Please use this blog to help us remember Joshua Lee Anderson, who made the tragic and fatal decision to take his life on Wednesday, March 18, 2009. Please post any memories or thoughts you may have in the comments.


Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Memories: Like Priceless Treasures

About two weeks after Josh died, a singing group at his high school, the South Lake Singers performed a moving song called Prayer of the Children at the SingStrong competition, which they dedicated to our son. (Click here to view the YouTube video on a previous post.)

A few weeks ago, I received an email from one of the singers who has since graduated and gone to college. With permission, both the email and essay are below.

"Although Josh and I were not close friends, I am good friends with many of the people that love him dearly and the few times that I did hang out with him I was always struck by how kind he was to everyone and in every situation. I regularly read your blog and keep your family in my thoughts. I am now in college, and for my freshman writing seminar my first assignment was to write a personal narrative. There were no constraints to the assignment, and with a lifetime of experiences behind me I did not know what to write about. So I sat down at my computer and just began to write, and the words that followed surprised me. I ended up writing about my experience performing "Prayer of the Children" with South Lakes Singers at SingStrong and your son. I know that the words I chose could never do him justice, and a stranger reading my paper would never understand just how wonderful he is and how much he did for the world, but I decided to share it with you so you would know that he touched and changed the people that were even on the very outskirts of his life."

I remember standing on that stage and experiencing the overwhelming feeling of unity. All of our heartbeats were suddenly one and we felt the steady beat pulsing through our connected fingers. It’s as if we were all tied together by one string; sixteen people who come from completely different places emotionally, mentally, and physically, that were suddenly all the same. We came together for one cause and we made our message clear.

I loved the time of day when I would get to put away my notebooks and binders, stand on the risers and hear the sounds of music circling all around me. There was nothing like singing to make me forget about anything real going on in my life and just let me focus on the intricate details of music. To feel the harmonies and dynamics take me away into a different world so separate from anything going on in my real world was a release I looked forward to each day. During my senior year of high school, my choir started working on a very memorable piece called “Prayer of the Children” by Kurt Bestor. It is so incredible and overpowering, the first time we heard it my teacher played it over the loud speakers in our class room and the music pushed through the whole room, threatening to make the walls expand. The voices jumped out of the speakers towards us, bringing with them the emotion of the whole song. After hearing the piece, I was thrilled to be able to try our hand at performing it, but I didn’t know if we would ever be able to match the intense passion with which the recorded choir sang. We had many excellent performers in my choir, but emotional connection is something we had always struggled with. We were good at singing the correct notes with the correct rhythms, but conveying the emotion and overall message of a song was foreign to most of us. We had never experienced the things that many songs are about like loss, heartbreak, or intense grief and we didn’t know how to find that place within ourselves where we would be able to fabricate those emotions to replay them through the song. Every class our teacher would try to get us to connect and understand what the true meanings of the lyrics we were singing were, but we were never able to reach that point on our own.

During my senior year of high school, a great tragedy struck my community. A beloved, talented, and incredible boy took his life very suddenly. Never in my life have I seen people so open with their emotions. To see football players break down and cry was heartbreaking but very connecting at the same time. This was, and remains, a very sad experience, one of the saddest things I’ve experienced in my life, but I strongly believe that everything happens for a reason and I knew that we would all be able to find a way to learn from it. To see everyone’s grief plainly expressed all over their faces shows how important Josh was to them as a friend and to our community as a whole. Nobody was ashamed to admit that losing Josh was a painful thing, and this reminded us all that even if it is not expressed every day, there are always people in our lives that care about us. He reminded us that even in the deepest and darkest shadows of life, we have to remember that those shadows wouldn’t be there if there was no sunlight to create them.

After Josh passed away, everyone was distraught. He was truly one of the most strikingly kind people I have ever met, and I know that he left a positive impression on everyone. He was an amazing athlete, helping our team score touchdowns every game but more significantly always keeping up a positive attitude in everything he did. To say it was shocking to find out Josh would no longer be flashing his quirky smile in the hallways is an understatement, he is missed every single day. There are clearly things we did not know; things he was aching to be helped with, things he was struggling with so hard internally. Josh’s struggle gives meaning to the lyrics:
“Can you hear the prayer of the children?
On bended knee, in the shadow of an unknown room
Empty eyes with no more tears to cry
Turning heavenward toward the light”.

