December 13

And now I suddenly have time to blog every day.

One thing I didn’t want to get into yesterday was this date: December 13. It’s global Children’s Memorial Day. It is marked by lighting a candle (outdoors) if possible at 7 pm in your time zone. If done right, a wave of candles will pass across the globe on this day to remember the dead children.

The hospice does a program every year. We went last year. It was a lot to take in, it being our first time participating. We didn’t know what to expect, what to happen, what to do or whether we had to pay for the food provided at the end. Above is his name, as we wrote it on the list of children being remembered. I’m not sure we had a family consensus at the end of the event whether it was an event we wanted to participate in annually or not.

It’s all kind of academic this year. The hospice is doing the event again this year and it sounds like they’re taking great pains to make sure everyone has their own space during this time of pandemic. Instead of bunching all the candles together in the garden, a chain of lights will stretch down the street.

But we can’t go. I’m working. Our car (RIP) has finally given up the ghost. It’s almost like giving up one more memory of Colin, when you think about the number of times we drove that car to the hospital and the hospice and the emergency room and the physical therapist and the rehab center. So, there’s just no way we’re going to try to pack up the kids immediately after my shift ends and take an unnecessary trip on public transportation across town during a pandemic.

But we will stop at 7 pm and light a candle in our backyard. If anyone else feels so inclined, I’d encourage it. And, let’s be honest, aside from the two or three people who read this blog whose property happens to be in a line of sight from my house, I’ll never know if you do it or not. But it makes me feel a little better knowing that there will be lights for Colin and all the other kids in a week. It’s not much, but it’s not nothing either.