And although it has been 24 months or 730 days, Josh's death does not feel that far from me. I've created a space for myself to read and write in his room but sometimes, many times, it is hard to be there. The stuff on his desk stare at me. It is physically painful to see his handwriting. His glasses and sunglasses hang where he last put them. What if I could put them on and see what he saw, that last night two years ago?
Stuff is piled in his closet. Will I find any clues if I meticulously go through everything? I should start but can't find the motivation or energy. So things remain. For how long? Who knows. All I know is that I can't do anything about it now.
We've received a number of checks for Lauren's fundraising run that is happening next weekend along with heartfelt notes. Numerous Facebook messages, emails, cards from friends as well as perfect strangers. All to let us know that they are thinking of Josh and it hits me again - for the umpteenth time - how much our boy is loved and still missed by so many.
The tear ducts have recently been dry but not now. The spigots have turned on after receiving an email from one of Josh's school friends who shared very specific memories of him. Of what he taught her (how to solve a Rubic's cube - I forgot how obsessed he was with that), the last time she saw him which was the day he was suspended and a last text a few days before he died.
Why did he do it? Why did he end it all? Why did he leave everyone who loved him? The unanswerable questions followed by the inward self-grilling and the blanket of guilt continues, even after two long years.
I will end this post with pictures from the day.
Pictures from the cemetery....
A new chime from Josh's grandparents
Making a blanket of red and white rose petals
Beautiful flowers received today...
Slide show of the Wings gathering....Tim and I are so grateful to those who came to be with us....