Is Hindsight 20/20?

These days, thoughts swirl non-stop in my head. Josh's death has changed me so fundamentally that everything I take in - be it a book, newspaper or magazine article, TV show, movie, song or conversation - is filtered through the same questions, "Why did Josh take his life? What did I do wrong? What I could have done to prevent it? What did I miss?" It is like wearing "I need to understand Josh's death" sunglasses, which colors everything I see.

I have just finished reading a very interesting book, The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. It has raised a lot of questions that I will attempt to articulate on this post - with what success, I am not sure.

I am also making progress on the mammoth project to scan all my negatives. I have just finished with 1999, when Josh turned 7 years old and it occurs to me that it will probably get harder and harder to look at pictures of each subsequent year, almost like a countdown to the year of his death - an event that I cannot stop from happening.

Looking at myself in the pictures is strange - I am completely oblivious to the impending doom, the tidal wave of grief and despair that will come in ten short years, the "suicide quake" that will upend our world. I am an unsuspecting victim - we all are - including Josh. He did not know that through a series of bad decisions on his part and getting caught and disciplined according to our school board's Zero Tolerance policy, that he would be facing circumstances beyond his ability to cope. No, in 1999, he was a happy, go-lucky seven-year old kid who was still excited about school, the baby of the family - spoiled by all. Even then, his smile could light up a room. The Christmas photo that year made a close friend cry when she opened up the envelope and saw Josh's beaming smile literally jump out of the picture.

If I only knew what tragedy would be coming, what would I do differently? Josh was such an easy, compliant kid at this age, very laid back and low maintenance. I remember our three older children needing more of my time, attention and energy. This saying was true in our large family, "The squeaky wheel gets the grease" and Josh did not squeak.

I started to notice his behavior changing, especially with school, around the end of 5th grade. He was not motivated, turned in assignments late or not at all and had a "laisse-faire" attitude about everything. Being a responsible student was not an issue with our older three kids, so this was new for us. Despite everything we tried, keeping on task with school work became an on-going problem. At one point, he was interested in home schooling. This was not something that I saw as a viable option but now I think, would he still be alive if I had done this?

"Would have, could have, should have" - these thoughts drive me nuts as I can write a list of these - if only I had known.

In Niffenegger's book, the main character is able to travel through time, forward and backward. He knows things that are going to happen and yet when he travels back to the time of that event, and attempts to force a different outcome, always without success, he eventually realizes that even knowledge is not enough to change what is meant to be.

Thus the title of this post. To me, "Hindsight is 20/20" has always meant that if I knew then what I know now, I could change the course of events by thinking or behaving differently. Like Josh's death - if I had done all of the "would have, could have and should have's", he would still be alive. But is this really true?

My mother has quoted an old Korean saying when discussing how some things for some people are inevitable. "If someone is meant to drown, they can do so in two inches of water". Meaning that even if they knew they were supposed to die by drowning and did everything they could to avoid water, it would happen anyway. The converse would be true too. If someone is not meant to drown, even if there were multiple opportunities for this to occur, it would not happen.

When I was very young, my parents tell me that I almost died. Apparently, I got sick and dehydrated which resulted in a very high fever and was rushed to the hospital. My vessels were so small that any attempt to give me life saving fluids through an IV were thwarted. As a last resort, they put one above my ankle (I still have the scar). My parents left one night to take care of my younger sister and get some rest. They were called back in the middle of the night because the doctors did not think I would make it.

I guess my survival was called a miracle as I made it against all odds. I think back to this event and ask God, "Why did you spare me? I was a small, insignificant child, so close to the line. All of the medical professionals thought I would die. Why didn't I?" And I invariably come to the same conclusion; for whatever reason, it was not my time.

And so I think about Josh. Why did our son die when another high school junior, who recounted his story in a recently read book, Aftershock, survived a three-way suicide attempt of slitting his wrists, jumping off a bridge onto interstate highway traffic? When he woke up in the hospital, he was furious that he was still alive. Since then, he has been trying to understand God's purpose as he has also survived the many life-threatening injuries as a result of his suicide attempt. Clearly, it was not his time.

Was it Josh's time? Despite anything Tim or I could have done, was it his time to go? My mother says that "Josh is an angel. He was here for a purpose. He is saving others". This is sometimes hard to hear because I would take it all back to have him with us

I cannot deny from what has been shared, that Josh's story is saving others. And for this I should be very grateful as it is an answer to prayer - that his death would not be in vain. In comparison to someone who dies and no one is moved, nothing changes, everything goes on as if that person never existed. How sad. How tragic. At least this cannot be said about our Josh as the impact of his life/death is being felt literally around the world. Amazing. He would be amazed.

So based on what I see and witness, was this meant to be? That he came to earth for a specific purpose? And are we seeing this purpose unfold?

• The spotlight shining on serious teen issues?
  
• Highlighting the stress and anxiety that some of our young people find too much to bear?
• Will kids be more open with their feelings and get the help they need?
  
• Will some make better decisions regarding drug/alcohol use?
  
• Will parents work harder to keep the communication lines open with their teens?
• Will parents make different decisions with their kids based on knowing Josh's story?
  
• Will something get done with the unconstitutional way our kids are treated via Zero Tolerance policies?
  
• Will someone, somewhere make a significant difference in this world, in part, because of the convictions developed through Josh's death?
  

I don't know, but I can only hope.

And so I end this post with pictures of the happy, seven-year old Josh.
Rest in peace, my son.
We love and miss you so very much.

God Bless

Pictures From Six Month Fundraiser

Tim and I are so grateful for the continual outpouring of love and support from all of Josh's friends and their families. It has meant so much that others remember us in particular, on the 18th of each month. These "anniversary" dates are so hard and I've come to see that in order not to spiral down into the depths of despair, we need to be with others.

Last Friday was the 6 month anniversary and since high school footballs games were played on Thursday, kids were able to come to the fundraiser, held monthly at the Buffalo Wings Factory. We took over the restaurant as so many people came. It is evident that our Josh is still loved and remembered. Our hearts were so encouraged.

We received some very special gifts that night. Tim is staying involved by filming the Langley games. The boys gave him a photo with their signatures. I received a plaque with the Lord's Prayer that will be placed by the dogwood tree we have planted in our front yard - in memory of our son.


I don't yet have the total amount raised, but when I do, I'll post it on the blog.

To end, here is a slide show of pictures taken at the restaurant.

September 18, 2009 - Six Months Later

I have been dreading this day. Six months since our beloved son decided to leave us. Why? This question still haunts me. I rack my brains to find some clue, action, word or deed that would have alerted us to Josh contemplating suicide, much less going through with it. I can't come up with anything and it drives me crazy.

I ask God, "Why did this happen? Why did you allow our dear boy to take his life? Why didn't you stop it? Why didn't you give my mother's intuition a nudge?" Surely I would've acted on it. I would've have asked the hard questions. I would've forced myself into his world to make him see this was not a viable option. Now it is too late. I am too late.

God is silent. He wants me to trust Him which is hard. But I am trying. I picked up this cross stitch pattern that I plan to work on while on my grief journey. It is a story that has been around for a long time but maybe there are some who have not seen it in a while or have never read it.

Footprints
One night a man had a dream. He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the Lord. Scenes from his life flashed across the sky and he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand, one belonging to him and one belonging to the Lord.

When the last scene of his life flashed before him, he recalled that at the lowest and saddest times of his life there was only one set of footprints. Dismayed, he asked, "Lord, you said that once I decided to follow you, you'd walk with me all the way. Why at the troublesome times in my life, the times that I needed you the most, would you leave me?"

The Lord replied, "My precious child, I love you and would never, never leave you. During your times of trials and suffering when you saw only one set of footprints...
That was when I carried you."

I have read this several times in my life and it has given me comfort. But there was always a part of me that knew that I had never known real suffering. Now I know. So it is at this time, when a part of my heart feels like it has died, that I have to ask myself, "Do I really believe?"

So part of my grief journey involves the testing of my faith. Is it possible to come through this "fire" with a faith that is stronger and more genuine than ever? I hope so because I know that being at peace with Josh's decision/death will have to involve trusting God. With Josh. With me. With our family. Believing that good can come out of this horrible, unspeakable tragedy. Believing the story above.

There is a bestseller that will soon be out as a movie. I read the book, The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold quite a while ago but as with many other things, I have a whole different perspective now. Anyone who sees the back of the book will know that this is a story about a 14-year old girl who was murdered and in heaven, is able to watch what happens on earth - with her friends, her killer, her grieving family. She sees her father writing in his journal and as I read this I wonder, "does Josh see what I write? Does he see this blog? Does he see how much he was truly loved?" I can only hope. And so I end this post with a letter to him.

Dear Josh,
I am sitting by your grave site. It is a cool, cloudy day. The mowers have come through so I've had to clear the grass clippings from your stone. Since it is cooler now, hopefully the fresh carnations that I've placed in your vase will last for a while. There is a little breeze so I hear your chimes. There are seven now in "your" tree. I am the only one here so it is quiet and peaceful.

It has been six months since you decided to leave us. I still do not understand why but know I need to accept your decision. As a mother, it is so hard. I can't help feeling like I failed you. If only you could have told me what you were really feeling inside. I would have done anything to help you. And not just me - your dad, siblings and friends too.

