Craters on the surface of the earth indicate something magnificently terrible happened here.

A hundred days have gone by six time over since the crater in my chest was created. I have surrounded myself with the ruins and cherished them ever since. I have held on to every scrap as tightly as I could, painfully parting with a few as if I was giving away fragments of myself.

Today I felt ready. It was a day of going through Saagar’s jumpers, t-shirts, shorts, scarves, ties, belts and shoes, looking at them and remembering how he looked in them, putting them down on a white sheet and taking pictures of them and then putting everything lovingly and neatly into cardboard cartons, loading up the car with 4 such boxes and driving to the Mind charity shop nearby, telling the story to the lady at the counter in about 6 words: My son had Bipolar. His things…

Although I thought I was ready, it was still like giving away a big chunk of myself. Another crater. I still hold on to a few scraps – a school tie and a university tie. I think he would appreciate that. May be not. No idea.

Well, these are only his things that I give away.
He is right here. In my heart.