I am lonely for Josiah.
I missed him as the days grew longer.
I missed him on the days leading up to Mother's Day.
He loved being outdoors in Alaska. In years' past while Carrie worked on Saturdays, he would bring Livie out. She and the girls would bake, play or talk...and Josiah would jump in with whatever yard thing Michael or I were doing. I missed him when the mowers began to give me fits! ::grin::
Memorial Day weekend would find him at Carrie's family's Lakehouse; he loved it up there. It signals the start of summer - for real. This year Carrie, the girls and Erik prepared for the lake and my heart knew Josiah wasn't here. Even though this wasn't something *I* did with him, it made me think of him.
Here we are at another season's start and we're still achingly lonely for Josiah's laugh, his voice, his smile, his hugs. My doctor told me 6 months ago what I was feeling was depression and not grief. She suggested meds. My counselor assured me it was grief, and I seem to have an o.k. handle on depression. We talked about when meds would be called for and the fact that the sun was just starting to come back, and that to me I didn't seem STUCK in the grief. He felt it was healthy for me to experience the emotions rather than worry there were too many. We determined I was o.k.
In any event, this week when I saw my doc she opened with, "I have a friend who lost her son 20 years ago. She told me she is still grieving." I think she may have been considering her comment to me, we had a fairly good discussion over the fact people say things like, "The trial will give you closure," or "The sentencing will give you closure." I told her I have no clue what "closure" looks like for the loss of an adult son. She considered her sons and agreed. I suspect "closure" is the wrong term for what we'll experience. Peace - YES. Hope - OH YES. Closure - not so much.
It was a bright day. I had a flag I wanted to put at the cemetery...because flags are a great summer decoration. I was crying and talking to Jesus on the drive to the cemetery. I asked Jesus if he could give me just one memory of Josiah to make me smile, rather than cry. I walked up and placed the puny flag (gotta get the bigger size) and noted the new dandelions at the top of his marker.
Instantly I saw my little towhead with the big green eyes running toward me with a handful of dandelions at the start of spring.
"Flowers, Mama," and I smiled.
I sat by the grave and noted the hill was dotted with dandelions which weren't here last week. Those spring and summer bouquets of dandelions became one of my favorite rituals of motherhood. I have a little vase I save for dandelions the kids would bring me. As each one slowly grew out of dandelion bouquets, there was a younger sibling to bring me more....all through the 80's, 90's and into the 2000's. I was SO frustrated in 2015 when Grandma Mary informed Stacia dandelions were weeds and she didn't want the bouquet Stacia had picked. Stacia quit bringing ME bouquets too. It was the end of an age.
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