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.
“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.”
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.
Alone in a new city. Two kids. A world locked down. And yet, somewhere between the chaos and the quiet, I found strength I didn’t know I had. This is a story of surviving — and learning to live fully, even when the world outside felt like it was falling apart.
The last time we flew, you were running around the airport with endless curiosity, headphones on, lost in your music — calm and content, unlike any other child. Little did I know that would be our final journey together. Every mile since has carried the quiet ache of your absence.
It rained yesterday, and I missed him all over again. A stranger’s question reopened the night I’ve never truly left—the night my son’s heart stopped. In moments like these, I realise: grief doesn’t end. It returns, quietly, suddenly, again and again.
From Singapore, travelling to Indonesia was so easy. A short ferry ride of about 45–60 minutes, and we’d be in another country. In the first weekend of May 2019, we decided to go to Bintan, Indonesia. We had booked our stay at the beautiful Angsana Resort. The ferry ride was smooth, and both my kids …
Adi was doing fairly well with regular medications, therapy, and check-ups. There were good days when he didn’t have any seizures, and then there were those other days — the ones with the absence seizures. During those moments, we felt so helpless. There was nothing we could do except wait for it to pass. The …
Adi was now a very active toddler. My days were spent taking care of him and managing the home. On the surface, everything seemed okay. But in my mind, thoughts about his health and future never stopped. They kept me awake most nights. There were times I’d lie frozen in fear, overwhelmed by the unknown. …
The tears didn’t stop. Why me? Why me? Why me? What wrong had I done to deserve this?Why did you give me a baby after so many years, only to place so many conditions on him?I didn’t want to do this anymore… These thoughts kept running through my head for days. They say the grief …