September Always Brings Memories

Every year, when September comes around, I feel it in my body before I even realize what day it is. The air shifts, the days shorten, and suddenly memories start pressing on my heart. Some people look forward to fall. But for me, September has always been heavy.

It was in September that’s the month my son died, it is the month of my oldest son's birthday, and the month of my grandson's death. Layer after layer of grief, all tied to the same month. September doesn’t just mark the change of seasons for me—it marks the people I’ve had to say goodbye to.

So when the leaves start to turn, I don’t just see fall colors. I see absence. I feel the empty spaces and the pressure of suppressed memories where laughter, birthdays, and milestones should have been. It’s a month full of reminders that the people I loved aren’t here anymore.

For a long time, I didn’t understand why September always put me in a mood. I would find myself irritable, withdrawn, even crying for no clear reason. But through counseling, I realized: my body remembers, even when my mind tries to move on.

So now, 18 years after the death of my son, I try to honor that. I give myself space to feel the weight instead of pushing it down. I name the memories instead of running from them. And most importantly, I let God meet me there.

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Because here’s the thing—God isn’t scared of my September grief. He knows what this month means to me. He knows how many tears I’ve cried, how many words I’ve never spoken, and how many memories I have yet to acknowledge. And instead of rushing me past it, He sits with me in it.

When the memories rise, I remember that He was there then, and He’s here now. Holding me. Comforting me. Carrying me when the weight feels too much.

If you have a month, a season, or even a song that stirs up pain in you, I want you to know this: you’re not alone. Grief has a way of circling back, and sometimes it shows up on the calendar before it shows up in our minds.

But you don’t have to face it by yourself. The same God who walked me through every September is with you, too. He doesn’t erase the memories, but He does give strength to carry them.

He saved me. And He keeps saving me—every September, and every day in between.