I Swear You Will Be Fine

Dear Josh,

This is about last year’s Christmas Eve as well as what currently feels like our last ever Christmas Eve. I cannot imagine ever sitting around the table on Christmas Eve for dinner and then opening presents around the tree, as is our family’s tradition.

Despite you not being well the day before Christmas Eve last year, you miraculously picked up the next day. I recall you had another therapy session and you even asked me to get a gift for M. After the session, I physically met up with M and we both agreed you were a lot better.

The rest of the day was preparing for our elaborate Christmas Eve dinner. You said you would have Ammamma’s traditional roast chicken, and I also made “cheese bombs”, and shaped them into a Christmas tree. As usual, we started the meal with champagne, which you vehemently refused to even take a sip of because of the pact you made with Shalini. I was quite impressed. I was more impressed with the amount of food you ate. With your very strict diet, a lot of the last 2 years had been about meticulous calorie counting. So when you asked for multiple servings of the chicken and cheese bombs, I was ecstatic. I now wonder if all this was intentional, though I still think it wasn’t.

You were happy with the multiple LEGO sets (Harry Potter and Mario) we had gotten you, as well as the numerous clothes and many other things. After the dinner and presents opening, Ammamma and Patta went home, and Jess went down for a walk with her friends. You and I sat at the dining table and had one of the longest and nicest conversations ever. You talked about how you were feeling, and that you felt a lot better, but were occasionally self-harming, but you didn’t want me to stop you. We talked about Shalini and the rest of the family. You just didn’t want to leave the dining table. And neither did I. It was a heart-to-heart, very pleasant chat. I wish I remembered more of what we talked about.

Around that time, Anta Face-timed to wish us. You wanted to talk to her too. You were telling her about your LEGO and she walked around her house showing you all of the boys’ LEGO built up sets. I remember you were talking about the Diagon Alley set. It was unusual for you to talk to anyone outside our immediate family for so long, and I remember being worried if you were getting impatient and if it would affect your mood. But you were fine. I vaguely recall Shalini texting you to get on a call, which you would usually drop everything to get to. But you were enjoying our conversation so much, you even delayed this. It would be the last nice conversation we would have. And I am very grateful for this.

This year, we can’t bear to be home for Christmas Eve, probably the day you like most in the year, even more than your birthday. You wanted Shailini to be a part of our Christmas Eve dinner, but we never got the chance. We are running away for the few days hoping it will ease the misery of those few days.

While I was watching videos of the hotel we will be staying in on TikTok last night, I suddenly had a pang of sadness, that you were not going to be with us as we travel together as a family for the first time. I also had a stupid feeling that I was leaving you behind. Just as I felt this, the next TikTok video of the hotel very strangely had the “Succession” theme music as the background. One of your absolute favourites. I was lifted up immediately. I will take it that you will be coming along with us. I also plan to take your phone with me. So at least the “Find My Phone” will show that you are with us.

I was also very embarrassingly thinking of how little I ever thought of families struggling through the Christmas season. I had 50 years of Christmas Eves, without a thought in the world. There were perhaps a couple where you were very ill. There was one when you had chicken pox, but you still sat with us on the table in your pyjamas and sipped strawberry milk through a straw. But generally, we got to celebrate most of them. For so many families and so many people, this is such a painful and hard time. We are unfortunately part of this group now.

As you celebrate your first Christmas in heaven, I am genuinely happy for you. I just know you are at peace, and all of the struggles you went through on earth are no longer with you. We just need you to help us now, in any way you can.

Love Mum