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