Hi people. How’s it going? I hope all of you readers are doing well. I’m not doing to well myself. Its 2:30 in the morning and I can’t sleep, I have no electricity besides the 22% charge left on my computer, I have a horrible flu, and I’m stuck in my house in the Swiss Alps because of a huge snowstorm.
My parents bought this house a few days after my Aunt Celia died 3 years ago. My Aunt Celia was in a fatal plane accident, while she was coming to Zurich to surprise my mother for her birthday. My mom stopped everything in her life and moved to the new house hoping to “reconnect with her soul”, as she called it. Nobody saw her or even knew about her because she pulled a Sabbath and didn’t use electricity for her entire stay at the new house. I didn’t worry I knew she was fine. I’d write her letters wishing her the best, however she never answered them. Aunt Celia’s death destroyed the fragile relationships between the members of my family: those relationships that we barely had. My father, brother and I were devastated so we all turned towards our daily basic little routines, hopping that it no time it would all pass and mother would be home being herself, but our stupid little routines only made matters worse. We didn’t talk to each other, and barely communicated. For a month or so I went to a shrink everyday after school. I told my dad about it, but he didn’t seem very concerned about my mental sanity. I’d give everything in the world to have a normal family, a loving family, a family that cared.
Well, I’m going to sleep now. It has been a pleasure writing today. Thanks for reading. I appreciate your support and feel free to comment.
Goodnight folks,
Henry Friedman
My house in the Alps
My house in the Alps
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