In your short life, you've had such an impact. I've been re-reading the comments on the blog about you. All of your friends say the same thing - that you were one of the kindest and nicest kids - who would never say anything bad about anyone else. You brought a smile to all who knew you. You made people laugh. Quieter than most, but when you spoke, people took note. Smart. A great team player. Being a surprise baby, you were always special to us. But I didn't realize, until hearing from your friends after you were gone, how special you were to them.

My son, there is nothing that I can do now except to try and accept what has happened and move on. I'll tell you, it is not easy. Sometimes I have a busy day at work and almost forget what has happened. Then I remember and it hits me like a punch in the stomach - to where I can bowl over in pain. I guess this is to be expected from a mother who has lost her baby. I know you didn't mean to cause this much sorrow and grief. I only hope that you are at peace and know how much you are loved and missed by your dad and I. You were a surprise gift given to us over 17 years ago and we cherish every moment that you were a part of our lives.

PS - I read in the paper of a 15-year old boy who threw himself in front of a train in Maryland. This is now the 6th boy between the ages of 15 - 22 that I've heard who has killed himself. I don't know the circumstances of this poor boy but some of the others, I do. They were like you, from families who loved them dearly. What did we do wrong? What is happening in our society where young men are choosing not to live? I don't know the answer, but it is scary.

PPS - You are buried in such a beautiful place - like a park. So Grandpa and Grandma have bought plots not far from where you are. So when their time comes, you can keep each other company. Also, when we got a grid map of the place where you are buried, Grandma was the first to notice that you are in section #33! We looked at each other in disbelief. It still amazes me when I think about it. Maybe Dad and I will buy plots so that we can one day be all together.

Rest in peace, beloved son. Be our guardian angel.
Love you with all of my heart,
Mom

Would anyone else like to write a letter to him? Please feel free as a comment to this post.

God Bless

"Suicidequake" - September 11, 2009

I am probably no different than any of you. When I see the date, September 11th, I am transported to that horrible day when our country was attacked in a most vicious and unmerciful way. I remember exactly where I was when the unthinkable had occurred and the numbness at the realization of how many innocent and brave lives were lost.

There was absolutely no warning for those whose loved ones died on this day. They kissed their spouses, children and friends good-bye as they boarded planes or went to work. Little did they know that within moments, their lives would be changed forever.

I have a greater understanding of what these survivors must have felt as my world has been been changed forever too, but in a different way - by suicide.

In their book called Aftershock: Help, Hope and Healing in the Wake of Suicide by David Cox and Candy Arrington, suicide is likened to an earthquake. I find it an appropriate analogy as while earthquakes might give off some warning signals, they are often so unexpected that no one is prepared for the utter devastation and chaos that occurs. Cox begins the book with his own experience - his father took his life when he was 9 years old. He was the last family member to see his dad alive.

On July 17, 1967, an earthquake rocked my world. Felt by relatively few people, it devastated those in its epicenter and brought chaos to our lives. Although not a dynamic force of nature, the event shook my universe, crumbled my stable foundation, and sent shockwaves far into the future. It was suicide.

I can relate to the author's description of the overwhelming devastation that the immediate family suffers as the "epicenter" of the "suicidequake". And just as an earthquake can be felt for miles around, so the effects of Josh's suicide have radiated far beyond our family.

Next Friday will be six months since he has been gone. It is hard to believe almost half a year or two seasons has passed. On the one hand, it seems like yesterday and I am still raw with grief. On the other hand, as I think back to everything that has occurred, I feel detached, as though I see snapshots of someone else's life, their tragedy, their loss, their heartache and sorrow.

Maybe it is my mind and heart's way of protecting myself for if I could feel the brunt of Josh's death, even 6 months later, I don't think I could handle it. The pain would be too much for this poor mother's soul to bear. When I do recognize that it has happened to me, I feel sorry for myself - which is a new feeling. But how can I not? I am living every mother's worst nightmare and the horrible thing is that I can't wake up. It won't go away. Josh really did take his life - for reasons I still cannot fathom, but need to accept.

Sometimes, I wish I could move faster through this "grief journey" and get to the other side which I hear is acceptance and peace. This seems so far away to me - a distant shore that I am struggling to reach. I am realizing from my reading that I must be patient and while I don't want to be stuck or frozen in grief, I shouldn't rush it either.

The secondary effects of an earthquake are often greater than the actual event: fires from broken gas mains, flooding from ruptured water lines, theft and looting in unprotected areas, and panic and fear as aftershocks continue. In a matter of minutes, everything that is stable and firm is destroyed. Once familiar surroundings, now devastated, are oddly unrecognizable.

Just as earthquake survivors must sift through the debris of their homes and lives, so suicide survivors must deal with the emotional and practical fallout that remains. Life becomes unstable and uncertain. It is possible to rebuild your life following suicide, but it involves hard, painstaking work (83).

I guess this is where we are at. Slowly picking through the debris, trying to get our lives back in order and learning how to live with the vacancy and loss felt from Josh's passing every minute of every day.

Thanks so much to all who continue to keep us in your thoughts and prayers. I am not ashamed to say that we still need them.

God Bless.

Pictures of Josh: 5 - 6 years old

I've successfully scanned in two more years of negatives to my computer. What a monumental project this has become! Good thing I will not be hosting Thanksgiving as my dining room is now "Memorial Central".

This blog is a memorial too. In Louise DeSalvo's book, Writing As A Way of Healing, there is a section called, "Writing A Loved One's Dying". How apropos. A memoir is referenced, Heaven's Coast, written by Mark Doty about his lover's death from AIDS.

Making a record of Wally's life and death was a way for Doty to remember him, to hold onto him. Remembering, he says, "is the work of the living." It is what the living must do for the dead. Recalling faces and they way they look in all moods and weathers. Anecdotes that they tell and tell and tell again. Incidents that signify the shared life in all its variety - its ecstatic and banal moments. "Gestures, tics, nuances, those particular human attributes that distinguish us as individuals." Doty believes it is his duty to capture the singularity of Wally, to erect a monument of words to his partner. But Heaven's Coast is a testament, too, to Doty's love for Wally and to his loss and grief (188).

I can relate completely and this is how I feel about the blog. It is a web monument - being erected by each post, comment, photo, shared story and art work - in honor and memory of our Josh. It is also a testament to the love felt for him by family, friends and those who have never met him. This was articulated in a recent comment from a friend whom I have not seen for years, and who, because of what she has seen in this blog, cries not only for me but for him.

This blog is also a record of the tragic circumstances surrounding his death and a call for parents to question the effectiveness of the Zero Tolerance policy in many of our school systems.

It is reminder that the minds of our young people can be quite fragile. That sometimes, they are not as strong, competent and emotionally mature as they appear to be and need more support and protection than we may think.

It is with these thoughts in mind that I end this post with a slideshow of when Josh was five and six years old. Missing front teeth, Little League baseball, first day of kindergarten, Halloween, first (and only) trip to Disney, summer visiting both sets of grandparents in Oregon and on Cape Cod, Christmas.




Josh - we love you so much.
Rest in peace, our dear boy.

God Bless

Writing to Heal - August 30, 2009

Strangely enough, the thesaurus has become my friend. Helpful as I journal through my days, striving to put into words the depths of my feelings and emotions - struggling to come to terms with Josh's passing. It is so hard and painful yet I push through as I believe it is better for me to face the grief head-on, rather than to avoid or suppress it, as tempting as this may be.

In her book, "Writing As A Way of Healing", Louise DeSalvo summarizes ten years of scientific research recorded by James W. Pennebaker while at Southern Methodist University. Here are two quotes that keep me motivated.

Many researchers have observed that survivors of childhood sexual abuse and other trauma (like rape) or the suicide or accidental deaths of people close to them, if they do not discuss these events, tend to develop more major illnesses than people who do express their feelings (24).

Writing that describes traumatic or distressing events in detail and how we felt about these events then and feel about them now is the only kind of writing about trauma that clinically has been associated with improved health. Simply writing about innocuous subjects (like what we did throughout the day) or simply writing about traumatic events or venting our feelings about trauma without linking the two does not result in significant health or emotional benefits (25).

There is now a thick, black line that is permanantly placed in time. Before Josh Died and After Josh Died. Everything in my life is relegated to these two time periods. Because he is gone, nothing will ever be the same. And it happened without warning or suspicion. Without any time to prepare myself. One moment, I am feverishly working to get ready for a client meeting, thinking that Josh is upstairs sleeping; the next, I am all alone and holding my dead son in my arms - screaming his name over and over again.
I write to help me navigate this new grief journey. I write because according to DeSalvo, "after a loved one dies, our lives are temporarily in serious jeopardy" (189) and that "we are living in the midst of the disintegration of everything that has marked our lives as normal and meaningful" (195).
Disintegration - this is an accurate description of what has happened on March 18, 2009. My thesaurus gives me other words and I nod my head "yes" to all: break apart, fall apart, shatter, explode, blow up, collapse, perish, bust.
From my reading, I understand that my writing is a quest for several things: to try and understand why Josh took his life, which I know is a futile exercise, but I cannot stop asking; to acknowledge the irrevocable changes to my world and to find some order and meaning in the chaos after his passing.
And so, I find myself in DeSalvo's words:

People who write about their loved one's deaths are paradoxically engaged in a search for the meaning of their loved one's lives. They want to make a record; they want to describe their loss and their grief. But they want to discover, too, an overarching meaning for this death so that it will not have been for naught.

