I Swear You Will Be Fine

The end of the month is always difficult. Your upcoming 21^st birthday is also adding to the pain. Yesterday evening, Aunty M texted me, “painfully aware tomorrow is 6 months”. That’s a nice way to think of it. We are painfully aware- that it is the end of the month, it will be your birthday soon, and today is 6 months since I heard your voice and saw your beautiful face.

Since you passed, we have adopted several new rituals. In many ways, these rituals keep us going, giving meaning and purpose to our lives. With our lives revolving around you for so many years, there is a need to still “care” for you, in one way or another.

A large framed photo of you smiling away sits in several houses- mine, Ammamma’s, Jess’s, Sha’s and Periyammamma’s. Next to the photo frame, is a candle, continuously burning, day and night. Recently, I have started swapping candles, every morning and every night. The process gives me some comfort, and I say something to you in my mind, as I light the new candle, and blow out the old one. Usually it is “Shine brightly my darling”.

Ammamma buys flowers every couple of days, for her house and mine. Every morning the flowers are removed from the vases, rinsed in water and beautifully arranged. Jess and Sha also buy flowers for you every week. It is a Sunday ritual for Jess, walking down to the station to buy the flowers of the season. H Mama always buys you flowers when he’s in Singapore. All such caring gestures for the most special boy.

Flameless candles sit in multiple areas. In your room, in my room. Every night, we leave your room light on. Not sure why. Maybe in case you “visit”, we don’t want it to be in darkness. Every morning, I first go to your room, open the door and switch off the room lights. Initially, I would make a small wish before I opened the door, hoping you would still be sitting inside. Now I don’t. I just walk in, and look around, sometimes briefly touching the chair at your desk you were so frequently sitting in. Every few days, I swap the Pokemon stuffed toys on your bed, maybe hoping that you visit every now and then to play with them. Our closest friends still buy you gifts which are lovingly displayed on your bed and table.

The last few nights have been extra heavy, perhaps knowing we are coming up to the end of the month and 6 months. But despite this, today morning when I woke up and walked into your room, what came to me was “Happy 6 months in heaven darling”. That is how I try to feel most days. You are finally happy, and we need to be happy for you.

When I wake up, I say good morning to your picture next to my bed. When I go to sleep, I say good night. Some nights when I desperately want to see you in my dreams, I keep staring at your picture until I fall asleep. Unfortunately it rarely works.

Recently I’ve started arranging pillows from top to bottom next to me. For many years, you would sleep in my bed. And even as recent as a few months before you died, you occasionally slept in my room when the dogs vomited and made a mess in your room in the middle of the night. So I imagine you are still sleeping next to me, sometimes hugging the pillows to feel like I’m hugging you.

When I’m alone in the car, I look around for signs, constantly looking for numbers, crows, cloud formations, the sun, the moon, the stars and listening to your music. Sha and I constantly share with each other when we see numbers we think are significant to you.

I still email you, but maybe not as often as I used to.

Sha and I wear a purple scrunchie on our wrists and when needed, to tie up our hair. 

Sha, Jess, S Mami and Anta all wear pendants similar to what you wore, with your name and dates. Early in the year when the sadness was too much to bear, I remember Sha telling me to just hold onto the pendant and I would feel you nearby.

This time mid-June, for so many years before, we would be planning your birthday coming up end July. Presents, cake, the various get-togethers. Now we are planning a birthday without the birthday boy. It’s all so, so sad. But it is what it is.

It will never be enough. But at least we are able to do all of this.

Happy 6 months in heaven darling.

Love Mum