Day 683

Posted by kidsaregifts20

A few weeks ago we planned my birthday get-together for today as it was most convenient. The last day of a long weekend. My parents timed their visit to London from India so that they could be here on this occasion. Everything was organised even though I didn’t want to think about it. The guest list was final, I almost didn’t want this day to arrive. It is one thing keeping things ticking along, looking ‘normal’, it is quite another celebrating. It is hard to feign happiness. The contrast between the inner and the outer landscape is too stark. Tears came flooding in at the thought of getting ready for the ‘party’.

I remember 2 years ago Saagar wished me a Happy Birthday today, one day before my birthday believing it to be the day. His illness was just turning from hypomania into depression. His cognition was majorly affected. He was known not to be very good at remembering birthdays etc so I didn’t worry too much.

‘Brain fog’ is a common description of this aspect of depression – diminished ability to think or concentrate and indecisiveness.
“It’s brilliant. You get to take these tablets that keep you half asleep till lunchtime and make you fat. You can’t concentrate on anything and you don’t want to talk to anyone unless you get so angry you want to shout at them. I hide in my room so I don’t end up shouting at my mum. I don’t want to be with anyone but I hate being by myself. I hate staying at home but I can’t go outside. Seriously, it’s brilliant.” – Beth.

“What would you like for your birthday?” I got asked.
‘No one can get me what I would like for my birthday.’

Despite that, it was a good day. The house felt like a happy place with all these loving and caring people in it – my parents, some of Saagar’s friends and some of ours and some both.

It feels unnatural to be celebrating but…

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Day 682

Posted by kidsaregifts20

100 kms, 2000 meters of ascent (and descent), 25 hours, much pain, a few blisters, no sleep and very little rest later, it was done. The South Coast Challenge. Inspired by our 25 K flat, riverside walk last year that he found terribly easy, with great enthusiasm Si signed up for this long arduous walk about 10 months ago. I promised to support him and do a couple of practise walks with him. Despite having had many odds against him, Si completed it with a smile.

South Coast Challenge

More than 2000 participants got together to support various charities. All around us there were pictures, memories, a few tears and the will to make a difference. I wish I had the time to get each person’s story. Si walked in support of PAPYRUS (https://www.papyrus-uk.org/), a charity dedicated to prevention of young suicide. At the last stop he said that if Saagar would see him in his present state, he would have a good laugh. He would laugh so much that he would cry. It was in fact raining lightly. May be that’s what it was.

It was interesting for me to be in the supporting role for a while. The waiting, hanging around, remembering the details of what would be needed when and being there just to provide moral support – small things but they meant a lot to both of us. That he is here with me and we share our lives and values so deeply – I didn’t know this was possible. It is and I feel so lucky! So proud!

Day 674

Posted by kidsaregifts20

Coming up to Saagar’s second anniversary in a couple of months, this piece of writing by another mother really touched my heart…

The Forest

When I first embarked on my grief path after my child took her life, I thought that it would be linear and each step would become easier until maybe one day I would walk out into the sunshine again. And in the first few months, I looked at others I met who were two or three years down the line and wondered why some of them seemed to be still stuck in what I thought were the early stages of their grief. How naïve of me!

I have come to realise that this grief journey is incredibly complicated and is more like being lost and stranded in a forest. To begin with everything was dark and foreboding; it felt like the forest would completely engulf me and at every twist and turn there would be branches catching at me and roots making me stumble and fall, and muddy, murky swamps wanting to drown me. I felt I was living in a horror movie at worst or a frightening children’s story book at best. After a while I was so determined not to let the forest take me over that I created a glade where I thought I would be safe from the shadows. I tried really hard to be positive and see some sense in my loss.

Now, coming up to three years on, at times the path can be straight and I think I know where it is going and there are more and more times when it passes through one of those sunlit glades and I can bask in the warmth and feel nothing can touch me. But I never know when the trees will close in and what monsters might be hiding behind them; and sometimes the path feels like it’s doubling back on itself and I have no idea where I’m going. But I have come to trust that I will always find a way through the tangled undergrowth eventually and walk with my eyes looking forward and upwards towards the light rather than into the darkness and despondency.

Along this path I have been so privileged to have met others who are walking the walk in their own way. Some sadly are completely engulfed by and lost in their forest and can barely put one foot in front of the other; and others seem like they know where they are going and walk strongly and steadfastly, sometimes wearing the cloak of invincibility to the outside world as a means of protection, but they too can stumble and fall and need a helping hand or a kind word.

But it is a difficult, painful and exhausting path however we travel it. And there is no right or wrong way to walk it and each person must find their own way through their forest. If you are one of the people I have met on this trail, I want you to know how much I respect your fortitude, courage and strength.

If you were there before I entered the forest and are still walking alongside me through the darkness and the light, I give you my love, my thanks and my heartfelt gratitude, particularly as I know many of you are finding your own way through your own heartache and grief.

And if you are reading this and know anyone who is stumbling through their own dark, tangled place then please reach out a hand to them and maybe catch them before they fall.

And to my beautiful child I want to say thank you for often showing me the way.

Love and light

Day 672

Posted by kidsaregifts20

Scarlett Lewis is Jesse’s mother. Jesse, her youngest son, six years of age was one of the twenty children murdered in the 2012 Sandy Hook Elementary School massacre in Newtown, Connecticut. Brave Jesse helped save the lives of many of his classmates by encouraging them to run while he stayed behind to protect his teacher—both he and his beloved teacher were killed.

Before going to school, in what may have been a premonition of the day’s tragedy, six-year-old Jesse wrote on his home chalkboard, “Nurturing Healing Love.” Working through her grief in the midst of the emotional devastation felt by all of the parents who lost children, Scarlett embraced Jesse’s words and consciously chose a different way to manage her distress. While many parents vented their pain through anger, blame, and overwhelming grief, Scarlett went on an alternate path by deciding to consciously choose Love to come to terms with this heinous crime.

To send her message into the world, Scarlett founded the Jesse Lewis Choose Love Foundation (http://www.jesselewischooselove.org) whose stated mission is, “To create awareness in our children and our communities that we can choose love over anger, gratitude over entitlement, and forgiveness and compassion over bitterness.” The foundation’s goal is to help manifest a more peaceful and loving world. Scarlett’s efforts in advancing Love to resolve the world’s problems has become her path to healing.

Day 669

Posted by kidsaregifts20

“It’s the small steps that walk us through this.

It’s the knockdown with the ability to stand.

We may be very shaken after our fall, but we stand in pride for those we loved, that ended it all.

It’s the counting of days, weeks and years we focus on; but we must count the days, weeks and years that they lived.

We can’t forget the time they did live, for that is why we loved them enough to have this pain of ours.

Their leaving moment does not outweigh their living moments. We grieve for many reasons: we grieve for their pain and our loss. Celebrating their life was longer than that moment of passing. Which shall I dwell upon? Their life, their living, their happiness, their achievements… that is where I should dwell. Imagine all the time they carried their pain and their force to live through it. That will never be trumped by their moment of death, for we are still here to stand for their namesake. Their name was never suicide and it should never be that way. Carry them with you no matter how heavily it weighs you down. You are their storyteller now.”

– SNY