He gave our song a meaning.

The choral program at my high school was awesome and my teacher worked so hard to ensure that we had every opportunity available to us. Because of her efforts we were able to host the East Coast A Cappella summit, an amazing event that invites professional a cappella groups from all over the world to perform and raise money for Alzheimer’s research. Every year there is a high school competition and the winner gets to open the big show on Saturday night. It is very competitive and a huge honor for the winner to be able to stand on the same stage as legendary professional groups. My choir was preparing “The Prayer of the Children” for the summit, but after Josh passed away we questioned whether something as mundane as a choir performance was appropriate during a time of such struggle. We didn’t know if we would be able to get through it, just a week after the passing of someone who was a great friend to many of us. The words are incredibly moving:

“Can you feel the hearts of the children?
Aching for home, for something of their very own
Reaching hands, with nothing to hold on to,
But hope for a better day a better day

and are so central to Josh’s struggle, and for one of the first times we were finding an unavoidable connection between our music and our lives. Even in a time of intense sorrow and emotional pain we understood that maybe our connection to the meaning of the music could be a small way to help us deal with the passing of Josh.

Standing on the stage wearing black with Josh’s number 33 painted across our chests, gave us a physical reminder of what we would never forget: what experience brought meaning to our song. In that moment on that stage I felt like part of something bigger. In light of such a huge and devastating loss that could never be replaced, we were also creating something. A connection among us and with our audience through our music-through the powerful words, the raw emotion, the crisp rise and falls of our voices as they went from loud to soft that made goosebumps rise up on the arms of all sixteen of us singing our hearts out. And that’s literally what we were doing-letting everything go from that terrible week and finding solace in the message of the music. We all felt our voices join in the air with the loss, the anger, the grief, and our need for Josh, but in that air we also found our strength. Together we would be okay by uniting ourselves in the music and for the first time feeling a connection that not only transformed our performance of the song, but brought us together in all of our times of need.

During that performance, we sang ‘Prayer of the Children’ for the first time without a physical conductor standing in front of us guiding us through the piece. We just stood there, sixteen people who come from completely different places emotionally, mentally, and physically, that were suddenly all the same. As we all lined up on the stage and clasped hands we were ready to show what we were learning from the harsh reality we were plunged into and how it gave meaning to the words we had previously sung so mindlessly over and over again. There was no cue to start, we all just knew. We felt the music within each of us because the song was no longer just a song. It was a message, it was a connection, it was Josh.
I am so grateful that Josh's friend took the time to share this with us. Any memory of our beloved Josh is a priceless treasure - stored in my heart forever.

God Bless

Thursday, October 8, 2009

"Why?" by Rascal Flatts

I received an email last week from Josh's counselor at school. She is a big country music fan and heard a song from Rascal Flatts on the radio called "Why?". It moved her so much that she had to pull the car over while listening. With one click of a button, I could download the song as a gift from her and listen to it as well. Her caveat - when I was ready.

The email sat in my Inbox for several days and a few days ago, I listened to it. There is something about music - the melody, tone, lyrics that can capture feelings and emotions like nothing else. I began crying while listening to the first sentence; it is as if he is singing about our Josh.

You must have been in a place so dark, you couldn’t feel the light.
Reaching for you through that stormy cloud.
Now here we are gathered in our little home town.
This can’t be the way you meant to draw a crowd.
(Chorus)
Oh why, that’s what I keep asking,
Was there anything I could have said or done.
Oh I had no clue you were masking,
A troubled soul
God only knows what went wrong and why you’d leave the stage in the middle of a song.

