On a very turbulent flight to India a few years ago, I sat next to him absolutely petrified, tightly clutching on to his hands for dear life. He just sat there fully present to my fear and me, telling me it will pass. I recall that particular air journey to be the worst one ever. I must have held on to his hands for at least a couple of hours. He stayed calm. He knew that was just me. He often made jokes about it.
The ‘seat-belt on’ sign was switched on again on the flight this morning as we hit bad weather. My first instinct was to look for his hands but then I decided to sit with my eyes closed and take long deep breaths. I could almost hear him say, “Don’t worry Mamma. It will soon be ok.”
Will it really? Today is exactly 3 months since he passed away. It is still so fresh in my memory, so painful and traumatic, so full of questions and regrets, his suffering and mine, the shock, panic, horror of it. The suddenness of it! How utterly devastated and helpless I felt then and how it is not much different now.
God, please give me the strength to do everything I can to prevent similar pain befalling anyone else. There is a tiny part of me that just wants to give up but please don’t let it win.