I Swear You Will Be Fine

Days after you died, I started reading about grief. In some ways, I am blessed that it took nearly 50 years to truly understand what grief is about. I was devastated when I lost my little brown Pomeranian when he was just 3 years, and I was 9. I lost some grandparents and Uncles and Aunts over the years. And a friend/ ex-colleague. But none of them were exceptionally close. I guess God thought, “I’ll spare you for a decent amount of time before giving it all to you in the most severe blow”. 

Like Jess, I was also trying to understand the process of grief. Jess and Sha unfortunately had to deal with this at a much younger age. When I started reading about grief, “triggers” was a word that constantly came up. And in my naïve mind, I assumed I would see all the triggers within the first few weeks, and that would be it.

I learnt very quickly that the triggers would keep coming, and probably till the end of our own lives.

As I return to our home, the place that was your earthly heaven for so long, the triggers are everywhere. I miss you more, but that is what I want too.

The little girls in our condo who walked passed us the other night when we were going for dinner. They would usually stop you and Sha when you were walking the dogs to cuddle them. I worry if and when they will ask about you.

The clubhouse security officer where we need to exchange passes for the gym. The place you would go to everyday for the last 2 years, sometimes twice a day. Everytime I go there to get a gym pass, I pretend to be busy on my phone and not make eye contact. I’m worried he will one day ask me why he hasn’t seen you in awhile.

The lady security officer who I quarrelled with a few years ago, when I tried to bring you into the gym “under-aged”. I thought it would help you with your emotional well-being.

The playground right outside our apartment, where you would spend hours every evening when you were little, and I would join you as soon as I came home from work, the only silly Mum running around in high heels.

The most stressful thing about walking around right now, is strangely, being worried about bumping into Mr S, your tennis coach. He was so fond of you, and was amazed with your physical transformation these last 2 years. Remember how he one day randomly gave you a brand new tennis racket? Well, I don’t know if he knows you’ve passed or not. But everytime I go to the gym, I plan and time it between his tennis lessons, so I hopefully don’t bump into him. 

And when I’m at the gym, I’m always looking out through the full-length glass windows. I remember several years ago, when you were probably around 6 or 7 years. While I was on the treadmill, you were metres away playing ball with some other little boys and I was watching through the glass windows. The security guard came and scolded you and took the ball away. I watched from my treadmill and was livid. I left everything at the treadmill and ran out of the gym, ready to have a fight with the security guard because you were standing there crying. After a highly heated exchange with me, he gave you back the ball.

Several years later, the usual routine when I was at the gym was to still look for you through the glass windows, but now, while you were on your walks with the dogs. You would just briefly slow down and flick your head to acknowledge me. Hardly a wave (I guess it would be too embarrassing for you?). I would wave madly to you though. Later the walks were with Sha. She paused a lot longer to say hi! Those few, brief seconds always made me so proud and gave me so much joy. This is something I miss so very much and think about every time I’m at the gym.

But the other day, while I was looking out the glass windows, and wishing I could see you walking, I saw a young girl doing her walk around the condo. She was on crutches and missing a limb. It was a gentle reminder to me that this is what life is. Full of tragedies. So unfair and so cruel. We just need to keep living.

Missing you a lot more today my darling.

Love Mum