Sixteen, Married and Pregnant

In order to honor Joshua, we tell it like is. We tell it like it was. It’s not always popular, but hey Suicide is not fun. I’ve shared about the night Joshua died, the way he died, the friends he had when he died. I’ve been as honest as I can about his life and yet the story that I have not told is how I first heard that he existed and the very first time I heard that I was having a baby.

 

 

My high school was in Dublin N.H. It was a Christian boarding school and I was the proverbial bad girl who needed some major GOD and straightening up. It was located on a manor in a remote are of NH on rolling hills. I hated it. There were more things you could not do than things you could. I was rebellious and it was constraining with very real Baptist principals. Yes they even had a rule that you had to sit or stand a foot away from a boy….No joke.

 

From time to time I would come home to Gloucester to visit my family. I was the oldest of four sisters and brothers that I had helped raise and I enjoyed coming home. I also had a boyfriend back home and that is all I will say about that. One day on a weekend visit in Gloucester I was at home with my mom complaining about stomach cramps and feeling sick. I did not think anything of it, as a 16 year old girl. Mom then suggested that I had to get back to school and I should leave a urine sample home with her. I thought nothing of it.

 

A few days later I sat in Bible class with Mr. Diff and suddenly felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the headmaster. Not a man I ever wanted to tussle with. I turned in shock as he told me to get my belongings and follow him. I walked behind him, trying to make as little noise as possible as he led me through the kitchen, past the dining hall and up the stairs to his office. In his office sat a large desk, several leather chairs and my mother and father. With somber looking faces, it took but a few seconds for my mom to blurt out “you’re pregnant”. Funny I must have been so naïve I never once gave that any thought until that moment. The possibility, the idea never once crossed my mind.

 

I got married to Joshua’s father at the age of 16 and Joshua came into this world just a few short months later.

 

Happy Birthday My Sweet Boy!

Mommy Loves You

Fear of Falling

My bedroom sits in the tree-tops overlooking the ocean and Rockport’s majestic coastline. Not a single day goes by that you would not find me, coffee in hand, taking in the view either from my desk picture window or my deck. Some days  the squirrels arrive for my viewing pleasure and chase each other, jumping and frolicking from tree to tree. They really do seem to fly. Other days it is the view of the breakwater and little sailboats that catch my attention. My mind often wonders what it would be like to stand out on the unfinished breakwater in the middle of the ocean and be sprayed by the white foam of the waves as they crash on the stones.  I then remember my unreasonable fear of sharks from the movie Jaws when I was five and my mind rushes back to the safety of my desk. Just yesterday it was a simple trio of finches on a tree branch, one a red head and the two others a simple brown. I sat as still as possible on my deck as they sang away. I gave them a terrific applause as they ended their song. I wonder what might have made them so happy? Could it possibly be the simple fact that one male was entertaining two females. On any given day I would much rather sit and look out my large picture window than waste my brain on what's  downstairs on the flat screen tv.


Today my pleasure was a hawk.  I caught sight of him off in the distance almost immediately as I sat down. He was so far off that at first I was not certain if he was an airplane. To my delight he moved closer and closer in circles until he reached just above my window. The details of his body became clearer and his immense wingspan looked as if it might be as tall as myself if I laid on the floor. His brown feathers were strung together and between them the glimmer of sunshine came through. It took me almost five minutes leaning forward and enjoying this summer show, before I realized that not once at any time did he flap his wings. All of this movement, this soaring, diving and circling was done simply with the wind and his unique knowledge of how air works. He expended no energy on his peaceful flight and seemed to have no cares as he rested on the breeze with the pale blue sky as his backdrop. Did he know I was sitting here, thankful for this moment to watch this dance between he and the invisible energy source holding him up? With that his last circle was followed by a sharp banking left and he was gone from my view.