This seems especially necessary if the death was a violent one, if it was a suicide or an accident, or if it was the death of a child. For these deaths greatly threaten our sense of order. They shake the foundations of our belief in a meaningful, beneficent universe; they make us question whether any actions we undertake have meaning" (191).

One of the earliest exercises in her book asks the reader to think about a metaphor for writing. For her, writing is a "fixer"; a means by which she can work through problems and find healing or like a compass, giving her a "fix" on her life - where she is, where she has been and where she is going. For another author, writing is like a "very sturdy ladder out of the pit" (8). For me, writing has become a life preserver. I will end this post with what I wrote in my journal about this metaphor.

Writing is now my lifeline - my life preserver. Without it, I would drown in all of my feelings, sorrow and guilt. Where could it all go except inward to eat away at my soul? Instead of drowning, I am holding onto this life preserver - bobbing up and down in my grief, but not going under. The writing on the blog forces me to think about how I am feeling, organize it and write so that it makes sense to myself and others.
This life preserver is tethered to something bigger - a boat that maybe represents normalcy or happiness (can my life ever be "normal" again? I don't think so). Can I ever say that I will be happy (can't even imagine it right now). So here I am, hanging onto this life preserver - writing - not ready or able to get into the boat. It has been a natural thing to do - even though I've never had to write for my life until now.
Without my life preserver (writing), I would have drown. It has saved me. Could I even hope that my life preserver has provided a life preserver for others?

Please let me know.
God Bless

Remembering Josh - T shirts, Chimes and Monthly Fundraiser

What helps me these days as I try to cope with the indescribable pain and sorrow associated with losing our Josh? Simple - it is the knowledge that he is being remembered by all of you. This means more to me than you can know. My spirits have been lifted by recent examples such as these....

• When I hear a story, memory or dream about our son.
• When I hear that a football teammate is not only wearing Josh's number this season (33), but has also put his initials (JA) on new football gloves.
• When plans are moving forward to plant a tree on the McLean Youth football field, in memory of Josh, who played since he was eight years old. I still love the name of this age group - "Ankle Biters".
• When I hear that some of his closest friends have his pictures in their homes or in their rooms.
• When I hear that you still visit the blog and it helps you in your own "grief journey".
• When you tell me that knowing the circumstances around Josh's tragic death has caused you to think about your family and perhaps make some changes that may save your children, or at least, strengthen the relationship.
• When you say that now, over five months later, you still think about and miss our Josh.

The title of this post and the following pictures are other ways that encourage me. Our daughter, Gillian, designed a T-shirt soon after Josh's passing. I have provided the link, in case you would like to order shirts, as some of his football teammates have recently done. Whenever I see someone wearing this shirt, my heart catches. It is a reminder of our loss, but also a way to commemorate his brief but beautiful life.

http://www.customink.com/designs/rememberj/12758413-2583889/retrieve

A couple of new wind chimes were recently placed on "Josh's tree" - close to his grave site. We appreciate these gifts - bought specifically for him by his friends.



On the 18th of each month, there is a fundraiser at the Buffalo Wings Factory in Reston. As the day approaches, it is a painful reminder of another month without Josh. September 18th will be six months or half a year since he died. It is amazing and sometimes frightening how quickly the time passes. It definitely helps to be with others on these anniversary days. I appreciate those who came out in August. Below are some photos from that night.




We appreciate the continued love and support from our family and friends. Speaking for Tim and each of our surviving children, we could not handle this loss without you.

God Bless.

My Dream - August 24, 2009

I've only had two dreams about Josh since he died. The first occurred a couple of months afterwards, and was so strange that I didn't bother writing it down nor have thought much about it since. The second dream was four night ago - right before I woke up, so I remembered all of it. It was like a movie, going from one scene to the next.

First scene: Tim, the girls and I were at home, but not our current home nor one we've ever lived in, but it felt like home - you know how dreams are. We had white shag carpet and just like what happened in real life a few months ago, our washing machine overflowed. Walking into the hallway, I saw water everywhere and starting yelling for help to clean up.

Next scene: I was taking something into the garage (s0 we could pull up the carpet) and I saw Josh putting something down. I was shocked and said, "Josh, is that you?!?" We locked eyes and he gave me his infamous smirk. He looked good - tall, healthy and strong. I couldn't believe my eyes and thought I was seeing a mirage.

Next scene: He was standing right in front of me and I was poking him with whatever I had in my hand - not sure what it was, maybe a pencil. The poking was hitting something solid! I asked him to give me a hug. He obliged me but I could tell that he felt awkward. I didn't care and said, "Hug me tighter!" which he did, and it felt like so good. I asked Tim if he could see Josh, but he could not.

Next scene: We were standing in front of a nail that was sticking out of the wall. I had a key ring with several keys that I did not recognize. He wanted me to put the keys on the nail in a specific order. It seemed very important that I do so exactly as he said.

Then I woke up.

Being a bit groggy, it didn't really register what just happened. As my mind started remembering the dream, I quickly got my journal and wrote everything down. I felt pretty happy to have a dream about him since I have wondered why he wasn't in them more frequently. Also, he looked good , which was a relief. Once recorded, I attempted to decipher what it meant but didn't get very far, so I left it for later.

After re-reading my dream yesterday, I spent some time thinking and writing about what it could mean. Maybe Josh is telling me that he wants to help. To not forget about him when things are happening in our lives. He wants to still be involved.

Keys open things. Maybe I am thinking too much of him in the past and that my heart needs to be opened so that he can live with me in the present. That I should leave behind the thoughts of what was - with all of its regrets, guilt and questions - and rather, live for now, with him always by my side.

Gillian wrote this and shared it with Tim and I a couple of days before my dream. Maybe he is telling me that what she is saying is true.

"...Another resolution of mine is keeping in touch with my brother. Wherever he is, I want him to know that he is a part of my everyday, my present and my future, not just my past. I want to keep him alive in my life and I want to stop thinking about him in the past tense. It's hard for me to just imagine having these conversations with him so I am (finally) using the journal that my mom gave me to write to him, not about him. I tell him how I felt when he left, I tell him what I'm feeling now, I share memories I have with him and I tell him that I am determined not to forget. I tell him that I love him and miss him. That he will always, always have a place in my heart."

I love what she wrote and along with this dream, I have something new to think about. A way to navigate this "grief journey".

God Bless.

Sadder Than Ever, Five Months Later - August 18, 2009

Is it even possible? To feel more pain, anguish and sorrow than when our dear seventeen year old boy died five months ago? I would have thought “no”, but unfortunately, it is so. The ache has intensified and the grief has not abated; it is still overwhelming in its force.

Why? Maybe it is because our two girls will be leaving home soon - one to start a new job in Atlanta, and one to go back to college. Maybe I fear Josh’s absence, overlooked while the girls are home, will be more than I can bear.

Maybe it is because football practice has begun and I fantasize what should be. Josh coming home, hot and sweaty, taking a refreshing dip in the pool and passing out on the couch. I can close my eyes, visualize him and in doing so, my heart breaks even more.

Maybe it is because the days in August are quickly passing followed by a new school year. Josh should be a senior – big man on campus. Leader on the football team. Enjoying the present, while looking to the future. But it will not be.

With this example, it has dawned on me that Josh experiences loss as well – and this knowledge adds to my grief. We saw the new Harry Potter movie while on vacation – he would’ve enjoyed it. We went horseback riding and I could envision his smile/smirk at this new experience. Laughing at the horses as they raised their tails and pooped at will. Trying to determine, as all the men were, how to be less uncomfortable while trotting.

Has Josh ever skied? I don’t think so. Will ever experience college life? No. Have the chance to find his “soul mate” and marry? No. Ever know the joys of fatherhood? No, no and no. No new songs, books, video games, or experiences – ever. What a waste. What a loss. Why didn’t he think about these things before taking the steps to end his life? Maybe they would’ve pulled him back from the brink and he’d still be with us today.

After five months, why isn't it any easier? Maybe it is because the horrible reality of our “new” lives, without the existence and being of our beloved Josh, is sinking in. Is this really it? Did it really happen? Is he gone from our lives forever? I can’t stand the thought and want to scream and shout, “NO, IT’S NOT TRUE!”

Maybe it is because of a long letter received from a dear college friend. I should have waited to the end of the day to read it. Her empathy and condolences as a fellow mother made me cry. She also shared that her twenty-two year old daughter was no stranger to suicide as one of her best friends in high school took his life, and a girlfriend in college died by her own hand. More tears flowed, thinking about these two young lives, our son and three other young men I’ve heard of, who took their lives this year between January and April.
Why are young people doing this to themselves? What makes suicide a viable option? How can their minds allow for this permanent self-destruction? Why didn’t they open up with their true thoughts and feelings – to receive the critical help needed?

Has the media (TV, movies, books, video games) de-sensitized our young people to the horrors of death and its resulting wake of despair and sorrow for those left behind? Has this made it easier for them to walk towards and embrace death? I don’t know.

It is hard for Tim as well. Since Josh was a linebacker, Tim would watch football games on TV, focusing on that position in hopes of catching a great play, which he would then show and discuss with Josh. The first preseason Patriots game was on the other night, and Tim cannot watch the linebackers anymore.

