I seem to have a harder and harder time making time to write here. I wouldn’t say I’ve lost interest. It simply seems less pressing than it did a year ago. I can’t quite decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
There are other factors. Whatever is going on at work is taking a certain amount of my energy. Ditto whatever is going on with my health. Also, I’ve discovered online crosswords, which is a huge time suck. And then, as time goes on, different ideas pop into my head and what I should write about and then I can’t decide which topic should become my priority and then it all turns into a muddle.
So, perhaps I just had a sign. We decided to get new appliances and the dishwasher and refrigerator were just delivered, which involved a certain amount of drama with deliverymen showing up five hours earlier than scheduled and then the dishwasher that was delivered being a slightly different model than what was ordered. So, normal life.
And yet … Because of the early arrival, we had dishes in the washer that we were going to run after breakfast and not enough clean plates. So, Christina grabbed Colin’s old plate, which has been at the bottom of our dishes drawer pretty much ever since he went to the hospital in 2018. I still haven’t decided if it was pleasant or a shock to see it out on the breakfast table this morning. Then, when the delivery guys pulled the old fridge out, we found 6 euros beneath it. Colin used to lie on the floor in front of the fridge and pass small items beneath the vent. Who knew he had also learned to steal money from us?
It all makes me wonder. I’ve asked myself once or twice if this Christmas, our second without him, will be easier or harder. You’d think we’d be more used to his absence. But when we’re reminded of him, it’s more jarring. Emma read a book a few weeks ago about kids being separated from their parents. That set off a crying jag. Emma and Noah were on a Zoom call with the bereaved siblings group and were asked to get a picture of Colin. Instead of interrupting me at work (bonus points!) they decided to print one off of their laptop. But they didn’t warn me that a picture of my dead son would suddenly spit out of the printer next to where I was working. I found one of his old Playmobil toys while making the beds – one I had been certain I’d moved upstairs along with all the other old children’s toys.
I suppose it doesn’t help that we’re all still under this partial lockdown which, in Germany, seems to provide the added bonus of annoying everyone while not doing much to prevent the virus’ spread. Maybe this would all be easier if we could head to a Christmas market and take our annual trip to the Christmas circus, instead of spending so much time locked in this house with the memories of Colin. It’s my first attempt to write Christmas cards in two years, writing “We’re doing OK” and wondering what percentage of that sentence is a fib. I suppose it’s just one more month in this weird season. I guess the real question is whether the months keep on getting weirder or if we can hope for something like normal.
♥️