It’s not so difficult when you are completely numb

Before I go on I need to introduce you to the the two new inhabitants of our room sitting on Ranjan's favourite chair! For those of you who have kids or grandchildren who are allowed TV time you would recognise the funny little cat robot Doraemon and the very poor imitation of the mighty Chota Bheem! These were the farewell gifts Agstya got from his teachers at pwhy. Of course mom was quick to decree that they were too big for the suitcase and needed to be left behind in the toy bins that get filled to the brim every time the little bloke flies back to his home. But this time was different. Agastya had other plans.  On the day he was laving he came up with these two and very seriously declared: I am leaving Doraemon and Chota Bheem for Nanou so that he gets well soon and then sat them on the chair and marched off! That night he flew away. In his little mind he had left a little of himself in the space he shared with us for so many days and nights.

Agastya is a very mature little bloke and in spite of his young age he thinks! His favourite opening line when he is about to say something serious is 'How about ...!' So this time his how about... was his way of knowing that Nanou having Zozo in his tummy needed someone to take care of him. The two soft toys were the best idea in his little mind. I cannot begin to tell you how many episodes of both these cartoons we have seen in the past two months. Sometimes, when we really miss him, Ranjan and I often say: did you watch Doraemon! Chota Bheem is the other option. I realise that God works his magic through children. Let me tell you why. When we first saw the Chotta Bheem rag doll we all commented on how ugly it was, how badly made etc. But Agastya had his plan. The rag doll is so badly made that when you see it you laugh. And that is what its role is: to make us laugh!  As for Doraemon he has a magic pocket full of gadgets that take care of all problems. So when next problem appears, we have to peep into the magic pocket and voila! Well done little bloke.

Yesterday was the first day without him in the house. I had imagined I would miss him, shed a few tears, walk around the house mournfully. But I just felt numb. I did all that I had to: took Ranjan for his injection, held his hand when he winced in pain, booked the blood test for tomorrow and smiled when needed, talked when needed, answered the phone, gave updates about Ranjan's health  but it was as if someone else was playing the script of the day, I was just numb. As Bethany Griffin wrote:  I’ve perfected the art of the fake smile. It’s not so difficult when you are completely numb. As I wrote in an earlier post, saying R has cancer is the same as saying R has the flu. To that I can add saying Agastya is gone St Louis is the same as Agastya has gone to the park! It seems like nothing can break the walls I have erected within me. I am unable to process anything that could break the barriers have built.

The fake smile, which in my case means all the correct things I need to do in the months to come, is well in place. I must admit it is a little scary. Maybe it is the coping strategy I have opted for. It takes care of terrifying things like Cancer; of heart breaking things like a grandson's departure and perhaps of all that is to come.