Since he is a real estate agent, Tim spends quite a bit of time alone on the road. “Josh’s death,” he says, “is always right here”, holding up a hand in front of his face. Last week, he was driving around in Herndon/Sterling, on the same roads that he and Josh traveled while doing errands - just a few days before his death. It is so hard when something as insignificant as driving down a road can bring up bitter memories.

Unfortunately, it does not seem that grief follows a linear progression where one goes from stage to stage – on the way to recovery. No, for me, the grief process is more circular where the stages follow one another, round and round, and sometimes out of sequence. For how long, I do not know. Some of Josh's friends tell me that when they think of him, it is the happier memories that occupy their minds. Not me. When I think of Josh, it is still so hard, so painful, so sad and depressing. I don't know how long this circular voyage of grief will last - I only hope that at some point, the slope is upward, leading eventually to acceptance and peace.

Poignant writing from Nicholas Wolterstorff whose book, “Lament For A Son” was written in honor of his twenty-five year old son, who died in a mountain climbing accident.

Nothing fills the void of his (Josh’s) absence. He’s not replaceable. We can’t go out and get another just like him (32).

My son is gone. Only a hole remains, a void, a gap, never to be filled (33).

Something is over. In the deepest levels of my existence something is finished, done. My life is divided into before and after (46).

So it is with all memories of him. They all lead into that blackness. It's all over, over, over. All I can do is remember him. I can't experience him. The person whom these memories are attached is no longer here with me, standing up. He's only in my memory now, not in my life. Nothing new can happen between us. Everything is sealed tight, shut in the past. I'm still here. I have to go on. I have to start over. But this new start is so different from the first. Then I wasn't carrying this load, this thing that is over (47).

Perhaps what's over is happiness as the fundamental tone of my existence. Now sorrow is that (47).

I end this post with a photo of all of the family on Tim's side, wearing our "Josh" shirts, in memory of him.


Josh - we love and miss you with all of our hearts. Rest in peace, our dear beloved son.

God Bless.

Story from an older sister of one of Josh's friends

This story touched our whole family. With her permission, I have posted it on the blog.

Hi Mrs Anderson (& the rest of the Anderson crew),

I have never officially met you, but you know my brother Artie - I'm his oldest sister, Alexa. I've wanted to write to you for a while, but always thought it was kind of weird since you don't know me, but through your blog I don't think that bothers you very much. I wanted to share my brief memories of Josh with you, as he always held a very special place with me among my brother's friends...

It's a rather bizarre story about how I was able to immediately bring up your son's name when I thought of Artie's gang. When I was a freshman in high school, my best friends (Mary and Alison) went to Stone Ridge in Bethesda, while I went to O'Connell in Arlington. We only ever saw each other on weekends and during the summer. Just before our sophomore year started, we all went to Kings Dominion for the day. When we were in line for the bumper cars, we noticed this REALLY cute guy ahead of us. Through a series of frantic whispers, we decided that we must take secret pictures of him. I think he noticed (we were probably not the very covert), and he turned to give us a weird look. I boldly asked if he would take a picture with the three of us. Shockingly, he agreed.

The picture came out great - he had a beautiful smile and his arm around my waist (plus the three of us looked good). We decided to make up a story and history of this kid, based on this one picture. Since I didn't go to their school, not many of their classmates knew much about me. We then decided that he should be my boyfriend. Obviously, we needed to make it convincing, so we developed a whole backstory, starting with a name. I christened him "Josh Anderson," after my favorite actor (Josh Hartnett) and another friend of mine (Jackie Anderson). It seemed like a totally believable story. We even made up a screenname on AIM ("JAnder527") and a birthday (May 27, 1986). This ploy went on for a few months, and I think the people we told still believe he is a real person.

So you can imagine my surprise when, during my second year at UVA, I saw a real kid named Josh Anderson on Artie's football roster. I had come up to watch a game (their freshman year at Langley), and I was looking to see who I knew on the list. I excitedly exclaimed, "oh my gosh, is there seriously a kid named 'Josh Anderson' on this team?!?!" My parents just looked at me and nodded, not understanding my excitement. They mentioned that he was a friend of Artie's, and did not seem to appreciate the hilarity of finding out that a person who had been completely made up suddenly materialized and turned out to be real - even down to the nicknames!

A few months later, over Christmas break I think, I had the pleasure of meeting your son. I immediately told him the story of how I had dreamed up another Josh Anderson years earlier. Artie cut me off three-quarters of the way through the story because "Josh doesn't care," but Josh laughed all the same.

After that I ran into him at other times whenever I was home - picking up/dropping of people, gatherings at my house, sports events at Langley, etc. I think I may have even talked to you on the phone when you called to see if he was at our house (which I loved, because it showed me that it wasn't only my parents who called to check in). Even when he was with a big, loud group of other guys, he always stood out to me. Initially, this was because I was so thrilled to have found a flesh-and-blood Josh Anderson, but as I was around them more often, I noticed that he just had a strong, silent presence. He didn't have to be the most boisterous to get attention. But when he smiled (that classic smirk everyone mentions), you could see how it drew everyone in, and when he said something, they all listened (and laughed, loudly).

When I heard the awful news in March, I felt crushed. I actually came home to be with my brother, who was devastated. I will never forget how lost he (and his friends) looked that weekend. I cannot even imagine what your family went (and continues to go) through. As an older sister, I felt utter shock, grief, and disbelief for your other children especially. Through these past months, your blog has helped us all deal with this tragedy. I hope this random little story helps add another facet to Josh's life for you. He won me over when he didn't scoff at the story of the first Josh Anderson in my life, and I will never forget him.

Please give your daughter my congrats for her graduation from the Comm School. My thoughts and prayers are still with your family. Thank you for all that you have provided through your blog - it means a lot to a great deal of people.

Yours,

Alexa

My "Grief Journey" - Why, Josh, Why?

Consider this - everyone’s life is a journey, a linear road in which things happen, events occur and memories are made. There are forks in the road when decisions like moving, going to a new school, taking a new job, getting married, or having kids changes the landscape and makes the journey new, exciting and sometimes scary. At other times, unexpected obstacles make the road difficult and challenging but hopefully not insurmountable.

Our son, Josh was on such a road – a pretty typical teenage boy’s life as one can see by reading the posts on this blog. Granted, in the past year his journey was more challenging due to the changing of schools and just prior to his death, the probable expulsion from Fairfax County Public Schools. Difficult? Yes. Worth ending his life over? No, nor did he ever give any indication that he felt like it was.

But for some reason, still unknown to us and anyone else who has known our boy in his short life, he faced something he could not overcome nor could he share. Had he told either Tim or I, we would've done anything to help him. So whether this obstacle was like a Mount Everest that he could not climb, go around or pass through; or a deep chasm that he found himself unable to climb out of, he decided to end his journey. I don’t understand it and in my journal, I am writing the same three words over and over: “Why, Josh Why?”

To say his action has changed my life is an understatement. It has changed me - permanently. Prior to March 18, 2009, my own journey was pretty “normal”. Childhood, adolescence, college, marriage and over time, the normal chaos of juggling work and raising four kids with two dogs. Post Josh’s death, it's as if I have woken up from a horrible nightmare and am now on this somewhat familiar road minus a part of my heart - without any idea of what just happened and why. Why me? Why us? Why our son? Why, Josh, why?

I don’t want to be on this "grief journey" as it is not part of life’s natural order – a parent is not supposed to bury a child. It should be the other way around. I don’t like this journey as I am not prepared and am here against my will. Plus, it is so emotional - draining my energy and making the simple things more taxing. Why, Josh, why?

As a kid, the passing of our pet dogs was sad but did not put me on this journey. Nor did the deaths of my maternal grandparents (I never knew the grandparents on my father’s side). So at 48 years old, this is new. I feel for my own kids and Josh’s close friends who find themselves on this road at such a young age.

Regardless of my feelings or unanswered questions, here I am. Unexpected things have occurred, such as this blog. The writing has helped me and as I have been told, it has also helped many others. Of this, I am grateful.

These days, the bookstore is a magical place for me. At home, I frequent the large chains like Borders or Barnes and Noble. On our vacation in New England, however, I found locally owned bookstores similar to the one that Meg Ryan’s character operated in the movie “You’ve Got Mail”. With hardwood floors, tall wooden bookcases overflowing with books, comfy seats in various nooks where one can sit undisturbed for hours and friendly, knowledgeable employees whose love for books is unmistakable - a book lovers dream.

I have always been a reader, as mentioned in a Book Review post, but why this almost insatiable desire to read, read and read? I don’t know except that it is an important part of my journey.

A couple of days ago, as I was browsing through a bookstore in Vermont, this title intrigued me: Writing through the Darkness, Easing Your Depression with Paper and Pen by Elizabeth Schaefer. The author, who suffers from bipolar disorder, uses writing to successfully help her cope with her illness. She has also formed a writing group for others and the book is a result of what she has taught and learned.

Though I do not relate to her daily struggles, I do feel as though life is now dark and grey. After reading a few sentences shared below, I not only bought the book, read it in within a couple of days but also ordered seven more books based on the bibliography and resources listed in the back. This book is a gem.

This book and its approach to writing and healing are designed specifically for people coping with situational depression due to a difficult life event, or with major depression or the depressed phase of bipolar disorder (pg. 18).

