The day approaches

We got the question for the first time about a week ago: “Do you have plans for September 17?”

I don’t know what it says about where my head is, because my first instinct was to ask “Why? What’s up that day?” Like, even if that weren’t the first anniversary of Colin’s death during this time of pandemic, someone would be inviting us out to the hot new bar downtown or something.

I have to say I’m approaching this week with the weirdest sense of calm. I met my therapist yesterday (I’ll blog about that later) and had to tell him that, honestly, I’m more upset at this point about the impending end of my therapy sessions than I am about the birthday. A friend asked me if I’m bracing for Thursday and, again honestly (as if I’d be doing this blog to tell lies about how I feel) I’m not worked up about it.

I don’t think September 17 stands out for me as the day I lost my son because while, yes, that’s the day that stands on the death certificate, we’d lost him in such drips and drops for the weeks and months before that that he was all but gone by that day. Is the day I lost him the day we found out for sure that the tumor had returned? The day we threw the towel in and moved to the hospice? The last day I remember him really showing an interest in toys or books? I have no idea, but – at this moment – September 17 just seems like a day we have to note. Maybe I’ll have completely different thoughts about this in 48 hours. But, right now, it is a day that I will mark, not because I have to but because I want and need to do something to note the day. But I can’t claim that I’m worked up about it at this point.

That said, it is going to be a weird week. I’m absolutely not in love with the fact that this whole nightmare means my birthday will for the rest of my life fall two days before the anniversary of his death. It is odd thinking “It’s my birthday. Cake! Gifts!” knowing that we’ve got to brace for a complete turnaround in emotions in two days. I’m staying home most of this week, partially because I have so much vacation to burn off, but also because we’re not convinced that the kids won’t feel simply unable to cope with it all in the next few days. We already had them both home for parts of last week and the jury is still out on whether they were actually sick or whether the impending anniversary was starting to throw them off balance. We still haven’t decided if we’re going to pull them out of school on Thursday.

We really don’t know what we’re going to do. Germans have this concept of “Todestag,” which translates to nothing more than “Death Day.” But I don’t know what one is expected to do on this day, save go to the gravesite and remember the person. Which doesn’t seem like nearly enough. But I also don’t know how big of a production you want to make out of something like this. I suppose at the end we’ll just do what we think we can handle and that will end up being what is “right” for the day. But it’s a screwed-up way to spend a week.