I Swear You Will Be Fine

The three of us would usually mean you, Jess and me. But today, I am thinking of the three of us as Shalini, Jess and me, the three who started this blog and keep it going, the three who now have our own chat group (with you), and the three who are blessed to have become as close as possible. Other than Ammamma, Patta and Tun, no one else misses you as much as we do, no one loves you as much as we do and no one has regrets as much as we do.

Coincidentally, the three of us are also linked to your final hours. Jess was the last one to physically see you, I was the last one to hear your voice on the phone, and Sha was the last one to text you and receive your last text, just minutes before you passed. Memories of that day still haunt us and often feel as painful as on the day itself.

We are strangely somehow “aligned” in our grief. We have grown together in this, looking for the signs you send us. The days that are extra painful somehow affect us all at the same time, though we are not physically together. Checking with each other the following day, we will generally have the same words “last night was so bad” etc. Our beliefs are also aligned. At this stage, we believe you are around us, you miss us (but not in a bad way), and you are constantly watching over us. We are also frequently aligned in the next steps- how we don’t want to change anything about the memories you’ve left behind, including your room, how we don’t want to change your bed linen, how we don’t want to touch your Harry Potter Lego still sitting half done. We also have the same thoughts on how we want to celebrate your life on your birthday coming up, each of us mindful enough of each other’s feelings, but also comfortable enough now to be able to say what we really want. 

And perhaps the most beautiful thing about us, is that each feels the other one’s pain more than their own. I think of Shalini waiting for our call back that fateful day. I think of her having the most playful conversation one minute with the love of her life, and hours later seeing his lifeless body on FaceTime, and with that a future completely robbed. I think of Jess getting the call from me, all alone in the train, with no one to support her. And somehow managing to get home and then walking into our home to the chaos and all the intense pain that came thereafter. And having to be strong for us all, especially me. And I think of her future too, that will never be the same. And I know they both think more of my pain. For that millisecond moment when I realised you were gone and being alone. And for the many days and nights that would follow knowing you will not be around.

Such is the beautiful bond you have created for us Josh, albeit in the worst possible tragedy. I feel for Shalini that she should have never had to experience such grief and sadness. But it has helped our family so much. I don’t think you thought about all of this. I don’t think you knew we would grieve so intensely together. I don’t think you realised how much we would lean, and would have to lean on each other. Was it you or the universe that somehow brought this all together in this time of extreme vulnerability and despondency? However it happened, it is amazing. And I am beyond grateful. As the world moves ahead as it always does, I presume this will change as well. But for now, it is something I cherish with all my heart.

Thank you Bubba for keeping us together.

Love you darling,

Mum