Writing can help you overcome the trauma of a situational depression more quickly and assist you in finding perspective on how this event fits into your whole life (24).

Writing will help you discover your feelings, too. It can help you acknowledge the hell you may have gone through, validate how it may still pain you, and digest those feelings to bring you into a new place and perspective (52).

As I had read through the book - with all of my customary underlining, notes in the margins and dog-eared pages - I think, "Aha! This is why the blog is so important to me. And why I always feel better after writing a post, even though it is often difficult emotionally."

I never realized there were so many books on the topic of "writing to heal" or on "journaling". Here are some that I am eagerly awaiting.

• With Pen in Hand: The Healing Power of Writing by Henriette Klauser
• Writing as a Way of Healing by Louise DeSalvo
• Writing to Heal: A Guided Journal for Recovering from Trauma & Emotional Upheaval by James Pennebaker
• Writing to Heal the Soul: Transforming Grief and Loss Through Writing by Susan Zimmerman
• Journal to Self: Twenty-Two Paths to Personal Growth by Kathleen Adams

My "to read" stack is tall. The grief journey has led me to books written by survivors of suicide, books about why people commit suicide (I have not been able to read these yet), fictional books on the topic of suicide/grief and now, these books on writing/journaling to heal.

I read to learn and if helpful, I plan to share this on the blog. I also realize that I am reading to become a better writer. This is one of the most surprising things on my journey as I have never liked writing, nor would I ever consider myself a writer, but here I am, and it is helping. Who would ever have guessed?

I think that writing has helped some of you as I hear there are still friends posting on Josh's facebook wall. Many of you have written a letter to Josh in my book while in our home or at the funeral service. I cherish what was poured out from your hearts. Since then, maybe you have written a poem or a song or a story. If so, would you share it with Tim and I? We would love to read it.

Writing has been healing. This blog has been healing. Thanks again for the love, support, thoughts and prayers from all of you - it means the world to us.

God Bless
jandermom@gmail.com

First Summer Vacation - Without Josh

In the books that I have been reading, the authors have all commented on how the first of everything will be difficult: holidays, vacations, birthdays, special events, etc. I am seeing that these affect us in different ways.

Since Josh's death, our extended family has gotten together a couple of times - to celebrate Lauren's college graduation and for a birthday weekend. These have been the hardest on Gillian as Josh was her "hang-out" buddy. When they got bored, they found ways to entertain each other. For me, Mother's Day was endured. In fact, I would rather have skipped the whole thing - not only this year but for several years. I don't think it is possible to ever have a "normal" Mother's Day again.

So now we are on our summer vacation. It is good to be with family and this year, we are all making extra efforts to be together. But at every turn, we are reminded of Josh. We went out to a nice dinner while visiting with Tim's family on Cape Cod. All the cousins ate at one table and wouldn't you know, there was an empty seat - just for Josh. When I saw this, and even as I remember now, the tears flow. In his book, "Lament For a Son", Nicholas Wolterstorff wrote what I feel.

When we gather now there's always someone missing, his absence as present as our presence, his silence as loud as our speech. Still four children, but one always gone. When we're all together, we're not all together.

The picture are the top of this blog was taken at the Cape by Gillian last summer - so signature Josh. Chilling outside with his shades and listening to music. Who would've ever known that it would be his last visit?

We are now with my family in Vermont. Reminders are here too. While out to dinner, ribs were on the menu. We all knew what Josh's would've ordered. There is a snow making pond nearby which is a good place for people and dogs to cool off. Tyler and Emily both thought that Josh would've loved swimming with Biggie and Huck.

We are watching movies. Last night was Juno. I cry easily at movies anyway but now, any scene that reminds me of Josh will do it. When Juno sees the ultrasound of the baby, it reminded me of Josh's baby book that I recently found which had the ultrasound polaroids of him. Or when she gives birth and sees her baby for the first time, I remembered the cold January day our precious baby boy was born. The shower is a good place to cry without alarming or disturbing anyone else.

I can picture him in both of these places. Sleeping here, chilling there - not saying much, but just being with us. How could he be gone? Why did he go? I just can't seem to move past these two unanswerable questions.

This grief that I feel resembles an ocean where I am the shore and the water is the grief. Most of the time, the water is calm, slowly coming over the shore and slowly moving out. In and out, just like the grief. Always there but not always covering me.

Other times, the waves are high and crash against the shore. The tide is powerful and there is a strong undercurrent. Swimming is at your own risk. At these times, the grief is overwhelming, crashing against my heart, mind and soul. Luckily for me, this does not happen but maybe once a week for if it were more often, I don't know if I could survive. Maybe this is why the risk of suicide is higher in families when a loved one has died in this way.

What does help is this blog. Thanks to all who are part of this special community - you have been a lifesaver to me and my family.

God Bless.

A Post Dedicated to Josh's Friends

Josh’s friends have shown such love, kindness, generosity, openness, warmth and affection to Tim and I since the passing of our beloved son, I just had to dedicate a post to them. Their acts of kindness over the past four months have done much to ease our constant pain and anguish since that fateful day.

I have to admit, I did not think so highly of teenagers prior to all of this. Having gone through the “teen years” with our three older kids and in the midst of it with Josh, my descriptions would’ve been more like the following: self-absorbed, cocky and arrogant, argumentative, non-compliant, sullen, unopen, only want to be with friends, ungrateful for family, etc. etc. While these descriptions may have been true in part with our son, I am seeing that he was a completely different person with his friends. I now feel blessed to have been witness to and recipient of another side of these young people and have learned much from them.

As I have mentioned in a previous post, these kids have networking skills that far exceed anything I have. Through Facebook and text messaging, it was incredible how quickly the student body at both high schools found out about Josh’s death which happened on a Wednesday morning. By that afternoon, the first group of kids arrived with bouquets of flowers as offerings of sympathy. Josh's best friend lives in Georgia. As soon as he heard the news, he and his family jumped in the car and were at our home the next day, after driving through the night. During the following two days a steady stream of kids came to pay their respects and the first couple of lessons were learned.

The "out-of-sight, out-of-mind" way that I can view relationships is not the way of these kids. Even though Josh had not been part of the Langley high school student body for a year, it was as if he had never left. The number of these friends that came over was staggering. There were some close friends that were so affected, they did not go to school for the rest of the week. Others were very upset when the school administration did not have a moment of silence the next day for Josh. They organized a "black out” and made sure photos were taken of everyone who participated. Apparently there were so many kids that they had to take two pictures in the school gym.

The outpouring of love and support from the South Lakes high school students was equally overwhelming. Josh had been there less than one year and yet these kids treated him as if he had been there from the start. The lesson here is that it does not need to take me a long time to develop friendships that go beyond the superficial.

Two days later, on Friday, there was ”a black out” at this school, with hand-painted shirts reflecting his nickname, "Jushua" and football number, 33. The varsity lacrosse players dedicated the game to him that night by playing a man down on defense for the first play and by putting his initials "JA" on their helmuts and some on their faces. I remember the captain of the team sitting in our living room, telling us of the plan and Tim and I were touched and amazed.

One fellow football and lacrosse teammate will forever remember our son as he got a tattoo on his calf with Josh's name and date of death. This along with two other tattoos can be seen in the "Original Art" section on the right side of the blog. Josh's best friend mentioned above got the large one on his back and the small JLA was received by Josh's sister.

We heard that one baseball player at South Lakes decided to change his jersey to number 33, despite being badly stained - he didn't care because it was Josh's number.

We received a packet of beautiful cards made by fellow students in Josh's business management class along with this letter from their teacher: "The first day back after this tragedy, there were several reactions in my class. A few students, especially those that knew Josh well, stayed home from school. Others were just in a daze. I wanted to take their lead as to what we did in class...no one was really focused. I told them that they could write a letter to your family if they wanted to and that I would mail it to you. Some, as difficult as it was, courageously wrote a card."

The graphics, words and pictures were thoughtful and beautiful. For example, one card said, "When you lose a loved one, you gain an angel whose name you know". I don't know these kids and I don't know how well they knew our son, but it was very touching to have received their condolences in this way.

As early as the next morning after Josh's death, when we were planning the funeral service, it became clear to us that many students from both high schools were going to come and pay their last respects. Thanks to the wonderful work by the funeral home director, we were able to secure a large church that seated 1,500 people. On the day of the service, the numbers of kids that came far exceeded our expectations. It is a true testament to their desire to come and support the memorial service of their friend. As far as I could see and from what we heard from others who attended the service, there was not an empty seat anywhere.

The funeral director also told us that he would need a number of pictures by 8am the next morning. These photos would be part of a printed tri-fold” and slideshow for the service. Also a photo would need to be designated as the primary one - to be used for the large portrait. We had many pictures of Josh's younger years and thanks to my friend who gave us photos taken during a recent trip to Maine, we had great pictures of when he was older. What were were missing were pictures of his football season, one of which we hoped could be the main photo. By Thursday night, we had them all - thanks to Josh's girlfriend's best friend, who was on the South Lakes yearbook committee. These girls went back after school, accessed the yearbook computer and found pictures that we could use, including the one on the front of the tri-fold and on the side of the blog.

On the day of the service, other surprising gifts were received as well. We heard of a football that was brought and signed by his Langley teammates for the expressed purpose of being placed in the casket with Josh.

