By Kristan Rojas
This year I thought I would write about what my days look like as a grieving person. Something tells me, they may resemble many of your days, as well.
I have been grieving for my Joshua for almost twice as long as he lived. Yet the memories I have of him while he was physically here with me are still very clear in my mind.
On my good days, I can still see him in my mind’s eye. I remember his blinding smile, his beautiful face, and his unconditional love. Joshua was my kindest person. In my entire life, no one has actively shown their love for me, more than my little boy did while he was here. I often say, “Joshua loved us so well, we can still feel it.”
On my struggle days, I crave the smell of his hair, the warmth of his little hand in mine, and all the dreams I had for his future. On those days, I function and manage until I can safely return home to find physical comfort in the familiar and rest in the peace around me.
On my average days, I have a “knowing” inside of my heart. I somehow know that Joshua pops in to say hello every now and then. I somehow know that he is proud of his sister, his father, and he is proud of me. I somehow know that it is his voice in my mind, reminding me where my lost keys are and to not forget to get milk, eggs and bread on the way home. I also somehow know that he orchestrated the playing of that certain song on the car radio.
On the birthdays, holidays, and anniversaries, I find that I am extremely vulnerable and tender. The overwhelming number of emotions rise again to just below the surface of my façade. I somehow always find ways to endure and, more recently, even quietly embrace these days. But I am weary and drained for a few days following them.
My very best days include my amazing daughter, my devoted husband, and Joshua’s beautiful spirit. Whenever we get the chance to be together again, I truly feel that Joshua is pleased. Pat and I always feel closer to him when we are physically close to her. The closest thing to happiness this side of Heaven, is when we are with our beloved Katrina.
My very worst day occurred when Joshua was 10. I do not know how I continued to survive after that day. But I believe Joshua’s spirit had something to do with my survival and the survival of our family unit. We knew that he wanted us to love and care for his sister. We knew that he wanted us to forgive any past conflicts and embrace what we still have. We knew that to find solace and comfort, we must learn to forgive ourselves and focus on what is still here.
The 19+ years since Joshua died have been filled with moments of agony, grace, and wisdom. We wish we never had to learn these life lessons due to the physical loss of our son. But we are so very glad that Josh’s 10 years on earth were with us. He is ours and we will forever be his.
No matter what kind of day tomorrow is for you, please know that you are not alone. All of us here have good days, struggle days, average days, special days, and worst days. All of us have a beloved one that watches over from above, pops in to say hello, helps us find lost items, and shows us the way back to them... when it’s time.