“OPEN WOUND”
After the attack, financial aid flooded into the district, much of it directed to bereaved families, and psychological help was offered as people tried to rebuild their lives.
Banyen Scrichanil, whose three-year-old grandson Nannaphat was among the dead, used some of the payout to renovate their home.
Gone are their home’s wooden walls, scuffed floors, and children’s toys. Banyen’s sobs echo against new white tiles and freshly painted walls.
“I miss him every day. I dream about him every day,” said the 58-year-old.
“I see his face all the time. To think or talk about him makes me tear up,” Banyen said as her husband Kham Pornnikhom passed her tissues.
Behind them a dark wood cabinet with toys and framed photographs of Nannaphat – known by his nickname Stamp – dominates the empty room.
“It’s like there’s an open wound,” she said.
Virtually everyone in the village has a connection to one of the bereaved families, with the whole community blanketed by grief.
“I MISS YOU”
Stamp’s grandfather Kham said they talk about him every day, but that some families wanted to leave the massacre in the past.
“If you talk about the incident then they will say it’s hurtful and it’s better not to mention it,” he said.
Their neighbours had urged the couple to move on.
“But they’re not the one who lost someone so they can talk like that,” said Banyen, scrolling through photos and videos of her grandson.
Just for a minute, the empty house is filled with noise from the videos.
“Beep beep!” Stamp yells as he rides a small bike around the home.
Everyday moments – him brushing his teeth, slapping his bare belly after a bath, or showing the camera a grubby garden find – are replayed again and again on Banyen’s phone.
“Where are you right now?” Banyen asked as silence crashed back into the room.
“I miss you, Stamp.”
Source: CNA