I had mentioned the day before to a group of kids that were in our home that I did not have many pictures of Josh in high school. Lo and behold, on the day of the service, three girls from Langley HS came to me with a CD of photos that had been taken during an art class in Josh's sophomore year.

Another young lady came with a pencil drawing that she had done of Josh. This really blew us away as it must have taken her hours to make. You can see this and many of the other items created in Josh's memory by his friends in the "Original Art" section on the right side of the blog.

Facebook - I know of at least three groups that have been created in Josh's memory. It was this next story that really gave me the idea of creating a blog. I heard from the kids that many were posting on Josh's facebook wall right after hearing about his passing. I said something like, "Wow, I wish I could see those" and the next day, one young lady came over with a print out of all of the postings complete with cover page (picture of Josh) and dedication written by herself - all in a presentation binder. To say that I was moved would be an understatement as she must have stayed up most of the night to get this done. Since I am not a Facebook user, at least not yet, I wanted to have a way to keep up with Josh's friends - thus this blog.

It has become what I had hoped. A quick scroll through the posts will show that much of the content has come from Josh's friends, either directly or indirectly.

The idea of have a fundraiser for Josh's memorial fund at the Buffalo Wings Factory came from a South Lakes football teammate who was working there at the time.

Just two days after his death, this slideshow was created by one of his friends to "help his memory live on".

In a singing competition less than two weeks afterwards, we heard that the songs were performed in dedication to Josh.

Other pictures of Josh and friends on the bus and hanging out at the Apple store were supplied - giving us a picture of another side of our son.

An original poem showed me that these kids are grieving his loss, just as we are.

One of the sweetest things was received just one week later. In the original picture at the top of the blog, Josh's arm had a small bruise on it. Someone who actually did not know Josh very well, retouched the photo to remove the bruise and emailed it back. This was placed on the blog immediately - I will never forget that small act of kindness.

When the girl's lacrosse teams from the two schools met for the first time after his passing, hair ribbons for both teams with Josh's initials were made by the Langley girls and given out. Our hearts were moved when we heard this story and received the photos.

On the Mother’s Day post I had shared how a couple of Josh's teammates had come over for a BBQ lunch and talk. Since then we have had several others visit with us and a couple of them have gone to Josh's grave site with me. I have also received fairly lengthy emails from friends at both schools. I cannot tell you how much it means to me to be in touch with Josh's friends either by visit, via email or posts on the blog. For some reason, it matters very much to me that Josh is not forgotten. Their stories and memories of Josh are ones that I cherish and are giving us a picture of our son that we would not know of otherwise. They are asking me very good questions, are willing to answer mine and I am finding it helpful as they share their own perspective of Josh's death and how they are handling it.

Our family has been thrust on this journey of grief, not by our own choice but by that of our son. Why we got here will never be understood, but one day will need to be accepted. I am finding solace that we are not alone in this journey as evidenced by this post.

To all of Josh's friends who continue to think of him and our family, our heartfelt thanks.

God Bless

4 Months Later - July 18, 2009

I begin this post with two distinct thoughts that are related; the first, I can't believe that it has been four months since our beloved son has passed away and second, I am having a hard believing that Josh is really gone. My head know what our reality is now, but my heart is having a very hard time accepting it.

One would think that I should have moved on from the "denial" stage of the grieving process with the many reminders that happen, even on a daily basis. Within the past week, we've received several sympathy cards, letting us know that we are still in our friend's thoughts and prayers. Another day brought a package with a book on grieving from a thoughtful friend who lost her young son a few years ago.

It hits me when I come across items that have dates just prior to the fateful day of March 18th. An example would be finding a work-related email that I sent on March 17th. My first thought is, "Wow, when I sent this email, Josh was still alive and I had no idea that it would be my last day with him." My second thought is, "How can this be?" with tears.

I teach several indoor cycle classes at two gyms and in order to keep my music straight, I have a notecard for each playlist with the date/place of the class so that I don't inadvertently use the same songs in a short time period. I have come across one such card that references Sunday, March 15th and Monday, March 16th. I know that those two days, I played that play list in separate classes, completely oblivious to the fact that my world would be changed forever by Wednesday morning. And I think, "Is this really me?"

When I am out running errands at the grocery story, or the mall and see a group of boys, roughly Josh's age (17 - 18 yrs old), my breath catches, my throat constricts and tears come to my eyes as I understand that it is no use looking for his face in the crowd since he will absent from such groups forever.

I am being brutally honest with this next example, so please forgive me. When in NYC last month, riding the train, I saw a boy whose age was probably seventeen or eighteen sitting across the aisle. It was clear that he was emotionally and intellectually challenged and in an instant, I saw his life. If he went to a public high school where looks, talent, academic or athletic ability is paramount, this kid probably did not have many friends. Maybe he was ridiculed and/or bullied. At the very least, he might live so far in the background that he didn't register on most kid's social radar screen. Did he ever experience the heady feeling of a young girl's attention? I doubt it. Was he invited to parties and other social gatherings? Probably not. Did he have a loving and accepting family - I sincerely hoped so.

Sitting on the train, thinking about this kid and our son, and as I type my recollections now, my brow furrows in complete incomprehension. I don't how our son who had the looks, the girlfriend, the popularity, the intelligence, and the natural athletic ability could end his life when this kid, who on the surface had none of those things, was still alive.

This kid did not find his life so unbearable that he would end it himself. He still had some reasons to live - perhaps many reasons. Whatever obstacles were in his way, he was moving through them, or living through them. He was not experiencing such excruciating mental anguish that he would cross over to that place in the mind which would allow self-murder.

All of these thoughts running through my mind then/now and I end up at the same place - this is so unfair. Not that I wish circumstances to be reversed where his mother was the one grieving, and not me....it is more like if this kid could still be alive, why couldn't our Josh find a way to live too? He seemingly had so much more - why wasn't it enough? It is still so incomprehensible to me and therefore unbelievable.

We went to the fundraiser at the Buffalo Wings Factory for lunch and ate with two of Josh's friends. They both have been so good about keeping in touch with us; in fact, one of them had come over last week with another friend, just to hang out and talk. Apparently on the way home, these two boys talked about how sad and depressing it was for weeks after his death. Now, however, when they think about Josh, it is the happy memories that occupy their thoughts. I am glad it is this way for them and hopefully for all of Josh's other friends, but I cannot relate.

I think I will get there too but it is not that way for me now. Still, when I think of his death, I am overcome with sorrow, pain and anguish. It is still so hard for me and the tears can flow easily and freely - at any time, day or night, when I am by myself or with others.

One of the most difficult pictures to look at - of the many that are around our house now - is the one taken a few days before Christmas, the one sent out with our annual letter. I can remember that day so clearly. We have a tradition of wearing shirts of the school of choice for our newest college attendee. Gillian had decided to attend the University of Virginia so we were all wearing our UVA gear. It took a while to figure out what everyone was wearing and of course, there were issues with Josh's shirt. It was either too small or the wrong color and he had to wear another one. It was a chilly day and we were all outside waiting for him to come. Finally he did, we took a great picture and that was that.



Now I look at this picture on my fridge and think, "who would've thought at the time, that we only had another two months and three weeks with him." And once again, I can't believe it.

Yet, I have only to look at his empty room, or vacant place at the dinner table, or now, the new license plates on our cars to know that it is true - our beloved Josh is no longer here.




Please continue to keep the Anderson family in your thoughts and prayers.
God Bless.

Pictures of Joshua: Birth to 4 Years Old

As mentioned in a previous post, I have begun the formidable task of scanning all of my negatives into our computer. Had I known from the outset just what kind of project this was, I might have been discouraged from even starting. Just in case there are others who having been meaning to digitize their photos, I though it might be helpful to outline what we have done. Certainly, if there is a better way, please feel free to share.

First of all, at least for me, nothing is ever easy if it has to do with technology. I am using a Mac mini purchased about 2 1/2 years ago, which in Mac years is a long time. So much so, we had to first load a more recent operating system to be able to handle the upgraded iPhoto software which I wanted to use. So with the help of Gillian and her friend, this was accomplished. The only other thing, so I thought, was to find a good scanner that would do the job. This did not turn out to be that hard to do via some research on the Internet and the cost was actually pretty reasonable.

It seemed like everything was falling into place, until it was discovered that the Mac had only 60 GB of total storage space so by the time we were finished with the steps above, there was only 3 GB left, which was not going to be enough space for all of the photos that would be scanned. So after many conversations with our oldest son, off I went to Best Buy to purchase an external hard drive that would house all the new photos. The choice was a bit overwhelming but in the end, I picked one that had 500 GB of storage space and is about the size of my hand - amazing.

Finally, after many hours one weekend, I was all set up. And amazingly enough, it was pretty easy to use, albeit time consuming as each negative takes about a minute to scan and the film holder, for lack of better word, can hold 12 negatives at a time. It's times like these that being a multi-tasker comes in handy as I am finding ways to get other things done while scanning.

At this point, it feels like an accomplishment to say that I have scanned in five years so far, beginning with the year that Josh was born. I am finding this exercise helpful to me as I am reminded of the time when he came into our lives - a surprise baby - and the way he completed our family.

Oh, how I wish he were still here with us.



