a drip, or in a clinic.
I am grateful this fall, not only for her memory but for the people carrying it.
Two weeks ago, the Oneida Girls' Field Hockey team honored cancer warriors during one of their games, those fighting and those who have passed. One special young lady reached out and asked if they could include Jennah in the ceremony. The boys' varsity soccer team was there, along with members of the football team.
On the hill, on a windy, chilly afternoon, we stood as they read the names, Jennah's being one of them. Girls who never met her. Who would have been no older than 7 or 8 when she passed. They chose to include her, and that was warm.
I loved that cold fall day. As much as I wish she could be here, I am always grateful that even when she isn't, she is remembered.
