I Swear You Will Be Fine

When I started reading books on grief early this year, a question that many people would likely ask me constantly worried me.

“How many children do you have?”

From what I read in various books, the answers would vary. At the time, I thought it was such waffly advice. Like just tell me already, how am I supposed to answer this. The book said it would depend on who you are speaking to. That was not enough for me. I also thought there was no way I would say I only have one child. It would be a dishonour to you. And no matter how painful it was, I would ALWAYS acknowledge your existence, even if it would be followed by a painful conversation.

But I was wrong. The book was right. It not only depends on who you are talking to, but also how you are feeling on the day.

I have a picture of you on my desk at work. It came days after you died. I thought I had angled it so perfectly that only I could see it. You are dashing in the picture, if I may say so. Despite my positioning, there are a multitude of patients (and colleagues) who see it. Colleagues are ok, they know what happened. But patients are different. So many comment on how handsome you are. “Looks like a film star” is something so many have said. “Is that your son?”. Yes. “How old is he?” 20. “What’s he doing? NS?”. No…Uni. I do hesitate a little, but now I’ve perfected it….most of the time. It would be too much to tell a brief patient the tragedy that happened months ago. So I continue the “lie” with people I see briefly, and am likely never to see again. It’s just easier.

A few weeks ago, Patta’s new Doctor asked about our family. I could see it coming. She started with me and Mama. Asking what we do etc. In my mind, I thought, stop, stop with that. But it kept coming. “How many grandchildren do you have?” Patta and Ammamma looked up blankly at me. I composed myself, and said as calmly as I could. “I have 2 children, my brother has 2 as well. But my son passed away”. Of course it didn’t stop there. “Oh what happened?”. “Mmm, he had mental health issues”. “I’m so sorry”, and she continued with other lines of questioning focusing on Patta. I was relatively proud of myself. I think you were proud of me too.

But then last week, I met an old lady. So far, she’s been fairly inquisitive. And like Sha says, she kind of just asks questions for the sake of asking. I try to avoid her, but it’s not always possible. She asked me, “so you have only one?”. After a bit of a pause, I said “Yes”. In my mind, I quickly apologised to you. I couldn’t believe that I was doing this less than 6 months after you passed. There was guilt and sadness. But I just couldn’t rationalise confidently going into your story for this lady. Sorry Josh. I hope you understand.

And so, I guess this is how it will be. I can’t stop the questions. They will keep coming. The answers though, will vary. They will vary depending on how sad I am at that moment. They will vary depending on where I am. They will vary depending on who else is present and if they know what happened. And they will vary on who is asking the question- if I will ever see them again, or if they are worthy of the honest answer. The waffly book advice became wafflier.

I hope this strategy is acceptable to you Josh. It is like a delicate dance, like ballet….this grief thing….and we are adjusting and learning the steps everyday, sometimes tiptoeing and sometimes having to land just a bit harder.

Love you darling.

Mum