Reflection 2025: Joshua’s Essence
by Kristan Rojas
Though it has been over 20 years since I last held my son’s hand, heard his giggle, or witnessed his sweet smile, Joshua remains with me in countless ways. I know this may sound crazy to someone who is not grieving, so I keep this to myself quite a bit. However, many of you who are traveling this grief journey, may understand me.
You see, I fully realize that I have physically lost my son. It grieves me deeply that I can no longer touch him, hear him, smell him, or witness him enjoying life or attaining his goals and dreams. It devastates me that Joshua never graduated high school or college, and he never found his chosen career. Also, I still find it agonizingly bittersweet to witness his cousins and friends now getting married, having families, and enjoying life, because Joshua simply cannot. And my dream of someday becoming a grandmother? Sadly, that will probably never become a reality for me.
So, I would be remiss if I did not share that there are still great waves of sadness... even now.
However, I continue to firmly hold Joshua’s essence extremely close to me.
What is the essence of Josh?
He is my inner moral compass, even now.
He is the voice in my head when I am questioning which way to go.
He is the finder of lost keys when I ask for his help in locating them.
He is the welcoming spirit at Heaven’s Gate for his four grandparents and, sadly, now several of his friends.
He is the shadow by my side when I walk in the sun.
And he is my comfort when I am weary, scared, or cold.
I believe he places people in my path that need me and many that I need, as well.
His name is included on greeting cards, in passwords, and in our tattoos.
His sweet, loving spirit is who I turned to when I prayed for his sister’s complete return to health, following her recent illness.
I believe he asked the hummingbird to visit her hospital window following her surgery on the 6th day of June. (You see, Josh’s jersey number was 6 so I was comforted by believing that he was somehow nearby).
He is my first thought each morning and my final “goodnight”.
He is the sweet smell in the air, when I am standing by the ocean.
I believe he sent the clouds shaped like angel’s wings when I was grieving for my mom.
He is my inspiration and why I am a much better parent to his sister now.
His cartoons and drawings remain displayed in our home.
His trombone is now a floor lamp that lights up the corner of our living room.
I believe he instilled in me the quiet knowing that I will see him again and I do not fear THAT time when it arrives.
So, you see, his essence remains nearby in countless ways. After 20+ years, on most days, yes, most days... his essence is ALMOST enough.
Tonight, go home, sit in the quiet and think about how your precious one’s essence still surrounds you. I think you will be amazed just how closely they remain by you.