Now I am sitting here, still at my desk feeling jealous. Jealous of a beautiful bird and the peace and tranquility he showed me. The trust he has, the oneness with nature. There was a time before Joshua died where I was more free and trusting too. Where leaping without looking often worked in my favor and if it didn’t then there was a valuable lesson to learn from. Fear of losing loved ones had not become such a big part of my world. Fun was not for special occasions. I did not spend so much time thinking of how I do not seem to fit in, given that everthing in life has such deep meaning. Practical was not me by definition. I often wonder what I am waiting for? Am I so worried that another thing is going to come that knocks me down so hard. Am I so determined to be ready and on guard that I have turned into the watcher instead of living life. Joshua knew how much I loved airplanes when he was alive. He would often come and sit at the airport and watch the planes fly in and out and he accompanied me on several flights by friends who had planes. He knew how daring I was and how adventurous and he would certainly......


 WANT ME TO SOAR!
xoxo Joshua's Mom

So Close and Yet So Far

This morning I sit here wishing to be closer to those who have lost a loved one to suicide. To put you all in a room and send a loud message of our pain to the heavens, but we are scattered all around. What we do to try to prevent more loss is often alone, or with people who can help but don’t really understand. This morning’s coffee was not full of its usually cream and sugar, but equally filled up by salty tears as I read through yet another email from someone who has found Joshua’s story. Each word a gift from another angel trying to understand why this world can be so cruel. As I read about her loneliness and her desire to help her boyfriend’s mom, I felt far away, as if she was a long lost family member. The word sister survivor has become dear to me and I would much love to surround myself with all of you all of the days of my life. What you know is what I know. What you feel is what I feel. Your love for every remaining second of life! Your nausea as people complains about the mundane going on around you. You are my sisters and brothers, you are my family and without you I might not have survived.

My goal is to figure out how we might unite? How we might take our individual strength and share it with the new comers, who can’t see the light, can’t even see the tunnel. A grand Care Bear Stare to light up even the bleakest of days.  Ideas welcome as each of you from all across the globe realize how close we really are.

Today, my friend you are on my heart as is his mom! I wish, like I always do that you were in my kitchen, sharing a cup of coffee and seeing from my own life that you WILL make it through this and if you let it…this will change you from who you are to who you are meant to be. I promise.

Xoxoxoxo

Joshua’s Mommy

Expect The Unexpected

Expect The Unexpected

Sometimes it seems that the harder we push, the less things get done. When faced with something we are passionate about, that resistance can be hard to feel and harder to swallow. After Joshua died, my heart for children grew. There is no place more important than school. Maybe that is because Joshua might have been able to go and talk with someone about being bullied, if someone was there to listen. Just listen. An office with a door open and a kind persons face ready to talk. Someone who could point them in the right direction or make them feel validated. In Townsend at our previous school system, my passion was embraced. They called on me numerous times to help in bullying situations and even asked that I come and address the teachers with Joshua’s story. It was hard, but it felt right. There was no shortness of tears as my daughter Danielle and I teamed up to give the presentation. I showed them a boy I a trench coat with a bowler hat. A boy who wanted to be different in order to live the life of the kids who were different, a boy who was taking up a cross for others. I then read the police report of the boy who was called “faggit”, the boy who ended his life hanging by a rafter.

Rockport is beautiful. It has beautiful people. It has wonderful families. It’s a small town. It also has children, children who cut like Joshua did. Children who need help for pain that is inside of them. One day I found that alongside its lunch,gym,classes and nurse it needs to provide mental health help. It like many schools is suffering with an increase of anxieties, cutting and behavioral issues and it needs to be pro-active. One day my daughter just needed someone to talk to in the high school. She wandered unsure of where to go and ended up in the wrong place and we found there was truly no place to go. Upon my numerous questions I got no answers. There are no answers. Where does a child go that needs mental help that needs to talk if they have a bad day? The question continued to bug me.

In my frustration for schools all over the country and my questions as to why kids can spend that many hours a day at a place with no answer for how they feel, I emailed our congressman a letter and begged for help. Our school like many wants to do more, but seems unable due to a lack of funding and someone to lead the way. I gave details of my life and showed my heart for the issue to Congressman Tierney's office.  Amazingly Congressman  Tierneys office called back and assured me they feel strongly on this issue. That Mr. Tierney has sisters who are teachers and knows this frustration. I was pleased as they put me in touch with some funding and programs, in Gloucester. But that was not the end of the story. Not by a long shot.

