Remembering Josh: New Year's Eve

Friday, December 31, 2010

New Year's Eve - December 31, 2010

Reflecting on 2010, the images that flash through my mind center around Josh:

celebrating his 18th birthday on Jan 16th
the 1 year death anniversary on March 18th
half/full marathon fundraiser on March 20th

Then I think of what should be memories but are not:

high school graduation
going to college

And what he has missed out on:

kayaking on the Battenkill River in Vermont during a torrential downpour
watching Avatar in 3-D on an IMAX screen
learning how to ski

It is strange that I find his absence exponentially more profound than his presence. While alive, he just was. The baby of the family, always there, tagging along, interspersing our family conversations with his wiseguy comments or observations. Low-maintenance except in the mornings when it would take way too much energy to get him up and going. Otherwise, a quiet boy, easy going and willing to go along with anything.
I am glad for all the memories with family and friends in 2010 but as a mother, there is a corresponding emptiness that exists because Josh is not part of them. And he is not part of them because he is no longer with us. And he is no longer with us because he took his life. It is like a funnel - eventually all thoughts lead to that fact. Then comes the grief and sadness. It is inescapable.
I've had some strange dreams lately. Last night, I dreamt that I was at a memorial for Josh that was organized by a good friend. While presenting a gift to me, she began crying which made me cry. This happened right before the alarm went off so I woke up to tears on my face. Missing Josh. Tears while awake. Tears while asleep. Endless supply of tears - for Josh.
I was with my family for New Year's Eve. My mom bought clear balloons with silver snowflakes and after writing messages on them, we sent them up to the sky as a way of remembering our beloved son, grandson and nephew.