From cake cutting at midnight to noodles at dinner, every moment brought back memories of you. Even a child peering through a glass window was enough to remind me of you.
Once Covid was over, restrictions eased and schools started, I was faced with a new situation. Adi had to start schooling and I didn’t know where to send him. I wanted him to have a social atmosphere, but at the same time I didn’t want to overwhelm him. Yet again, I was clueless about the …
11 months without Adi… and the quiet in our home feels louder than ever.
It’s 2:30 a.m., and the silence feels heavier than ever. I keep asking why you had to leave so soon, Adi. Every night, I ache for one more hug, one more “nice,” one more moment that will never return. Some nights, the grief feels endless — like tonight. The world keeps moving, but my heart still waits for you.
Parenting is never easy, but with a special child, it becomes a journey unlike any other. I’ve learned that acceptance, patience, consistency, and unconditional love are what truly create wonders. With Adi, progress wasn’t about milestones or charts — it was about celebrating the little steps, embracing the way he did things, and finding joy in every blessing, big or small.
“Mamba turned 18 last week—a milestone she once dreamed of celebrating in a big way. But this year was different. With your absence, her priorities changed, and all she wanted was a quiet day. I tried to make it special for her, knowing that’s what you’d have wanted too. Through the cakes, the laughter, the shopping, we kept talking about you. You were there in every moment, just not in the way we wished.”
“Leaving our old home felt like losing Adi all over again. Every corner held his laughter, his footsteps, his presence. In this new home, I place his red chair on the balcony and imagine him there—watching, smiling, still with us.”
“This year, all we had were the memories—of every birthday we celebrated with you, every little joy you brought into our lives. Still, I baked a cake for you, because your birthday will always be a blessing we cherish, no matter what.”
It’s been six months since Adi left us. Six months of silence where his laughter once filled our home. Some days I find myself lost in the memories of my pregnancy with him—the joy, the music, the little moments that belonged only to us. And then reality hits, leaving behind a void words can’t fill. Yet, in every prayer and every song, I still feel his presence, reminding me that our bond will always remain.
Just four songs — that’s all Adi wanted, day after day. They played on loop, filling our little apartment with his laughter and happy little dances. Even now, when I hear them, I’m right back there… in those strange, uncertain days, holding on to the love and small joys that kept us going.