Is the apple adventure?

I receive news of Dan's move secondhand from one of my parents. My brother vacated his house for the last time a week ago. Until he leaves on the 26th, just after Christmas, his family will live out of a motel.

This does not seem like the most logical way to affect this move, but I have never gone more than an hour from the last apartment, once going only half a mile to my current residence. They should have it all cleaned out before the holidays, the lion's share of his family's possessions waiting for their arrival in Longview.

I don't know if my niblings are still attending school in person or if there would be a point to this. Texas will offer a far different school system than New York -- as an educator for over a decade, I am aware of just how divergent the curricula can be and that most textbook companies bend to the whims of Texas.

There is not a person in this situation who would have or be eager to give me the answer to their schooling situation. I have no legitimate reason to ask beyond idle curiosity.

Christmas will be the last time I see Dan's family for an indefinite while. When I mention to my parents that I am beginning planning for our August family vacation -- it does not pay to procrastinate these things -- my father tells me that I need not plan for thirteen guests, but a more humble five. Dan's family will not be returning for vacation, at least not this year. I am not overly surprised, having already expressed doubt that it would be worth the expense to him, but it does give me pause that we are abandoning the pretense that he will return before Dan has even opened the first box in his new home.

I can't circle a date on the calendar that will signal our reunion after this month. Flip to 2023, and perhaps Dan returns to the optimism of Christmas and vacation. I may not be Pollyanna enough to take it on faith.

My niblings will drive down to Texas and arrive before New Year's Eve into their new home. I will recede in the rearview mirror, smaller every second until I vanish entirely.

Though I do not expect anything more personal, I doubt my niblings will be shyer about sending me generic messages on their phones. We don't have the sort of relationship where they would see a reason for it, and it would only come off as strange to change that in a week. This does not mean that I will not attempt some telephonic Hail Mary, simply that I am aware it will be peculiar.

Yet, likely that it is well-established by now, it feels less dire than it did in the summer, when I could still harbor some tiny doubt that maybe it wouldn't, and I would sad over it for nothing. This Christmas should not need its uniqueness highlighted, at least near my mother. She said the next couple of months would be hard for her, that she must get through them. What will this get us to, though? Valentine's Day? But I prefer her with finite goals, not an uncertain forever. Let her conquer two months, get to spring, and reevaluate the ache.

last watched: Hit-Monkey
reading: Half Asleep in Frog Pajamas