Dear Josh,
Shalini wrote about the small things you’ve missed, Mum’s written about the big things. I am beginning to realise you are going to miss everything. You’re missing my graduation in 2 weeks. You’re also missing me bitch to Mum about the hot yoga I tried today. You’re missing me earning my first paycheck and introducing your girlfriend to my friends as one of my favourite people. You’re missing me going on bad dates and doing stupid things at work. You’re missing everything.
I happened to have therapy this week and asked for instructions on how to resolve the issues we discussed. Diana bluntly told me that I first had to accept that nothing I do will make up for you dying. The weeks after you passed, I tried so hard to think of a solution. I had several dreams in a parallel universe where I spoke to you, but always knew you had died. It didn’t matter if I were conscious or not, I was just looking for a way to bring you back. I know, six years of medical school and I couldn’t accept the most basic principles of life.
My conclusion was that I had to have a kid on the 31st of December. Not that particular December, obviously, but that felt like the only thing that could make that day bearable for us again. This week has made me realise that even the birth of a son who looked exactly like you wouldn’t be enough. It would never take away the pain of losing you. Even if it were one of the best days of my life, it would also always be one of the worst. I can feel you saying it’s a good thing there’s no risk of me giving birth any time soon. But then you’d feel bad and hold yourself back.
Truth be told, this was reinforced by much of what was on the blog this week. I knew when they were opening the degree certificate and congratulating me on my awards, I wasn’t holding eye contact with the phone. When I found out I had done well this year, I didn’t walk into Ammamma and Patta’s house announcing it. Not because of any newfound humility, but I think becuase I was scared no one would have the reaction I want. It was the same thing on the video call. I was scared if I looked too carefully, I would catch someone crying. I just wanted to be proud of myself for a few minutes.
I know everyone’s proud of me, but I also know nothing I do can bring you back. I think some part of me wants to give us something to be happy about, but I don’t think that can be the driver anymore. It’s not going to work, because it will never be enough.
You’ve always, always been my biggest cheerleader. You’re prouder of me than anyone. I know you told Mum/Shalini that I wasn’t always given enough credit, so you would hate that I feel that your passing makes everything a sad thing. But I think you’d want, and help us to get to a place where we can be happy and sad at the same time. I don’t know if it’s too aspirational, but maybe at some point it can just be happy. Happy that I did well in my exams, and happy that I know you’re still with me. Even as I’m writing it, it doesn’t feel real or practical. But for now, the goal is to accept that it’s ok. I could score full marks on my exams or have a dozen children, and it won’t make everything ok. It never can be.
That’s the goal for now. You would hate that we have to accept this because of how painful it is, but I think it’s what you’d want. I think. I do know that you’d be proud of me. You’ve never given me any reason to doubt that. Promise.
Love you so, so much,
Acca
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