Little victories: a visit to his room, putting some of his clothes away, opening letters addressed to him and smelling the still lingering ‘teenage’ smell off his t-shirt. There are no words to describe how it felt. I occupy a world of grief and gratitude and have this ethereal sensation as if nothing really matters.
We spent the evening with some more of his friends and remembered him for being so funny. All his friends that are now my friends are his gift to me. I may not get to have any new memories with him but I have many of his dear friends to have memories with.
On the way back we decided to take the train home. I had to steel myself as the station approached. I used my breath to stay in the present as much as possible and managed to get down on to the platform and walk home. While walking up I realised that I need to live for the living as much as for him.
Here are a few lines written for him by his aunt:
You were more…
More than the dreams you dreamed
More than the laughs you shared
The beats you kept of the music you played
The words you learned of the tongues you spoke
The love you sought and the hearts you won
More than the questions we ask and the tears we shed
And more, much more than the demons you faced
And the battle you lost.
Hope you found your peace, and some day we find meaning…”
Rest in peace, my baby.