Santa Fe, New Mexico, October 31, 2012.
9:30 pm. Our doorbell rings. It is not a late trick-or-treater, but a policeman who comes to announce us the inconceivable.
Aside from the absurdity of Matthias’ absence from now and forever, the first thoughts that cross my mind are about all the things that the girls and I will no longer be able to do, or only with pain and sadness. Celebrating all the Christmas and New Year’s Eves ahead of us. Coming up with great gift and party ideas for the girls’ birthdays. Inviting friends. Hiking without getting lost. Bird-watching – his passion more than ours. Skiing in Santa Fe or in the Alps. Taking weekend trips or visiting our friends in California and Vancouver. Going back to our schools and workplace in Switzerland. Graduating. We’ll never make it.
A few weeks later, a neighbor invites me over for coffee. I don’t know her. She is in her early 60s, kind and quiet. Her husband died 10 years ago, and she has just started seeing someone again for the first time. Ten years! The perspective of navigating alone through life for the next ten years terrifies me. Sharing the responsibility and joy of raising the girls, taking small and big decisions, looking forward to retiring age… alone? I’ll never make it.
But the dawn of November 1st rises, and we get up to take baby steps. For the dreaded first milestone of Christmas, we mix old and new family traditions. Late March, the girls bravely hold birthday parties, fun but different. We hike often and don’t get lost. When we watch birds, Marie carries Matthias’ binoculars. The girls find out that they enjoy skiing alone too. While in December 2012 I was exhausted even after just one hour of driving, in June 2013 we travel along the Pacific Coast for two weeks.
During that first year, we survived every “first” without Matthias. One day at a time, we made it to October 31st, 2013. And step by step, we made it to today. The girls and I are doing just fine. Hannah is living her dream of being a film maker, Marie is thriving as a 2nd year med student. We still miss Matthias, but we made it. It felt impossible, but it was not.