Aasha Singh here. Thought I would update you as to what is going on in our lives.
Manjeet is still busy working; he works as many as six days a week, sometimes seven, given on how many patients he has. (He is a practicing neurologist.) I hardly see him excepting maybe one day a week, and even then, we hardly ever talk. I am usually at home raising our ten-year-old daughter, Vida Chunarum, who is busy with school and extracurricular activities after school is completed for the day.
When my husband is off from his doctorly duties, we spend it going to Vida's games or visiting our other child, five-and-a-half year-old Sanjeet Raneesh, who currently resides in a facility for severely handicapped children.
Sanjeet was left brain damaged and severely physically handicapped after an accidental hanging nearly four years ago; even after all this time, I still blame myself for the accident because I wasn't there when the accident happened (I was grocery shopping); if I had been there, maybe I could have protected him, and this wouldn't have happened to him.
At the age of five, Sanjeet can no longer care for himself. He is totally helpless: unable to see, unable to speak, unable to walk, even unable to eat or go to the restroom by himself; he is like a newborn baby with the mindset of a two-to-three month-old. When he once could walk, talk, run, and recite his ABC's and numbers, he can no longer do this. All he does is lie there while others care for his every need.
When he hears our voices, he smiles and turns his head towards us; we then pick him up and cuddle with him; when we have to leave the facility, it is always the worst because we can go back to our normal way of life while he can no longer do so. He has to depend on others, twenty four hours a day, 12 months, or 365 days a year.
All of our dreams that we had for Sanjeet are now gone.
He is no longer himself: he is just a shell of the beautiful, bright little boy we once knew and loved. We still do love Sanjeet, but it is no longer the same for any of us; it's as though a part of him died, and we are still grieving that loss.
It's a grief that never seems to go away. We think of what we had, as opposed to what we lost, and all we can do is cry and remember.
Manjeet and I have been seeking help with a therapist, but it doesn't really seem to be doing any good because we think of our son, and the tears start anew, as we grapple with yet another memory of Sanjie and how he was.
Well, we are getting ready to go see Sanjeet, so I will go now. I will write in here again soon; until later, this is Aasha Singh saying so long; talk to you another day!
~Love, your friend in Tennessee, Aasha. :(
*to be continued.*
