That’s how long it’s been since our son Saagar left us. Apparently he left by choice. What sort of choice? I don’t know. I never will.
How did he get to that point?
How did we get through all these days and months without him?
I have no clue.
Life has been cleaved mercilessly into – ‘before’ and ‘after’. How can this unthinkable, unimaginable happening be for real?
That gorgeous naughty smile, that kind and generous heart – how can it just disappear?
The mind constantly goes back to ‘before’ and re-arranges events in order to eliminate the ‘after’. But we are here – in the ‘after’ which feels like a tiny cage of barbed wire. Sitting here rudderless and alone, I am lost. I am not alone in the sense of being without people who love me but I am the only person who is his mother. I am lost without him. None of this makes any sense. This is not how it is supposed to be. It is not in the script.
His drum kit, cricket bat, books, t-shirts, shorts and trainers are still here. I am still here.
In a way, he is here.
In our smiles and tears.
In the hearts of all those who love him.
Although my mind has doubted it, my heart knows it to be eternal and pure.
Like a river that starts as a glacier and ends as the ocean, love changes and flows.
When I want to see Saagar, I close my eyes and be with our love. The light of love comes through the barbed wire cage. In this light I can see the grief, guilt and anger as nothing but distortions of love. Just like white light is not a colour but the sum of all possible colours, love encompasses everything. If there were no love, there would be no sorrow. They are reflections of each other.
While engulfed in darkness, I see the light of love and hang on to it. It is my anchor in this choppy sea. I can depend on it. Like a night traveller navigating her way through the dark, love is my north star. I can trust it to always find me.
It is the light of love that has got us through the past 499 days.
As Rumi says – The wound is the place where the light enters you.