[Written Date & Time: 8 April 2019, 01:40am]
I am just done editing the photo... The photo of the post that would announce Nathan’s demise. It was something that I had been avoiding for the past two weeks. It was so hard editing the photo. The difficulties faced weren’t technical – I couldn’t keep the tears from falling, my vision kept blurring up.
The post is scheduled to be released later on this week. I prepared the caption a long time ago, well not that long. I wrote it on the night that I found out about Nathan’s heart condition. I wrote and saved it in advance because I knew that I would have a terribly tough time thinking of a caption now, having to recount the various emotionally-wrecking instances of the past two weeks, squeeze my messed up emotions into sensible words and tapping the “post” button. I was also trying to save myself from a teensy bit of heartache — the bit that would set me off the edge again, crying to sleep.
I don’t think I have ever cried this much or continuously for these many days in a row (14 days now and counting). On day 11, my eyes were so swollen from all the crying, I looked like I was suffering from a severe case of conjunctivitis. It was also then when I realised, I have to do my best and restrain my tears... all the crying was starting to affect my vision... I've been stressing my eyes out way too much. As you can tell from the day count, I am trying – and failing.
That bear. There is a story behind it. The whole family was at Ikea, shopping for furnitures for the new house. We bought a new place because of Nathan, for Nathan. There isn’t space in our current home to accommodate his arrival so my in-law’s decided to sell away this home of 25 years, to get more space for their second grandson. Oh, the irony of it, because now we will be moving in without him. It hurts so much to say this line.
We were at Ikea, shopping for furnitures. I walked by a mountain pile of this $1.90 bear and thought to myself, “This would be a nice first toy for Nathan.” I walked towards the husband. He saw the bear and raised an eyebrow at me. I defended, “It’s for Nathan.” We bought and brought the bear home. I’m glad I bought the bear. It is something to remember Nathan by. But damn, the bear... a second irony in this mess. That embossed heart on its chest. A stone cold joke.
Two days before the procedure, the husband held the bear in his hands, and he made a request. “Can we never buy this bear again?” I understood why. This bear is Nathan’s, it belongs to Nathan, it symbolises Nathan to us and thus it would unfitting for any of our other children to play with it like its their toy.
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