Sunday, October 4, 2009

When I visit Josh, it is always my intention to sit at his grave site with my journal and write. The past two weeks, however, I was unable to do so because of a burial that was taking place very close to where Josh lay and the weather. But yesterday, it was beautiful. Sunny, warm, a little breeze and quiet. I wrote this in my journal.

Already October! It is scary to me how quickly the time is flying by - it will be October 18th (7 months anniversary) before I know it, then Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, then Josh's 18th birthday (January 16th) and then the one year anniversary of his death (March 18, 2010).

I want time to stand still. Or better yet, I want it to go backwards - all the way to March 6 when Josh was deciding whether or not he should drive off school grounds at lunch with a friend to smoke pot. In my fantasy, he thinks, "No, this is not right and I can't risk getting caught again".

Then time can fly forward - through lacrosse season, end of school, summer, taking senior pictures, August football practices up to the South Lakes game Friday night and their win against McLean. They are enjoying a 4-1 record and who knows, with Josh at linebacker, maybe they would not have lost the one game by 4 points.

Everything we have gone through the past 6+ months would be erased and I would not be sitting here on a beautiful Saturday afternoon crying while writing by Josh's grave site, after putting a dream catcher and a rainbow decoration for the song that we all associate with him in his tree, and rose petals all over his grave. These all came from my friend and her kids, who are as close to us as family. Photos are below.

No, we'd be talking about taking the SAT's one more time, college choices, football games and his plays in them, the Red Sox making the playoffs, etc. etc. There is more that dies when a child dies - a part of a mother's heart and soul dies too. And all of the hopes and dreams for the future of that child are gone too.

When I think of Josh now, it is no longer the overwhelming grief, although this is still felt intermittently - it is just sadness and emptiness. A void. Space. Empty like his room which now has only a dresser and desk. Because Josh was our youngest, we are empty-nesters, but 1.5 years too early. Our home feels empty, without his quiet presence.

It is easier to keep the house clean, do the laundry and I am spending less at the grocery store. We don't have to wake up in the wee hours of the morning to make sure he is up to get to school on time. I was looking forward to these things at the right time. But not like this - not when our son took his life just two months after turning 17 years old and thrust an empty house on us with such sadness.

When I think of the dates looming in the future, it is so overwhelming. In order to cope, I take one day at a time. For what choice do I have? We have three other children who need me. But I have thought that if and when it is my time to go - that will be okay. I don't fear death - how can I when it would be a way to be reunited with my Josh?

Josh - I love and miss you so much. Be at peace, my dear boy and one day, we will be together again.

Love,
Mom