Carrying On

We were supposed to be going to some rollercoaster in the hills today. Of course, with Ethan being sick, they won’t be able to make it. They weren’t able to move or refund the booking, so the few of us remaining here have been encouraged to go anyway. It always feels a little bit wrong. Should you carry on without someone?

It’s quiet here. Strangely so. But I feel grateful for the slow time. Sitting alone in silence. Hearing the ticking clock. The gentle buzzing of the boiler. Or perhaps someone else’s washing machine. Feeling no rush. Looking around and appreciate the odd quantity of meerkats. Cat photos. Cat figurines. Lots of cats. It is quiet, but it doesn’t feel complete.

With the absence of someone close to you, guilt comes easily. Naturally, you don’t want them to miss out. You’d like to respect them. Equally though, there’s the sentiment that they would have wanted you to…

I think there’s a lot of merit to that. You can address the decision in the vacuum. Irrespective of whatever happened, carrying on—if you truly want to—isn’t disrespectful, I don’t believe. Where would you draw the line? The person you’re waiting for probably doesn’t want you to wait. At least I wouldn’t.

As I just learned, it won’t actually matter in this case! Ethan has recovered and been discharged. Thankfully he can join us. But a relevant dilemma nonetheless.