I Swear You Will Be Fine

Dear Josh,

Like your mum wrote, it is your birthday week and I don’t think it will be apt to talk about anything else. For some reason, I am resisting the urge to talk about your birthday in 2024 because I know I wrote about that last year, and writing about it again will only highlight the fact that it’s been more than a year since you were on Earth. Thinking about your birthday in 2024, the Developmental Psychology class we had at 10am that day, the card I wrote and very shyly slid across the table to you, makes me so sad. It makes me feel further away from you, knowing that I thought about the same scenes last year. It also feels so wrong that we don’t have new birthday memories for me to look back on.

I should be reminiscing 2025’s birthday with you. We should be talking about the party we had where I met your friends for the first time. I should be asking you what they thought of me and telling you what I thought of them. We should be laughing over something silly that would have happened at your birthday dinner. We shouldn’t be this far apart. You shouldn’t be there and I shouldn’t be writing this. It feels like one of those time travelling movies where something went wrong in the timeline that affected everything else that happens in the present and the future. If only it was really one of those movies, then we could travel back in time and change something that would alter our fates. If only.

I’ve spent this week and a bit of the last baking with your family. Okay, let’s be real – I watched your family bake and tried to help. It was honestly so fun just being there. They worked so professionally, held such high standards in designing the cupcakes, and made sure the quality of the packed boxes were pristine. It was impressive! I’m not sure if we would all be baking together like this if you were on Earth, but I could see you standing and sitting with us, meticulously checking the boxes for stains or trying your best to ice the cakes. I bet you would have made it a competition between yourself, your sister, and I. If only you were here.

I had a dream the other day that I vaguely remember. You shone a huge and beautiful rainbow down where I sat. The day after this dream, I saw the reflection of a rainbow off a car’s windshield. I wonder if you’re trying to tell me to look out for rainbows?  

I hope you’re happy with what we’ve been doing for your foundation thus far. The cupcakes were your mum’s brilliant idea to raise funds for the foundation, and it’s going so well. I hope we get to support those in need the way others have supported us. I think you would be proud of that.

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

Love always,
Sha