I Swear You Will Be Fine

I had this thought a short while ago. I was looking through your baby pictures and this thought just came to mind. It was one specific photo – the one where your mum is hugging you tightly and you’re a little toddler. And I thought, “What a privilege it is to love someone’s baby”. This sounds silly and possibly weird, but I am quite proud of loving someone who is so loved. Looking at all your childhood pictures, I truly felt how loved you are. You’re so widely and deeply loved. I thought about your mum, changing your diapers when you were a little baby, running after you when you were a toddler with a smile on her face (I hear you were quite the mischievous child!). I can imagine you and your mum sitting at the dining table, doing your primary school homework. I can imagine you and your mum again years later, sitting at that same dining table taking turns to talk about how your days went. You are and always will be her baby, no matter how old you grow and how far you are. And what a privilege it is to love someone’s baby.

Then I look at pictures of you and your sister. And I think, “What a privilege it is to love someone’s little brother”. She probably doesn’t see you as her “little” brother anymore, considering how you’re tall enough to tower over her, but she probably still kind of sees you that way – I think no matter how big you grow, some things don’t really change. I watch videos of you two singing together, running after each other on Easter egg hunts, feeding each other cake… It’s like you’ll always be her partner-in-crime (I’m quite sure you both have gotten into some trouble together; siblings usually do). You grew up with her, and as much as your mum raised you, she probably played a huge part in raising you too. Technically, I’d say you grew up with her and because of her. And what a privilege it is to love someone’s little brother.

Every time I look at your grandparents, I think of you too. I think of your grandmother happily playing with you as a baby, “forced” to nap with you as a child because you refused to nap unless she was in the room. I see you and your grandfather playing chess, you celebrating after finally winning a game against him, and him smiling as he looks at you because he let you win. I see your grandmother cooking food for you, curating special recipes because you were an insanely picky eater (you still are). I see your grandfather teaching you math, happy and proud that you’re so easy to teach. Your grandparents love you more than regular grandparents love their grandchildren. They did more for you than regular grandparents would ever do. In a way, you are also their baby, their only and favorite grandson. And what a privilege it is to love someone’s favorite grandson.

I see your dearest helper, T. Who has taken care of you for more than a decade. I now walk the dogs with her occasionally, and she speaks so fondly and so highly of you. I see you and her walking together after school, you telling her about your friends and making up silly stories. I see her holding your little hand as you both walk your sister to piano class. I see you telling her how to look after your doggies, how to cook your healthy meals, things to buy, things to sort out in the house… She too loves you and your family more than regular helpers do. She has probably done more for you and your family than regular helpers would. You belong to your mum, your sister, and your grandparents, but you are also T’s little boy. And what a privilege it is to love someone who is so gently cared for by non-blood relative.

The past week, your birthday week, I watched as your Aunts and Uncle flew in from all over the world just to spend your birthday with your family. I received texts from another Uncle of yours, from halfway across the world, sending love on the day we celebrated you. I’ve listened to stories of you from when you were a toddler. I’ve seen the look of love on their faces when they fondly recall how cute and playful you were as a child. I imagined you last year, playing magnets by the beach with your little cousins – who I had the pleasure of meeting this year and playing magnets with them too. I imagined you bonding with your 7-year-old cousin over Lego – something I also did this year. I imagined everything you did with your beloved Aunts and Uncle and cousins, and now I’m doing it all. You are so loved by people near and far, young and old (they are not really old, though). And what a privilege it is to love someone’s favorite nephew and older cousin.

I finally met your group of friends this year. You talked so much about them I felt like I knew them even before I met them. They are the kindest, sweetest, group of people – almost instantly I could tell why you were friends with them. They speak like you, talk about the same things you’d talk about, make the same jokes you’d make. Your friends share sweet stories of you, hilarious videos and photos you’ve taken over the years (some you’d hate for us to watch because they are quite embarrassing, but we lovingly watch and laugh anyway). I see your friends and how much love they have for you. These are people who you’ve grown up with, people you’ve known for decades, people who have saved your life numerous times. I look at them and I think, “What a privilege it is to love someone’s cherished friend”.

Last year, you introduced me to who I consider one of the most lovable beings on Earth (aside from you, of course). She has supported your family and I and stepped up in ways I never expected anyone to. She texts me every day, we talk about you constantly as if you are here, and she is the person I can tell most of my thoughts to, the person I don’t have to be afraid of being nerdy with. Our dearest Lynnda, as you nicknamed her (I’m not sure she loved the nickname though), cracked so many jokes with you. Most of the jokes I can’t remember, but I remember laughing so much with the both of you that I started looking forward to going to school. We were known as “the trio” by quite a few lecturers, and I will always be grateful that I was allowed to sit beside you both in class and be the audience for your jokes. We used to joke that the both of you could do stand-up comedy together and I’d always be laughing in the front row. We get along so well, I’m surprised we have only been friends for slightly over a year. We used to send her nonsensical, hilarious voicenotes of us too. Now, we will always be half as funny, but I shall await our little reunion – I can already hear the jokes you’ve been waiting to crack. She’s one of our favorite people in the world, and I have a feeling we might be her favorite couple (fingers crossed). What a privilege it is to love someone’s comedic partner.

This year, I also got to meet your closest family friends – Auntie K, Uncle P, and their three girls. They are also the sweetest people (you’re so lucky that everyone around you is the absolute sweetest). They check in on me every now and then, especially on tougher days like your birthday and at the end of the month. From the first time I met them, they’ve been actively telling me about you. They still talk about you all the time – imagining things you’d say, sharing with us how much you used to tease them… They looked up to you as a role model, as an older brother, and I am sure they still do. What a privilege it is to love someone’s role model.

A day after you passed, a classmate of ours reached out. He told me how sorry he was for my loss, and how wonderful of a person you are. But he was not the only one. Many of our classmates we’ve had over the last few semesters shared stories about how amazing and kind you are even though they hadn’t known you long. See! People are able to ascertain how great you are despite only briefly knowing you! This particular classmate shared that he considered you an inspiration because of how outstanding you are academically, and how humble you are about it. He said few people are like you, and I strongly agreed. It was a nice message to read, and I thought, “What a privilege it is to love someone who is an inspiration to others”.

Whenever we go out in public together, I’ve noticed people (mostly girls, sometimes boys) looking at you. This should irritate me more than it does, my boyfriend getting checked out everywhere we go, but I’m mostly proud of that (keyword is “mostly” because sometimes I can’t decide between wanting to poke their eyes in or protectively cover you up). You have told me stories of how popular you are at school (humble?) and I do not doubt it one bit – I see it all the time and we were caught in rumors even before we started dating because people were upset with me for walking with you out of school (I was a friend); they were devastated that Joshua appeared to have a girlfriend. It was a funny time when rumors were circulating even before we started dating, and now it’s just me flaunting how handsome my boyfriend is whenever I can. What a privilege it is to love someone who is so attractive (I say this as cockily as I can).

Again, you are so widely and deeply loved that this post doesn’t even encapsulate it. What a privilege it is to love someone who is so widely and deeply loved.

I can’t wait to see you again. I love you more, always, and forever.

Love always,
Sha