Dad, now if we don’t count down on New Year’s Eve, won’t it be New Year’s too?
I don’t want a New Year, I don’t want a countdown, I’ll go to bed on time. Then do we do that tomorrow is just still this year?
it is a completely logical train of thought for this boy (let’s call him Sam). In October, Dad received the verdict: “incurably ill. With a life expectancy of 3 months. The” holidays “became days in which extra thought was also given to the upcoming goodbye. And that was confronting. For the whole family. Because it suddenly became” the last time that… And even though this family found the space to not keep pointing to “the last time,” it was pretty clearly experienced that way.
Sam didn’t want it to be December 21. Because he knew damn well, that the time in which he could be with Dad was getting shorter and shorter. Even though no one had really told him that. But the tension around the holidays, the fact that Dad had to take it easy more often, Grandpa and Grandma dropping by randomly more often, these were all signs to him that something was going on.
So, this smart person had figured out, if Dad dies in the New Year, and we don’t do a New Year, maybe Dad won’t die either.
Unfortunately, of course, it didn’t work that way. And we were able to talk about that very well with Sam.