Saturday, February 4, 2012, Nashville, Tennessee, 3:57 p.m., D.S.T.~
Aasha Vida Singh here. I am writing to tell you how we are all doing. I pray and hope everyone is doing well or that life itself is pleasant ...
Manjeet, my husband (he's a neurologist and works many hours at hospital), is hardly ever home, but he and I still have a very good relationship. I personally thinks he purposely does this to make him froget about the hardships of our youngest child, who is nearly seven years old.
Our daughter, Vida Chunarum, has grown so much: she will be in sixth grade come September and she is already several inches taller than me, her mamma! She keeps herself busy with sports (futball remains her favourite activity) and is extremely intelligent.
Meanwhile, our son, Sanjeet Raneesh, continues to survive as only he can. Every day is about the same for him: he is bathed, dressed, fed (by way of his stomach tube; he no longer can eat on his own), diapered, cuddled by the staff (as well by us when we go to visit him; we last saw him yesterday and will again see him tomorrow). Sanjeet, who will be seven in July, was left horribly brain-damaged by an accidental hanging when he was but a year old; he was left without precious oxygen for nearly 20 minutes and the results proved to be catastrophic.
Sanjeet did reward us a little with a smile and is now starting to be able to hold his head up, so we were monumentally pleased when we left to go home. Little by little our son is starting to return to us, but his future remains guarded. There are no guarantees as to whether he will ever fully recover from the trauma his brain endured, but there were small snatches to be seen of the old Sanjeet, so for the first time in as many months (years) since this suficed, we left with a sense of hope.
Maybe god isn't the cruel being he claims he is ... we may not believe in him (as we are Hindi), but somewhere, somehow, this god of Christianity is starting to make himself known and keeps reminding us that he is, indeed, good, and that all things (even severe brain damage, as suffered by Sanjeet) will end up working in our favour.
I am starting to have doubts about my Hindi faith. Maybe the gods of Hindi aren't as important whereas the Christian god IS. I have been talking with several friends of mine who ARE Christian, and suddenly I feel very confused about what I have been raised with all along ...
I have ventured to several Christian-based churches and the people act very loving and accepting of me, especially when I regale them with my tale about what has happened in our lives, no, in the life of Sanjeet, my baby boy, now a beautiful grown seven-year-old child.
They even tell me they will lift Sanjeet up in their prayers and their prayers feel like a warm, healing balm; my heart no longer hurts as much as it has ever since Sanjeet first got injured.
Well, Manjeet's car has turned into the driveway, so maybe Vida and I can spend some quality family time with him once he winds down from his shift. No doubt, he is very tired. I also have to get his dinner served; I made challa bread, chicken curried rice, and a Greek fruit and vegetable salad. I hope he enjoys it. He will also be most pleased when I tell him that little Sanjie smiled today and held up his head. It was a very good day for Sanjeet ... and for us! I will write in here again with another update; I know it has been a while ...