Not just today but everyday is a series of pretenses, not just to others but mainly to myself.
All deaths need to be registered and a Death Certificate issued. I go to the Registry Office and pay 24 pounds to collect 2 copies. While waiting, I am surrounded by young parents with their newly born children, registering their births. I pretend that it’s ok. I am ok. I should have brought someone with me but I didn’t think it would be required. After all, it’s only a piece of paper.
From there I go to his school to see how his (memorial) bench is coming along and meet up with the team creating it. I see it semi-made in the Design and Technology lab. The effort and thought being put into it is visible. It is going to look fab and funky, I think. I take Saagar’s memory book to share with the young man making the bench. He can now see how fab and funky it needs to be. He gets it I think. But at the end of the day, it’s not Saagar, it’s just a bench.
After months I am ready to give up his school blazer. I take it into the second hand shop at the school. I check the pockets to find a pink fountain pen, an ink cartridge and a sheet of typed French notes with corrections in his handwriting. I put these things in my bag and place the blazer on the counter, saying I wish to return this. The lady across smiles and asks me if I would like a refund. I smile, decline and say, ”It’s yours.” I caress it lovingly and walk away with tears in my eyes. It’s only a blazer.