Now in my mind I’ll keep you frozen as a 17 year old,
Rounding third to score the winning run.
You always played with passion no matter what the game,
When you took the stage you shined just like the sun.
(Chorus)

Now the oak trees a swaying in the early autumn breeze,
The golden sun is shining on my face.
Tangled thoughts I hear the mocking bird sing
This old world really ain’t that bad a place.

Oh I there’s no comprehending and who am I to try judge or explain
But I do have one burning question,
Who told you life wasn’t worth the fight?
They were wrong…..
They lied…..
Now you’re gone and we cry
It’s just not like you to walk away in the middle of a song.
Your beautiful song.
Your absolutely beautiful song.




Friday, June 12, 2009

June 12, 2009 - Weekday or Date?

This probably seems like an odd title for a post; I will try to explain. Josh decided to leave us on March 18th, which was the the third Wednesday of the month. So, when do we commemorate his death? For example, the third Wednesday in June is the 17th. But three months is on Thursday, June 18th.

This might seem like a trivial question for many, but for Tim and I, it means the difference between a somewhat "normal" day and one that is filled with memories, questions and almost unbearable pain. And for me, non-stop tears.

This question is not unique to us. I wrote in an earlier post that I had been doing a bit of reading to help me deal with this tragedy. One such book is called "When Suicide Comes Home - A Father's Diary and Comments". It is the journal entries that the author, Paul Cox, made after his son committed suicide, a couple of years following his high school graduation. He dedicated this book to his young son's memory and to the hope that it would offer help and assistance to others facing the same tragedy.

This is what Paul wrote two years after his son's death:

I thought I would have worked out when to commemorate it by now. I haven't. I don't know whether to mark it on the month and day, or mark it on the third Friday of November. Should I commemorate on November 20th, no matter the day of the week, or the third Friday no matter the actual date? It seems silly, but it is important to me.
As I compare his thoughts and feelings at certain days after his son's death with my own, I am finding that virtually everything is the same. This may be in part because this poor father was all alone in the house when he found his son. It was the same for me. I can relate so well to his struggle with the mental picture that "just keeps playing like a continuous film loop". And the complete and total feeling of blame, despite what everyone says.

We have posted on this blog a playlist of songs that were Josh's favorites, based on how frequently they were played. I have listened to these songs over and over because it felt like Josh was speaking through them. I should not have been surprised to read that the author also found songs, three of them, left on a CD in his son's CD player. The lyrics were sad as well, about "dying, being missed, and going to Heaven."

He journals about having days where he begins to feel good and then feels guilty for feeling good. For me, it is like being in a perpetually cloudy, overcast day in which at times, the sun breaks through. Perhaps for only a moment or for a few hours. But never for the entire day - at least for now. According to my reading, sometime in the future, when I have come to the "acceptance" stage of the grief process, it may be opposite. Maybe at that time, most days will be sunny with momentary times of cloud cover.

He also journals in the days immediately following his son's death, the need for a "sign" or some communication that he was okay. I can relate to everything that is written on various days: "my poor, sweet son, I long to know that you are okay." Or "I sure would like some communication from him, or God, letting me know he is okay". Or "I long to see him, if only for a few seconds in a dream" or "I could sure use a short visit from him."

Those who have read previous posts know that I was praying for such a sign as well. And received one - on Easter Sunday, witnessed by family and friends. I am thankful to have received this so early on, but confess that I have been praying for another sign that Josh is okay. Just another confirmation that he is at peace would make it a little easier to move forward with our lives.

I feel a bit greedy because I may have received another sign from Josh, based on the feedback of those whom I have told this story. For me, I am not sure so I will relay the story here. In a previous post, I shared that Tim and I went to Hilton Head for a nice getaway trip. During this time, I made it a daily habit to walk on the beach as there is something about being by the water that I find refreshing and relaxing.

One of the days happened to be the one month anniversary of Josh's death. I was on the beach listening to the CD of the memorial service, the first and only time since the funeral. After doing so, I sat for a while and wrote in my journal while listening to his playlist. Needing to stretch my legs, I got up and walked to the ocean. Lo and behold, about 40 yards in front of me was a lone dolphin. It was so surprising to me that at first, I thought the water was playing tricks on my eyes. But sure enough, after floating in front of me for a little while, the dolphin slowly moved to my right and further out to sea. Within five minutes or so, I could no longer see the distinctive fin moving up and down. I wish I had my camera with me to record these precious moments.

