I stood rooted to the spot and stared at my father’s grave. He had died over a year ago. The day of his death was over and on the last Sunday before Advent commemorating the dead, which wasn’t long ago, his family had paid him a visit. It was strange to be here now. I had always thought I would notice or feel it, if someone of my family wouldn’t be alive anymore. Just like it was with twins. They say they could feel each other’s emotions even when they’re miles apart. But it probably was typical, that I didn’t feel anything, as I had never had a very close relationship with my father. There had never been an emotional bond between us. And apparently my other relatives had wiped me out of their memories, too. I knew they believed I was dead. But to see my name not being engraved on the tombstone hurt me more than I would admit. Didn’t I deserve a spot on there as well? After all, I was part of the family! But my relatives didn’t agree, obviously. My obituary had put an end to all of that for them. They had made a clean break with it. The family ties had been cut off, irretrievably.
The wind was icy cold. Snowflakes fell softly down on me. I pulled the collar of my coat tighter around my neck. I didn’t just feel winter’s cold on the outside. I got cold inside, too. As if the season became a part of me and made my inside cold and numb. With great difficulty, I managed to break away from this place. All I wanted was to get back to St. Mary’s church and Father Michael. Tonight was no good night to continue to hunt monsters. There were enough demons in me of which I had to get rid of.
I turned away from the grave and its flower greetings and trotted over the gloomy graveyard. Every step of the way was difficult for me. It seemed to me as if the snow already reached to my knees and I had to fight hard to make headway. I thought about calling the Father to ask him to pick me up, as I was afraid of collapsing and didn’t know, whether I would win a fight against a monster on the way back. But I was too far away from the church. In an hour, he would never be able to make it here and back again. He would die doing so. And that was something I definitely didn’t want to be blamed for. No, the Father could not help me. I was on my own. I couldn’t allow myself to be distracted by my sad find and dismal thoughts, but had to concentrate on my surroundings. I had to arrive safely at home. Then I was allowed to surrender to my sadness.