I don't know what it is about Fall...some people really love the Fall, football starts, leaves change to beautiful brilliants colors, school starts and they finally have free time, the heat subsides. Not me. Fall is a blanket that covers me with sadness like a pile of raked, dead leaves. I hate the cold weather, turtlenecks and skin that feels like parchment paper. I swear every winter I'm moving to Florida. I sat at the pool twice this week trying to squeeze in my last bit of sunshine. I was one of three people there. I read Anne Lamott's chapter about her dog dying and cried. I hate Fall more now because it reminds me my father died two years ago in September. Dewey Beach Music Festival officially ends the summer here. For many it's the last big hoo-ha of the summer. It's cool to have such a big festival so close to home. It should be fun but... Rehobeth is where my parents, correction, my mom lives. I drive past Lewes and recollect time spent driving to Beebe Hospital, white gowns and IV's, time that seems to stand still in me. Every fall I think I haven't been to the beach enough this summer. But now the beach reminds me that my dad is gone. If I avoid it, I can pretend he's still alive down there, watering his tomatoes and gargantuan cucumbers, playing softball and throwing darts at the American Legion.  Last week I remembered how he taught me to body surf in the ocean. Good thoughts. And then comes Dewey Beach Music Conference, every year like the pressure of another New Year's Eve without a date telling me "get out the coat and put away the flipflops; winter is on it's way." One of these days I'm getting out the suitcase and moving...somewhere warm, somewhere near the ocean, somewhere with no fall and no winter. And you thought I was an eternal optimist...