According to our hosts, there are a number of dolphins that are sighted off of these shores. However, is it more than coincidence that this one dolphin was there - the exact moment that I decided to walk towards the water? I wish I knew for sure. At the time, I did immediately think of Josh and will end this post with the lyrics of one of the more haunting of his songs that came to mind.

"Into The Ocean" by Blue October

I'm just a normal boy
That sank when I fell overboard
My ship would leave the country
But I'd rather swim ashore

Without a life vest I'd be stuck again
Wish I was much more masculine
Maybe then I could learn to swim
Like 'fourteen miles away'

Now floating up and down
I spin, colliding into sound
Like whales beneath me diving down
I'm sinking to the bottom of my
Everything that freaks me out
The lighthouse beam has just run out
I'm cold as cold as cold can be.....

(chorus)

I want to swim away but don't know how
Sometimes it feels like I'm falling in the ocean
Let the waves up, take me down
Let the hurricane set in motion, yeah
Let the rain of what I feel right now come down
Let the rain come down

Where is the coastguard?
I keep looking each direction
For a spotlight, give me something
I need something for protection
Maybe the flotsam junk will do just fine
the jetsam sunk, I'm left behind
I'm treading for my life, believe me
(How can I keep up this breathing?)

Not knowing how to think
I scream aloud, begin to sink
My legs and arms are broken down
With envy for the solid ground
I'm reaching for the life within me
How can one man stop his ending
I thought of just your face
Relaxed, and floated into space

(chorus)

Now waking to the sun
I calculate what I had done
Like jumping from the bow, yeah
Just to prove I knew how, yeah
It's midnight's late reminder of
The loss of her, the one I love
My will to quickly end it all
Set front row in my need to fall
Into the ocean, end it all
Into the ocean (goodbye) end it all (goodbye)


Josh - please let me know again that you are okay.

God Bless



Saturday, May 2, 2009

An Inseparable Friendship

This slide show is in loving memory of the wonderful friendship of Josh Anderson & Bryce Armes.

Josh,
I will never have another best friend like you. For 17 years you were my very best friend and brother. I see you everyday and hear you. I don't even go 30 minutes without thinking of you. I know your death has changed so many lives. Lives you would not even think of. You closed your eyes to get people to open theirs. I will always think about you and love you man, you are my best friend. You will never be forgotten.

Love, B-rice - Rest in Peace my Brother


Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Leave Out All The Rest

Tyler shared a song with me that he said really applies not only to what we are feeling at the loss of our brother, but to what Josh must also be feeling. He told me to read the lyrics while listening to the song. The first time I listened to it, my eyes welled up and tears streamed down my face. I could almost hear my brother singing the words. When I shared it with my sister and my parents, they were equally moved. It's especially appropriate because it's performed by one of the bands my brother and I often listened to. I still remember sitting at the kitchen table with him, replaying one of their songs over and over so that we could memorize the lyrics.

The song is "Leave Out All the Rest" by Linkin Park. It plays in the slideshow below.






Here are the lyrics:




I dreamed I was missing
You were so scared
But no one would listen
Cause no one else cared

After my dreaming
I woke with this fear
What am I leaving
When I'm done here

So if you're asking me
I want you to know

[Chorus]
When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I've done
Help me leave behind some
Reasons to be missed

And don't resent me
And when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory

Leave out all the rest
Leave out all the rest
[End Chorus]

Don't be afraid
I've taken my beating
I've shared what I made

I'm strong on the surface
Not all the way through
I've never been perfect
But neither have you

So if you're asking me
I want you to know

[Chorus]
When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I've done
Help me leave behind some
Reasons to be missed

Don't resent me
And when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory

Leave out all the rest
Leave out all the rest
[End Chorus]

