I Swear You Will Be Fine

Dear Josh,

Today marks 5 months we’ve been without you. I’ve got loads to scold you about.

You missed all our birthdays. Mum’s 50th first, then my 24th, Ammamma’s 71st and then Patta’s 80th. There were no cakes that Ammamma lovingly made. Or presents that you ordered months in advance. Or facetime calls where I got to sing happy birthday while you guys cut the cake. I’ve put all the cards you were forced to write me in a file. I know I won’t get anymore so I have to keep them safely.

You’ve made me hate a lot of our favourite things. I can’t listen to my favourite song without remembering I won’t hear you sing it again. I can’t listen to your favourite song because I just remember it playing during your funeral. I can’t watch Succession, or Game of Thrones, or any show you critiqued or raved about.

You weren’t here when Shalini and I needed you during exams. You didn’t call me to calm me down when I was convinced I was going to fail. You consoled me when I did terribly on my first test in medical school. You should be telling me to study and keep calm. Shalini told me she’s working with idiots. I told her to blame you.

You missed me getting my first paper. I would have called you, and sent you the link, and you would have been so proud of me. And then you would have complained that I got published before you. And how confusing it was that we had the same initials.

You made us all hate the end of every month. I’m trying to get to a place where I think about you being around more than how you passed, but you can’t avoid the end of the month.

You’ve missed me crying every single day, bar one, for the last 5 months. Every day, several times. You should be making a joke about how I should be losing weight for how much I’m crying. You’ve missed Mummy getting close to the dogs (even picking up Caddy by herself) and Shalini. You’ve missed Ammamma and Patta getting close to her too. I know how much that meant to you.

The worst part is knowing that you’re going to keep missing things. You were the one to tell me I got into university, but you’re not going to be here when I finish. You won’t be here for any of our birthdays. Or big events. But almost more importantly – you’re not here for the small ones. The three of us going for a movie together. Or walking the dogs. Or Sunday lunch with Ammamma and Patta. I thought the hardest part would be getting used to you not being here, but I think it’s trying to think about a future where you’re not here. I used to look forward to coming home so much, but how can it be be home if you’re not there?

I know exactly what you would say to this. ‘Jeez, thanks Jess. It’s not like I was trying to piss you off’. I know Josh. I know. But it’s easier to pretend that you had some control over this sometimes. I spent most of our lives in a state of mild irritation with you. So surely that should just continue. I hope you’re proud we’ve made it to five months. No one’s stopped work or university. We’re all getting up in the mornings and showering and eating. I didn’t think we would make it 24 hours without you. Miss you and love you every day.

Love, Acca