Josh, we love and miss you so much.

39 Book Reviews - updated 5/15/2011

As mentioned in other posts, I've been doing some reading to help me cope with Josh's sudden death (still so hard to type these words). I must confess that my memory is not that great - and Josh would've been the first to say so. Therefore, in an effort to help me remember what I've read as well as when I've read it, I've decided to keep a reading list and book review on the blog. I plan to update it as books are read or re-read.
The books that I am reading first have one thing in common - they are all written by SOS or "survivors of suicide". This term certainly applies to family members, but I would say that anyone who has known and loved Josh as a friend could also relate to the feelings that are described in these books.
It is heart-breaking to read about their loved one's suicide and the subsequent painful journey of grief and survival, while knowing that I have my own such road to travel. In the book that I am currently reading, "Grieving A Suicide: A Loved One's Search for Comfort, Answers and Hope", Albert Hsu describes what it is like to be part of this group. His father committed suicide nine months after his wedding.

Suicide bisects your life with a thick dark line. Everything is divided into "before" and "after". Against our will, those of us who have experienced the suicide of a loved one have become part of a unique grieving community. Our particular kind of grief is incomprehensible to many, since death by suicide is radically different from death by car accident, heart attack or old age. It is a society that no one wants to be a part of, one that we wish we had not been initiated into (page 20).

I have a habit of reading with a pen and when there is something that really hits home or I need to ponder further, I underline and/or write in the margins. Most of the books below have writing in many of the pages as I can relate to almost everything that is read - the initial feelings of shock, disbelief, and numbness. Followed by the unending quest to understand why - coupled by the sorrow and despair, guilt, regret, and feelings of being a failure as a parent.
Each author has put pen to paper in hopes of helping others. It is a brave thing to do as they've had to re-live the nightmare in order to accurately describe what occured. Just as it has been more difficult for me to go to Josh's grave site these days as it is a stark reminder of our horrible reality, so it is sometime difficult to write on this blog. It forces me to think about how I am feeling, which has the affect of making the dull, background pain come to the forefront and become acute, raw and overwhelming. Many tissues are used with each post.
Although difficult, I have to believe that facing the pain and sorrow is better for me than to bury it or not let myself feel it. I have also heard that what I am writing is helping others - this encourages me to continue........

No Time To Say Goodbye: Surviving The Suicide of a Loved One by Carla Fine
The first book that I read which was within the first 2-3 weeks after Josh's death. My emotions were extremely raw, but I found this book to be exactly what I needed. I was the one who found our son, so her detailed description of what she found with her husband did not shock me, nor did the details of survivor stories that were gathered from her interviews. These accounts might be too much for others - so beware. I skimmed through it again recently and am writing some notes in my journal. This is definitely one that I will re-read as I journey through my own grief.

My Son....My Son: A Guide To Healing After Death, Loss or Suicide by Iris Bolton
Second book read after Josh's death - also within the first three weeks. I read this in one night - lots of pages earmarked and many sentences underlined. I have gone back, almost 4 months later and journaled through the book. These survivor books will have to be re-read as time passes. These authors are speaking and writing after they have come through on the other side of the grieving process, whereas I feel as though I've just begun.

Take The Dimness Of My Soul Away: Healing After a Loved One's Suicide by William RitterThird book read - These are 5 sermons given over a period of 5 years from a minster who lost his son to suicide. I will need to re-read as time passes. What he says after 1 year is not something I can relate to very well right now.

When Suicide Comes Home: A Father's Diary and Comments by Paul Cox (no book photo)
Fourth book that I have read after Josh's death. I could relate to almost every feeling this father had as he journaled his way through the tragedy of his son's death, who was in his early 20's. From the book, the father had a very close relationship with his son; they had common interests and seemed to spend a lot of quality time together. His son had admitted having suicidal thoughts at the time of his high school graduation and as his father's request, saw a counselor for a year. He seemed better so his visits stopped. I will keep this book on hand as I go through my journey.

Grieving The Unexpected: The Suicide of a Son by Dr. Gary LeBlanc
Fifth book read about 3 months after Josh's death. I could relate to the father/author in several ways. He is the one who found his son and they had absolutely no idea that his son was contemplating suicide. This book was written three-and-a-half years after his son's death and after going over everything in his mind in the months/days prior to his son's death, the author could still come up with nothing. No signs, no warnings. This is one of the hardest things to deal with. As a result, the author's feelings, questions, heartache, grief and pain are what I can relate to the most. As opposed to the other books (Bolton, Fine and Cox) that were written on the other side of the grieving process, this author appeared to still be wrestling with his son's death. This is not surprising as three-and-a-half years is not a long time. This book is also written from the view of how his faith has been challenged and strengthened through this time which has been helpful to read.

The Pact by Jodi Picoult (fiction)
My first Jodi Picoult book read, although I've seen her books everywhere - even more so, with the release of the movie "My Sister's Keeper", based on one of her books. The reason I picked this up was because of the subject matter - teenage suicide pact. With the unexpected and sudden death of our 17 year old son by suicide, a little over three months ago, I am obsessed with trying to understand why, although intellectually I know the answer is unobtainable. Although being fiction, the characters give a realistic view of where the mind of teenagers can go. A few pages give a glimpse of how a teen could get the point of completing suicide.

"She was well and neatly trapped, with only one small and hidden exit, so dark and buried that most people never even considered breaching its hatch.....there were really no options at all" (pg 206). "I don't want to be here....I don't want to be" (pg.274). "She didn't feel frightened. Now that she'd found a way out, even the thought of dying didn't scare her. She just wanted to end it before other people she loved were hurt as badly as she was" (pg. 325). "In that moment, with the night shrinking around them.....there was no alternative" (pg. 372).

In our case, how does a well-liked, athletic, smart young man take his own life? I think this question may haunt me for the rest of my life. The book offers some possibilities that I will have to ponder.

Grieving a Suicide: A Loved One's Search for Comfort, Answers & Hope by Albert Hsu
Sixth book read after our son's suicide - over four months later. So many thoughts, feelings, struggles, questions that were shared by the author resonated with me. Due to all of the marks in the book, I have a feeling it will take a while to journal through this one. This author writes from a Christian perspective - which was very helpful.


Writing through the Darkness: Easing Your Depression with Paper and Pen by Elizabeth Schaefer.Just "happened" to pick this up in a small bookstore in Vermont. What a gem. Especially the bibliography and resource list in the back. I read this in two days and ordered another 7 books. While I do not have the daily struggles of the author, I do feel like life is dark and grey since Josh has left us. So it has helped.
Lament For A Son by Nicholas Wolterstorff
Written by a father grieving the loss of his twenty-five year old son from a mountain climbing accident. He writes what I feel and has been quoted in my recent posts. The last third of his book chronicles the struggle in reconciling his son's death with his faith. I have made a note to read this section when ready to ask myself the same questions. Would highly recommend.

Those They Left Behind: Interviews, Stories, Essays and Poems by Survivors of Suicide. By Karen Mueller Bryson, Ph. D.
The interviews with survivors of suicide are divided by the relationship with the victim: parents, children, siblings, extended family and friends. Reading the book is like being at a support group where each person shares their story of loss. My focus was on the ten parents who courageously bared their hearts and soul. I could relate to many if not all of their feelings. It helps to know that we are not alone.

The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold (fiction)
I read this book a while ago and remember thinking, "interesting story." Re-reading after our son's death - wow, totally different experience. I found myself thinking and wondering what heaven or the afterlife is like for our boy....can he see us? Know what we are doing/feeling? Can he see how much he was loved - by so many? Made me want to read Sebold's memoir, Lucky, which I did in one night. Powerful memoir. Would highly recommend both books.

Aftershock: Help, Hope and Healing in the Wake of Suicide by David Cox and Candy Arrington
Read this short book in one night. Author's father committed suicide when he was only nine years old. He compares suicide with an earthquake through out the book and I agree. A very personal account of a boy's nearly successful suicide when he was a junior in high school, written in his words was most helpful to me. Up until this point, I had not read anything that gave a glimpse of where the mind of a teenage boy could go in attempting suicide. It gave me a lot to think about.

Surviving Suicide: Help to Heal Your Heart, Life Stories from Those Left Behind by Heather Hays.
A compilation of stories from survivors - broken down by relation to the loved one. So sad as some of them wrote more than one as several of their loved ones took their lives. Personally, I do not think I could survive another suicide in my family. The format is very personal - an introduction to the victim and circumstances around the suicide and then a letter to the loved one. I read the stories from the parents who lost a child and could relate to almost everything. Again, like being in a su...more A compilation of stories from survivors - broken down by relation to the loved one. So sad as some of them had to write more than one since several of their loved ones took their lives. Personally, I do not think I could survive another suicide in my family. The format is very personal - an introduction to the victim and circumstances around the suicide and then a letter to their loved one. I read the stories from the parents who lost a child and could relate to almost every thought and feeling. Again, like being in a support group without having to attend.


The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger Excellent book. I saw the movie first, otherwise I would have probably been quite confused while reading. Since Josh has passed away, I read everything from a different perspective and this book was no exception. We say that "hindsight is 20/20", meaning that if we knew what would happen, we would do things differently. But this story makes me wonder if that is really true? Even if I did know that Josh was going to take his life a little over 6 months ago, could I have changed events to prevent what happened? I used to think so which caused a tremendous amount of angst and guilt. Now, I really do wonder.

