I Swear You Will Be Fine

Dear Josh,

I’m so tired. Like physically exhausted. I’ve done absolutely nothing to justify how fatigued I am. I think it may be the grief. I couldn’t leave my bed on the 1st after lunch. You would argue I’m possibly making excuses, but I keep remembering bits of those horrible 72 hours. Mum’s been very clear she didn’t want to relive those days, even though she can’t help but remember them too. But I feel like I need to write some of it down. Because it did happen.

We woke up screaming. Mum and I. I slept in her room and we had gotten maybe two hours of sleep. We were just holding each other and screaming. We were waking up to our worst nightmare. We heard the front door open and we thought it was Ammamma. Auntie K came in to Mum’s room and held us like we were children.

My friends knew what hapened the night you died. I was meant to be going out. I ignored all their calls and thought I could hold what happened in until the next day. I messaged them by 2am. They were going to come home immediately. One of them walked with me at 7am the next morning. Because she had spent the whole night crying and couldn’t sleep either.

The flat was full by 8am. Including the funeral director. I picked your coffin with Ammamma and Mum. I was snapping at Patta a lot. I couldn’t handle his questions. I just couldn’t believe what we had to do.

Mum and I went to the morgue. We hady to get your death certificate first. My twenty-year-old brother shouldn’t have a death certificate. I remember getting your IC and seeing the cause of death. Mum and I stood there weeping. Not a single other person there was crying. They were all there for the same reason. Were they not sad? Did the expect it? It didn’t feel fair.

I nearly collapsed when I saw your body. Mama had to catch me. I couldn’t look at your body after that. When we left the room, my knees gave out again. Mum had to hold me.

I somehow fell asleep at Ammamma’s house. Clearly a nap was needed. But I woke up to people wailing. They had to bring your body home. It was horrible. But as soon as it came in, I kind of ran up to it. It felt like a bit of deja vu from when I imagine you were born. But the first thing I thought was that it didn’t look like you. I’m sure that doesn’t make much sense. But it really didn’t.

Because you would have sat up when Dad was screaming at Ammamma and Patta. You would have been the one standing in front of Mum, making sure he couldn’t get close to her. Not our family friends, who had positioned themselves so Mum couldn’t get hurt. The most I can do is yell at him. I kept looking at you. If there was something that would have woken you up, it would have been keeping Mum safe.

When everyone left, we had dinner at the dining table. Our grandparents’ neighbours from before we were born walked in quietly. I started crying again. I did however, fall asleep very quickly. When I woke up, we all needed panadol. We had such bad headaches from crying so much.

I came down crying. Dad and Ammamma had to hold me. I remember saying I just wanted you back. I sat with you at like 630 that morning, and practised your eulogy. I was hoping you would tell me if there was something you didn’t like.

The funeral people played music via an Ipad. I took over. You couldn’t tell me that you didn’t like my music for once. I played Hozier and James Blake. Brockhampton didn’t feel appropriate.

I just remember waiting for the hours to pass. I wanted the funeral over. There were so many people. You would have hated it LOL. I’m glad you didn’t have to deal with it. I had to ask my friends to stand in front of me during the eulogy so I had someone to look at. I could have spoken about you for hours.

I picked the song for the crematorium. I hope it was ok. I heard you sing it so many times. I could hear Mama singing when we did the hymns. I thought that would have made you happy.

he crematorium was beautiful. You would have approved.

We had to put flowers in your coffin. Everyone came up to us and put a flower in your coffin. Your friends came first. Dad was actually standing at the front, but your friend accidentally (and non-accidentally) overlooked him. So I bypassed him. I think you would have been proud of me for this. I thought you would want me or Mum at the front receiving all the people who loved you.

I’ve always been bossy, which you hated. But I think some part of you would have appreciated it. Because I made sure Mummy was the last person to touch you. I couldn’t. It was too hard. But Mum kissed you goodbye for the last time. She had to tiptoe.

I couldn’t look when they sent your body in. It was too hard. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t. I just sang along to the song I chose and clutched your picture.

We tried to eat when we came home. But still we had no appetite (don’t worry, that hasn’t lasted). Mum fell asleep so quickly. I think she was so worn out.

This year was much better. Your friends and girlfriend sat with us. I didn’t have to come up with a eulogy or go to a crematorium. Some part of me tries to say goodbye to you every day. But I also don’t think I ever truly will. You’re always going to be my little brother. I met someone in a support group who had lost her older brother before she was even born. She’s old enough to have her own children now, but she said that every person who knows her knows her brother. Knows his name, what he was like and how funny he was. So that’s the aim. I know you send us all these signs and loved ones so we can keep going.

I love you so much. We all do. The dogs are the main reason I sleep. I kinda think that’s you looking after me too. I have exams (yet again) soon that I’ve frankly lost motivation for, so kinda need you to help me out there too.

Love you and miss you,

Acca