My son is gone. I am the unfortunate mother who saw her son shout out "Mamma, I can't breathe", take a gasp and then just go. Things were done to him to get him back to us, but I knew he was gone, and was not coming back.
Over the past few days, we have been showered with love by friends and family, and I wish that was enough. At least that has proved to be enough for me to take the next step, the next breath.
I've been told that he was so special that God wanted him back soon. I don't believe in God, but even I can't believe that God could be so selfish.
A friend once told me Shashank was born with a piece of sunshine inside him. That is what shone through in his brilliant smile. Did he spread too much sunshine too quickly? Did he smile too much? Is that why he only had 37 years on Earth?
If this death was to teach me to appreciate my son more, I didn't need it... I didn't need it. I already thought he was one of the best human beings who walked this earth - brilliant, loving, spreading joy every time he smiled. And it's not just me saying this. I'm being told the same things by everyone who meets me.
So then, why did he have to go? Does this Earth, which has so much going wrong with it, not need more people like him to heal it?
Was I too proud of him? Did I take too much credit for the way he turned out? Does that warrant this kind of a loss in my life?
And does this mean I should be careful about how much I worship my wonderful younger son