Paula and The Sum of Our Days by Isabel Allende (memoirs)
A well-written two part memoir by an author I have not read before. Her young married daughter, Paula, contracts a disease that puts her first into a coma, then a vegetative state, and ultimately results in her death. Isabel spends a whole year completely devoted to her daughter's care, hoping that she will recover. During this heart-wrenching time, she deals with her pain and sorrow by writing - about how she feels, about their family history - like a letter to her daughter. Paula is a very poignant memoir written by a grieving mother. The next book is written fifteen years later and it is clear this author/mother still grieves for her child. I like her writing style and look forward to reading her novels.

Dying To Be Free: A Healing Guide for Families after a Suicide by Beverly Cobain and Jean Larch
A short book, but very powerful. Statistics on prevalence of suicide and yet the difficulty in predicting and preventing. Formula for suicide: "psychache" + thought of death as an escape. I found the chapter called "The Fatal Journey" especially helpful in my attempt to understand why Josh made his decision seven months ago. A couple of chapters are devoted to the grieving process of survivors and some helpful thoughts on how to cope. A chapter called "Staying Alive" is relevant for those who know someone who is suicidal or struggles with suicide. The last chapter recounts stories of the connection between survivor and loved one who died.

Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within by Natalie GoldbergI really, really liked this book. Her metaphors and stories are very encouraging to just take pen to paper and write, write, write. She espouses writing practice as a way to learn how to write from the depths of one's soul, to become centered - forgetting all the "rules" of writing, such as punctuation and spelling. Basically, let it all hang out. Very motivating. I am eager to read other books by her.



Journal to the Self: Twenty-two paths to personal growth by Kathleen Adams and The New Diary by Tristine Rainer
Two excellent reference books for those who are brand new to journaling and those who are looking for new ideas. They both speak to the modes of diary expression: catharsis, description, free intuitive writing and reflection. The use of dialogue, lists, portraits, unsent letters, varied perspectives and other techniques in writing are described in detail. Motivating and encouraging as well.

The Empty Chair by Beryl Glover
A short book which can easily be read in one sitting. I found it useful in a supplemental way.




The Suicide Index by Joan Wickersham
This author explores unanswered questions regarding her father's suicide fifteen years after the fact in this riveting memoir. Although my loss is not the same, I can relate to the suppositions, questions, "what if's" and "I wonders". I'd like to read other writer's journeys through grief and loss. It helps.

Ordinary People by Judith Guest (fiction)
Tragic accident in a family is used to reveal how varied grief responses can be, the effect on one another, and the struggle to heal and survive. One son dies by accident, the other feels so guilty, he attempts suicide. As a result, he spends a good amount of time in a psychiatric hospital. The book begins after he comes home. It is a well written book that I would highly recommend, as well as the movie.
By Their Own Young Hand: Deliberate Self-Harm and Suicidal Ideas in Adolescents by Keith Hawton and Karen Rodham
Researchers in England were able to give a survey to over 5,000 teenagers (15-16 years old) that asked questions about deliberate self-harm thoughts and actions. As a parent who is looking for answers as to why our 17 year old son took this life, this book was helpful. I wrote a post on the things learned from
this book.
Hold Tight by Harlan Coben (fiction)
Very quick read. Meaningful references: parents raising teens, to spy or not to spy on them, secrets, teen suicide, and grief. Although I don't feel this way, I found the mother's description of their house after her son had been found dead by suicide, haunting. "The house was dead. That was how Betsy Hill would describe it. Dead. It wasn't merely quiet or still. The house was hollow, gone, deceased - its heart stopped beating, the blood had stopped flowing, the innards had begun to decay. Dead. Dead as a doornail, whatever the hell that meant. Dead as her son, Spencer."

The Worst Loss: How Families Heal from the Death of a Child by Barbara Rosof
Grieving is hard work - unavoidable. For parents: take care of yourself, give yourself time, reach out to others. Timetable varies but generally will take four years before life feels like it is on track. Meaningful references: impact on family as a whole, parents, siblings (based on age), rough timetable, tasks to work through while grieving, specific chapters dealing with various types of death (stillbirths/infant deaths, terminal illness, accidents, murders, suicides).


Beach Music by Pat Conroy (fiction)
Main character's wife committed suicide. He flees with his young daughter to Italy but eventually returns to his hometown in South Carolina. I picked this book up because of the suicide theme. The author does not go into much detail regarding the mind of the wife, which is what I was hoping for. 

After The Death of A Child: Living With Loss Through the Years by Ann Finkbeiner The author lost her only child, an 18 year old son via a train wreck. She wanted to know what happens to parents in the years after losing their child - what are the long term effects. Bottom line - while the pain of losing the child may recede over time, parents never, ever get over the loss. They only learn to live with it. Always there. Has become a part of who they are. This makes sense to me. 


Life After the Death of My Son: What I'm Learning by Dennis Apple
The author's nineteen year old son was an otherwise healthy young college student. He died unexpectedly from complications due to mono, in the middle of the night, at home, on the family room couch. His father found him the next morning after taking his younger son to school. Seventeen years later, he wrote this book. While a quick read, this book was helpful to me as noted in a recent post called "Grief Journey - How Long?"

Legend of a Suicide by David Vann (fiction)
I picked this book up while browsing through a bookstore as naturally, the title caught my attention. It is a collection of short stories of which the longest, is so unexpected and disturbing, it is difficult to recommend. The author's explanation is in the back: "My father killed himself when I was thirteen, and for three years afterward, I told everyone he had died of cancer, because the way he killed himself felt too shameful. And I also didn't quite believe in his death. So this book is as true an account as I could write of my father's suicide and my own bereavement, and that was possible only through fiction."
The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides (fiction)
Very disturbing story about five sisters who commit suicide within one year. I picked up this book in the hope of learning about the suicidal mindset of young people, which was not a focus for the author. Fiction is an easier way for me to look at this topic, but leaves me thirsting for more. It is a dilemma as I can't bring myself to open non-fiction books that sit on my shelves, such as No One Saw My Pain: Why Teens Kill Themselves. A bit too much right now.

The Bell Jar by Sylvia Platt (fiction)
A classic novel based on the author's life, who does end up committing suicide at age 30. In the book a young college student, Esther, struggles with feeling inadequate which fuels insecurity, leading to depression and an obsession with suicide. She has no fear of death, but her attempts are unsuccessful, landing her in an asylum for a period of time. It is a story of a rational mind's descent into the irrational. I have dog-earred a number of pages, wondering if Josh felt, by even the smallest measure, the same as this poor girl.
After Suicide by John Hewett
This book was listed in the bibliography of Hsu's book. I read this short book in less than one hour and did not find anything new. Also, this was not written by a suicide survivor, which is now an important factor to me. It is difficult to write about coping with suicide if one has not lived it.

An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness by Kay Redfield Jamison
It is amazing what this author has accomplished in spite of her constant battle with manic-depression or bi-polar disorder. She is a Professor of Psychiatry at the Johns Hopkins University and has made her illness the focus of her academic research and writing. I knew she had attempted suicide, which is the main reason for reading the book. Her mindset at the time was irrationally rational, an oxymoron, I know. "I was doing the only fair thing for the people I cared about; it was the only sensible thing to do for myself. One would put an animal to death for far less suffering."
Twenty Wishes by Debbie Macomber
I recently bought a Nook, an e-book reader from Barnes and Noble. Each Friday, B&N offers a free book. One such book was the first in a series by this author; about a knitting shop on Blossom Street. This book is the 4th in the series and addresses the topic of grief, from four women who have lost their husbands. These women decide to write a list of "twenty wishes" as a way of moving forward with their lives. Examples are buying red cowboy boots, learning how to belly dance, going skinny dipping, going to Paris with a loved one, dancing barefoot in the rain. I spent some time the other night writing down my own list and came up with 25 wishes - a good sign, I think.
The Almost Moon by Alice Sebold
This book begins with death, has flashbacks of death in the middle and ends with a near death. Various modes of death are used by the author: murder, accident and suicide. The latter, of course, is what interests me. As a result, this book is heavily dog-earred, written in and passages are quoted in my journal with thoughts.

The Grieving Garden: Living With the Death of A Child by Suzanne Redfern and Susan Gilbert

22 parents have lost their children by various means and at different ages. They responded to questions from the authors and this book is the result. It is like having a parent support group on hand at any time it is needed. It took me a while to get through the first half, but once focused, I read through the last half within a couple of days. Very helpful so I would recommend to any parent who has suffered the worst loss imaginable - the death of their child.

Beyond Tears: Living After Losing A Child by Ellen Mitchell

Nine mothers found each other and formed their own support group after losing their children, all young adults from 16 - 24 years old. This book is about their journey. I can relate to so many of their feelings. This book gave me the idea to write on a white balloon and send it up to Josh on New Year's Eve.

Every Last One by Anna Quindlen
This is a story of a typical working mom whose life if her family.  She struggles with wanting to be close to her three teenage children who are simultaneously wanting their independence, a marriage that is ok, not great, and a secret she has chosen to forget.  Then "IT" happens and this woman struggles with just surviving.  I can relate to a number of quotes from the book.  A full review is on my reading blog.


I am now maintaining a full list on my reading blog.