Remembering Josh - 28 Months Later

Where has the time gone?  It is hard to believe that another 18th is here, another summer sans Josh (our third) is almost over, and that his friends are leaving for their sophomore year in college.  Time relentlessly marches on and all I can do is move along with it.

And despite the fact that it has been over 2 years since Josh has left us, his memory still burns brightly in the hearts of family and friends.

We just got back from a trip to visit Tim's parents and below are pictures of a bottle of wine they received.  When my mother-in-law drew my attention to the bottle, I just focused on the wine type - pinot noir.  Then she said, "look at the name."  When the beautiful script "Josh" registered in my brain, a very strange feeling occurred which happens periodically when I unexpectedly hear or see something that reminds me of our beloved boy.  Every cell, muscle and organ in my body stops - for one millisecond - as the memory of his death washes over me.

The same thing happened when I was sent these pictures from the moms of two of Josh's friends, who had recently gotten tattoos - in his memory.  One of them shared the reason:

 I got this tattoo of Josh's initials and date of death on my back because he always had my back and near my heart because that's where he'll always be.  

This beautiful arm tattoo has Josh's nickname and his football jersey number. 

RIP Josh - forever loved and always remembered.

My "Josh" tattoo - March 13, 2010

When we walked in for our appointment today, the place was buzzing with activity. Three artists were busy working on tattoos that were as varied as the people getting them. A high school girl accompanied by her friend and mother, and two others, male and female, probably in their late 20's. I was with two of Josh's friends, one of which was also getting a tattoo, in memory of him.

Josh's friend wanted his initials, "JLA" in light grey. I brought samples of his written work, as his friend wanted it in his writing.

For my tattoo, Josh left a very short note on that fateful night, with two sentences and his name. "Josh", possibly the last thing he ever wrote is what I wanted on the inside of my left forearm; small enough where I could hide it under my watch if needed, but still in a place where I could see it.

Getting ready - my pulse had quickened and sweat beads were forming on my brow. I must not be the only customer that experiences this, as a strategically placed fan was turned on by the artist, when he saw my discomfort.

I could not watch the procedure. And, contrary to other's experience, this did sting!

My beloved son's name, written on the night that he died, etched not only in my heart, but now on my skin.

"Pre-Josh", I would have never set foot in a tattoo place. But neither would I be writing on a blog. Or training for and running in a half marathon, which happens in less than a week. I've learned that "all bets are off" when you lose a child. The inconceivable has occurred, at which point, to deal with the loss, sorrow and grief, anything is possible.

I have also learned that grieving is personal. What helps one person deal with their loss may not be sufficient or appropriate for someone else. No matter how well meaning, it is not helpful to judge or criticize how someone grieves the loss of a loved one. The only exception I can think of, is if self-harming behavior is the result.

Grieving is also complicated, especially in the case of a suicide. And it is a lonely journey that must be taken to arrive on the "other" side - peace and acceptance. I have to admit, that almost a year into this "grief journey", I do not feel any closer to experiencing peace. I have to believe it will come but do not know when. Nor do I have any expectations. When you love someone as deeply and thoroughly as a mother does a child, how can there be a timetable?

So I continue to take one day at a time for this is all I can do. And I keep ending my posts with the same truth - Josh's tragic and sudden death has been more bearable due to the love, support, thoughts and prayers that we continue to receive.

God Bless

"JA"

Since Josh's passing, my mindset has changed about a number of things. One example is tattoos. I never really understood why someone would want to mark their body in that fashion. However, this past weekend, I accompanied one of Josh's friends as she got a "JA" tattoo on her arm, in memory of our son. She used the letters from a note that he had given to her, so the tattoo is in his handwriting.

I am not sure what I expected, but the place was clean and neat. Photo albums depicted real-life samples: all black, color, large, small, lettering, animals, NFL teams, flowers, etc. The variety was amazing.

The artists that we met were passionate about their work. Very knowledgeable and followed such strict hygiene protocol, it reminded me of being in a doctor's office. Since it was the first time for Josh's friend, the standard warnings that some people faint or get sick was a bit nerve-wracking, but in fact, the tattoo took less than five minutes and did not seem to bother her at all. This was the experience of our daughter as well, who got a "JLA" tattoo on her arm, shortly after his death. You can see this tattoo as well as a couple of others from Josh's friends on the side bar of the blog, under "Original Art".

While I wanted to go and provide moral support, I had an ulterior motive as I, too, have been thinking about getting a tattoo on my arm. His name, his handwriting, taken from the final note which had two short sentences and "Josh". Small and easily covered by my watch, when needed. But in a place where I can see it. Another way to have my beloved boy with me, everywhere I go.

Photos are posted, with her permission.

I think Josh would be flattered. But why are we having to do this in the first place? No matter where I turn, the unanswerable"why" question is always there.

God Bless