Snow Days and Staying In

 A snow day is probably not unusual in Toronto, but 2 within a matter of 12 days is unbelievable indeed. Today, January 26^th, is the second snow day. The first one was on January 15^th.

What I enjoyed about these snow days is that I got to spend time with Hans. We live in the same abode but barely see each other. On the 15^th, we got to collaborate on a “sub app”, as part of the application process to universities, and it was a lot of fun. That day was the first of a few deadlines. It was for IVEY. One of their requirements was two 500-word essays.

Hans wondered if I could edit his 2 essays. This was only the second time, as a high school student, that Hans has asked me for academic support. I felt useful and glad that I was available. I was also relieved that he didn’t use my status as a single mom! Hans’ first essay was about the martial arts program he is enrolled in. He started the essay by talking about the reasons that steered him in that direction. He listed 3 - COVID, since that led to virtual school and isolation in March 2020; the passing away of his paternal grandfather in December 2021; and the death of his paternal grandmother in June 2022. It was a well written essay, and it was over the word limit! My job was to bring its content just under the limit without taking away the essence of its intent.

(The essay got me thinking of all the other terrible things that happened in Hans’ life - his parents separating, the loss of the only family home he had known, and the sense of abandonment he felt when his dad left him. The boy did not use any of those sob stories.)

The first time Hans and I cried in unison was at a grocery store, right after we settled in ASid at his residence on campus in August 2019 and said goodbye to him. As we got out of the car and walked into the grocery store, it hit us both, at the same time, that our life would be different without ASid. In a very public display of emotion, we hugged each other and let the tears roll down our cheeks. Hans was 11 years old then. After that, I have only seen Hans cry twice.

When he heard the news of his paternal grandfather’s death, his grief was unbearable to him and bewildering to me. Hans’ dad decided to break off all ties with his parents when Hans was 2 years old. The boy never had a relationship with his grandparents and yet, he was distraught. He shared that he had been waiting for the time when he would be independent enough to renew those severed relationships, and he realized that he wasn’t going to have that opportunity. Then, I understood the great loss he felt. At the funeral service, he finally met his paternal grandmother who couldn’t recognize her own child, Hans’ dad, as she was suffering from dementia. That was the end of Hans’ surviving bit of hope.

The most recent and last time Hans cried was when we came to check out the apartment buildings we currently reside in. I guess he knew for certain that his life was about to change in a way he didn’t want it to. We were in my parents’ car. Hans was 14 years old then. I was glad that he felt safe enough to be vulnerable with his mother and her parents.

Yesterday, he remarked that this year he will be 18, and then, he can longer make wish lists for his birthdays and Christmas. So, I told him that as long as his parents are alive, he will always be a child in a way. Hans quickly responded with “Mom, promise me that you are never going to die.”, and I told him that I would try. And we spent some time watching Ninjago … his favourite series that he discovered when he was just 3 years old!

Since we knew today was going to be a snow day, we rejoiced and cashed in our extra free time a little early. I am thankful for the unexpected breaks that are bestowed on us. I am so going to miss my time with Hans when he is off to live his life on a campus that is lucky to have him!