Dearest Rachel –
Well, that serves me right for trying to draft a letter to you while waiting for things to shake out. It’s amazing how much things can change in a matter of a few hours.
I’ll start at the beginning, as best I can, since it’s not really my story – I’m just a bit player in it, an observer acting like a one-man Greek chorus. You see, Daniel has been fighting off what all of us basically wanted to assume was a head cold for the past week (he wasn’t able to assist me with the family fun fest right before Halloween, for instance – thankfully, the church had enough volunteers floating around that he wasn’t needed, and no one would have wanted him spreading whatever germs he might have had around, at any rate, least of all him).
This would pose a problem for him this weekend, as he was planning on joining Logan at the MLP convention in Milwaukee. You might guess that, given the demographics of those attending the convention, a requirement of a negative Covid test was to be expected, even if he wasn’t dealing with… something. And while he is well-known for his disdain for the whole Covid panic, he cannot but agree that he has been ill with something. Best to prove to the powers that be that it’s not the thing they all fear – to the exclusion of everything else. But his test came back negative, so whatever he has would thus be of absolutely no concern to those running the convention. And for that brief moment, I thought I might have the house to myself for an extended weekend.
Except… no. Even as we were walking back into the house after taking the test, Daniel was musing over his own ambivalence regarding its outcome. As much as he enjoys being with Logan, it’s different this year. You’re not there, of course, and neither is Erin (besides her topsy-turvy work schedule – honestly, I will never be able to comprehend working a graveyard shift like she does, even though I know it’s necessary for someone to do it, and I admire that she’s willing to – she’s battling a cold of her own at this point. November is just that kind of month, honey, as you well remember), so Logan is the only person he knows there this time around. Oh, he’s met some of the guests, most of whom are returning from previous years’ conventions, but that’s little more than a nodding acquaintance as opposed to actually knowing them. So his circle has been cut in half, from four to two – or rather, from three other people to one. And with Logan busy working as a volunteer he would effectively be quite alone there, and he wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t prefer in the moment whether his test came back positive, as at least he’d have an excuse to stay home.
Now, I planned on staying home from the ‘office,’ just long enough to see the boys off; so when we returned from the drug store, I set myself down in the family room, intending to hang out watching stuff with Daniel like we haven’t been doing much of for the past few weeks. However, he headed up to the bathroom… and didn’t come down for hours, even once Logan got home early from his job in order to take off for the convention. This was unexpected, to say the least; I’m aware that he takes these long baths, of course, but only a couple of times a week, and I thought I remembered him doing this just a couple days ago.
But it seems he was doing so in order to clear his head, rather than to cleanse his body so much. It was a big decision to make, between being cleared to go, but still feeling unwell, and pondering whether it was worth it, even though he’d purchased his ticket. Look, I’ve been there, not too long ago – although mine was more of a decision for the future rather than one for the present (although, come to think of it, that’s come up, too; but that one was clearly more your thing than mine, so I don’t consider it that much of a loss) – and it’s hard to let go of a tradition, just as it’s hard to let go of you.
But sometimes, I suppose, it’s what has to be done.
It’s strange to think that Daniel would be perfectly welcome there; despite a negative test, he’s still coughing and sniffling. The others would undoubtably be looking askance at him for it, even if they were perfectly aware that he didn’t have Covid. And maybe that factored into his decision. I don’t know; I’m not in his head. Maybe if he was feeling better, he’d be riding with Logan at this moment up to Milwaukee, and I’d be telling you about this from an otherwise empty house. Maybe next year, he will, and I will.
But for now, keep an eye on him, honey, and wish him luck. He’s going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 