Forgetting
All the hurt inside
You've learned to hide so well

Pretending
Someone else can come and save me from myself
I can't be who you are

[Chorus]
When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I've done
Help me leave behind some
Reasons to be missed

Don't resent me
And when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory

Leave out all the rest
Leave out all the rest

Forgetting
All the hurt inside
You've learned to hide so well

Pretending
Someone else can come and save me from myself
I can't be who you are
I can't be who you are

Sunday, April 5, 2009

In memory of Joshua Lee Anderson, 1992-2009 - iTunes playlist

Here is a list of the songs that were among Josh's favorites, and were played at the memorial service. We created a published playlist on iTunes if anyone wants to download it, just click on the playlist title:

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Songs Performed in Dedication to Josh

Tim and I went to a gathering of South Lakes students on Sunday, organized by Josh's assistant football coach, who has quickly become a good friend. We heard that on Saturday, March 30th, there was a Sing Strong A Capella Summit at SLHS. Two of the student groups performed and dedicated their song to Josh. We were so touched to hear this and requested a video of the performance.

Prayer of the Children performed by the South Lakes Singers of Reston, VA opened the professional show and took first place.








Can you hear the prayer of the children
on bended knee, in the shadow of an unknown room?
Empty eyes with no more tears to cry
turning heavenward toward the light.
Crying," Jesus, help me
to see the morning light of one more day,
but if I should die before I wake,
I pray my soul to take."
Can you feel the hearts of the children
aching for home, for something of their very own.
Reaching hands with nothing to hold onto
but hope for a better day, a better day.
Crying," Jesus, help me
to feel the love again in my own land,
but if unknown roads lead away from home,
give me loving arms, 'way from harm."
(oooooo la la la la etc etc.)
Can you hear the voice of the children
softly pleading for silence in their shattered world?
Angry guns preach a gospel full of hate,
blood of the innocent on their hands.
Crying," Jesus, help me
to feel the sun again upon my face?
For when darkness clears, I know you're near,
bringing peace again."

Dali čujete sve dječje molitve?
Can you hear the prayer of the children?

Stand by Me Medley and Promise performed by South Lakes Mens A Capella Chorus (SMAC). They took second place. You will see on the video that the boys had Josh's number, 33, on their shirts.

Soloists: Yoan N'Komba, Steven Meyers, and Will Johnson. Promise performed by Yoan N'Komba with help from Steven Meyers. Yoan N'Komba took best male solo vocalist.





We are so grateful for the continued love, support and remembrance of our beloved son.


Monday, March 30, 2009

A Bond That Cannot Be Broken



I've been meaning to share my thoughts and feelings about Josh with you all, but it's been so hard for me to think about and try to put into words. So many things remind me of him and he stars in my most cherished memories. I feel almost like a part of me is missing; like I don't really make sense in this world without him. I never felt out of place when Josh was around. I stuck to him like glue. I've never been more comfortable or felt more like myself than when I was with him. I spent a lot of time this past week scanning the pictures that we have of Josh into my computer, so that I will have them even when I am away from home. As I went through picture after picture, I couldn't help noticing how many were of just me and him. He really was my best friend. And even though we slowly grew apart in high school, I never had a stronger bond with anyone else. The bond that I shared with my brother cannot be broken by his death. It will live on as I remember the times that we shared in his short stay here and it will be made new when we meet each other again in heaven.

There are many songs that I've been listening to that help me through my grief, but the one that stands out the most is "There You'll Be" by Faith Hill. These lyrics ring particularly true in describing my feelings about my little brother:

"When I think back on these times
and the dreams we left behind,
I'll be glad 'cause I was blessed to get
to have you in my life.
When I look back on these days,
I look and see your face.
You were right there for me.

In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky.
In my heart there will always be a place for you
for all my life.
I'll keep a part of you with me.
And everywhere I am, there you'll be.
And everywhere I am, there you'll be."



"Heaven (Candlelight Mix)" by DJ Sammy & Yanou featuring Do



I love you, Josh. Forever and Always.



-Gillian

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

In Josh's Memory


Thank You Alex A. for creating this video!