Life Books

Joshua’s death does indeed have silver linings whether I like to believe it or not. One of these is what is left for his sisters Danielle and Annabelle.




It seems I would do my son a huge disservice if not to learn from every aspect of his being gone. As I wildly pour over journals I have kept since he was a baby, I have become irritated with myself at how much I blabbered on about failed marriages, weight gain and people in general. The top portion, usually a paragraph is dedicated to the kids and then on and on with things that do not matter. The gold is the moments I wrote about his first steps, his favorite foods, and the way he was growing into a young man. Oh how I wish I had sat and written about him for hours on end.



Lesson…..Each moment is precious and you can not get it back. But you certainly can paint it’s picture with words.



Action:

A few weeks ago I went to the bookstore and bought two journals. Each of them represent my daughters ages 14 and 12. One is black and has rainbows on it, perfect for a teen and the other birds perfect for the girl who loves nature and just made her mommy a bird feeder. I then divided them into sections, past, present and future and began to record. Past was fun as I took boxes and boxes of journals and dumped them on the floor in front of the fire. Oh the things they said and did as babies.  It was a daunting task to sift through all of my drama and get to the best of it all. The present is for the things I see and hear now. The favorite games and activities and the many questions they ask me about growing up and the future is about things I hope for them and things I think they will need to know. How gorgeous they are inside and out, how to be mindful of the virtues as they travel through the harder times …I then add recipes and things of myself so they can remember me God forbid I am gone.



Joshua Stephen Amaral, it might be too late for you. But it is not to late for us. Thank you for showing me how to honor you in every conversation, every relationship and every moment of my life.



~Your Mommy

The Book Arrived

It was two days ago now and I was headed down the driveway to pick the girls up from school. I noticed a large manila envelope on the outside of my mailbox. I sat for a few moments looking through the car window uncertain if I should retrieve it. About a week ago I sent a request to the Wolfeboro police dept for my son’s entire file including photos taken at the scene. I pondered it for a while and then made my way over to the mailbox, convincing myself I did not have to open it any time soon. As I approached I noticed that the sender was Simon and Schuster. I tore off the elastic that held it to the red flag on the mailbox and ran to the car. Could this be the Chicken Soup Book I wondered? Indeed it was. I tore off the top to open the envelope and gently reached my hand into the package. It was in those few moments, as I pulled the book from it’s wrapping that it left the spiritual world, the emotional world and became physical. Somehow I was holding a small piece of my son. The front cover was a tree, much like the Joshua tree. And it was much like my life, dark on one side and bright and healthy on the other. Tears fled from my eyes and dropped onto the cover as I feverishly wiped them off. What if my story isn’t really in here, It wondered. Fear came over me and I slowly, without bending the book sifted through the stories in the front for his name. I did not see us. They would not have sent the book if we were not here. I looked again, and finally saw his name. Joshua. My baby boy was in here. Forever. More tears came as I read the story of my son and the cemetery. Of the tree that has taken such good care of us. That afternoon I held onto the book all day. I lay- in bed sobbing, clutching the book and moving in and out of the tangible world this book had created for me. For a while I felt as if I had my son back.



Annabelle my twelve-year-old daughter who was so pivotal in my sending that particular story krept in, as I lay peacefully in bed still holding  the book. She walked softly towards the side of my bed. Looked down at the book and me with pride on her face. “Mommy, this is wonderful, but I am starting to get concerned”. And there it was. The little tiny angel who wanted to make certain I did not allow myself to linger to long in the place she has seen me go far too often. I smiled at her, gave her a wink and laughed an unexpected laugh. She brought me back to reality, made me see that I was not clutching Joshua, but more his memory. Thank God for that jolt. I have no idea how long I would have stayed in that place. Many times I have wondered how much sooner I would have gotten back into reality, how many less years I might have stayed in bed if my daughters were at home nudging me to get better instead of sent away and kept away from me.



Blessings,

Joshua’s Mom