It’s four months since we buried our son Jason. There’s sad feeling when some dates come, and I remember him even more fondly. 8th of January is when he passed on, so every eighth has me feeling nostalgic about him. 15th of January, that’s when we buried him. It’s also the same date as my birthday, 15th September. He’ll forever remain carved in my heart. Then 18th February, that’s when he was born. So every 18th will have me celebrating every month of his life that would have been. It’s also the same date as when Hetal, his elder sister was born – 18th August. I’ll never forget.
I try to encourage myself. I tell myself that he’s okay in God’s hands and arms, he’s at home. He is at the healthiest point in his life ever. He is not unwell or in pain or agony. He is breathing just fine, and all his organs are working well. He isn’t receiving any injections or shaves on his head to look for veins. He doesn’t need any medication or any earthly thing.
He is in a presence that is faultless, that does not need any correction. He is free to do, to be, to think, to travel, to excel, to exist, to breathe. He is free. He is not confined in any place by anything, time or person, and certainly not an ICU bed with all those tubes and machines.
My son is free, and he has better provision and accessories than what we could ever provide for him. He has the very best at his disposal and at his service.
He is not in a hole in the ground. That’s just what was his earthly body. His real self is in a wonderful, perfect, free floating and incorruptible body, healthy forever. I did not leave him there. He was already in heaven and in better Hands. That was just a ritual, an attempt at healing, by the sign that we lovingly put his body to rest in the best place we could.
We did our best for our son. We did everything we could, we did. To the very best of our ability, as a family. Hetal kept him good company, played with him, sang to him and prayed for him. She held him and kissed him, and admired him. She was a great big sister to him. And she loves him still.
Oh our son, our boy. He is not alone. He is alive and warmly held in our hearts, God’s heart and God’s arms. He’s hanging out with the angels now, praising Go together. He knows God more than we do, more than we ever tried to teach him. He cannot be lonely in God’s presence and loving relationship. He is safe and warm, he is securely protected by God.
So although I miss him, I know he’s in a better place and I don’t have to worry at all because he is perfectly taken care of. He won’t fall of a bike, slide on the ground or get bitten by ants. He won’t be corrupted by media or be anxious in the hands of a house-girl. Even as I go about my other duties e.g. going to work, I am at peace about him because he is well and safe.
God is helping me raise him, and my duty is to trust Him as He does everything for my son. I pray that He would help my unbelief, quiet my fears, comfort my sorrows and calm my anxieties as a mother. And for all of us as his family.
So help me God, amen.
I love you, Jason. Mummy.