I Swear You Will Be Fine

A 120 days. 4 months. Truly unbelievable. I glanced at your urn when the surrounding flowers were briefly removed 2 days ago and the lightning bolt hit again. I was like – no way, has this really happened? How have we survived? But we are ploughing along. So many things in our lives are helping us survive. The beautiful sun I see when I intentionally take the longer route to work. The very distant colleague who I hardly know making the effort to come over and greet me yesterday when I visited her medical centre, knowing what had happened and giving me a comforting hug. The colleague who on her last day hugged me and said she was thinking of me everyday. The sweet, sweet friend who bumped into me at the supermarket and gave me the biggest of hugs. The close friend having me do aqua spin this evening (yes, I know Josh). The friends who are closer than sisters, constantly distracting me with breakfasts, lunches and dinners. Being able to walk into your room and whisper good morning and good night to you. Surely all these blessings are reasons to keep living.

When you were little, like about 2-3 years old, you were infatuated with marine life. Everything was about fish and other aquatic animals. Your room was decorated with “fish” curtains, your quilt cover and bed sheets were of various fish. Ammamma’s neighbour would say you would grow up to be a marine biologist.

I was thinking of some of the first few family holidays we took, to neighbouring beach places. It was mainly because we wanted resorts with Kids Clubs, so you and Jess would be entertained. The first was Phuket, and then I think Langkawi, Kota Kinabalu and Krabi. 

At the time, a more intense infatuation was with puffer fish. The first one we saw was while walking on the beach in Phuket. It was a dead puffer fish, but it had blown up. You were so interested in it. You immediately squatted down and were trying to prod it, with a little stick. We couldn’t get you away. You were amazed at how it had “puffed” up.

Since then, every time we went on a beach holiday, you would look for puffer fish. And amazingly, we would always find one. Mostly while walking on the beach. It would always totally thrill you. It almost became a mission to be accomplished.

A few days ago, I met an old friend who I hadn’t seen in awhile. It was nice to spend some time with her. She asked me if my nights were bad. And I said, strangely, it’s the mornings that are bad.

And that is because I have a game I play with you every night. It is something I look forward to when I go to sleep, and something I started just a few days after you died. The game changes every night. I come up with something we do together, mostly things we didn’t, and couldn’t do while you were on earth. Sometimes you are doing these things on your own, and sometimes I am doing these things with you (depending on whether I like doing these things or not!). For example, 2 nights ago, we went white water rafting. Not sure where, but it was beautiful. And last night we were walking through massive fields of lavender. The imaginary picture almost always allows me to fall asleep peacefully.

So tonight my darling, we will be swimming with puffer fish. They will be in all the colours of the rainbow and in all sizes. They will look like a sea of colourful balloons. They will be swimming right next to you, and you will be able to touch them and play with them. They will blow up and shrink back. But they will all be alive to entertain you.

Love you darling,

Mum