This morning at breakfast with a dear friend the conversation went like this:

(she) “well aren’t we excited about the meeting our daughters are at right now?”

(me) “I’m ashamed to say I am not sure what you mean!”

(she) “well a few months ago Annabelle and Katrina wrote a letter with school to Congressman Tierney about bullying and strangely enough Congressman Tierneys office called last week and want to come out to Rockport.” “Right now the girls are with the principal preparing their questions”.

My jaw dropped as I told her that I had no idea my daughter Annabelle had done that and Annabelle had no idea that I had just done the same thing and had been on the phone with the Congressman's office. I got goosebumps as I told her. We sat with our hands over out mouths afraid out tongues might drop out. “When did they call” I asked. “Last Week” she said. That was about a week after my call I told her.

The reality that my daughter Annabelle and I had been traveling on a parallel track and we had no idea knocked me over and I almost cried. Congressman Tierney will be coming to Rockport soon, and it was not me who did it…it was US. It was those of us who chose to speak up. It was the voices of children!

I struggled after my letter and conversation, feeling like I'd almost hit a dead end. I now understand that I was just part of a bigger picture that needed to play out. I might not have made changes, but I listened to my inner voice and was part of a bigger effort. Please stay tuned as this story continues to work it's way through the lives of many.

~Joshua’s Mom

and sister….

FOR JUST ONE NIGHT

I know it’s hard. I know you’ve been left on the side of the road with your heart bandaged wandering. I know that the thought of loving that deeply again is the worst kind of fear. I know this day brings with it heartache for it’s buried in the deepest places of heart. I know you’ve hid your love away and I know that trusting another soul not to leave you makes you want to run far away and hide. But he is there. He was there before you lost your child and he is there now. He’s been waiting. Just because he wants to love you and see your love does not mean he has not been hurting too. He is in that pain as well. He needs the connection with you so badly in order to trust love as well.

Tonight, when the world is full of hearts. When tables are cluttered with hands held, kisses and glasses of wine. I urge you, my dear angel mom to take a risk on him and on yourself. For just a small moment when he looks at you, look back. Let him see that you see him and not just the pain. Your grief will not go far, it will be right there when you are ready. But on this Valentines night,  he has been waiting for the woman he loves to come back. It’s ok. It’s even ok to feel good about yourself. It’s ok. You might even find that the man sitting across from you so patiently, can help!

When you look back at the times you were crawling on the floor in pain, the days you gouged yourself to feel anything but numb, the nights you slept at the cemetery. Who was at home worried? Who followed you? Who? Who loves you?

Tonight as I have for many nights, I will put on my pretty dress and heals and tell my son that for a few hours I am going to live the way he taught me. Strong, with passion, deeply and I am going to figure out how to trust once again that this love will not leave me like he did.

To my angel moms!!!

Happy Valentines Day <3

From The Mouths Of Babes

April 10th 1991.


As anyone who works in a school knows, a teacher is at a distinct disadvantage when laryngitis strikes. And it was my turn to be so afflicted. So, as I approached our preschooler's door behind which wiggled ten sweet, busy munchkins with short attention spans, I sent up a quick prayer for help. Entering the room I croaked a greeting and immediately had everyone's attention. So, I settled into a low chair and explained that I would need them to be very quiet at story time and sing their best at song time. They all rose to the occasion and I was pleased to see them so enthusiastic about helping me. As we finished little Joshua, who had been singing with a serious face and furrowed brow, looked up at me and with as much fatherly tone as he could muster said, "Miss Valerie,Just go A-HM-M-M-M-M-M!". Laughing inside with delight at his compassionate remedy for my problem, I thanked him.


Even though  my voice would not improve for several more days, I left that day with a song in my heart. Aren't three-year-olds wonderful?

Written by Valerie Sadler


I found this story tucked in a sympathy card and forgot about it, as I forgot many things right after Joshua's death. I came across it again and it brought me such a chuckle and happy tears. The woman who wrote this was a very special teacher, she had a heart full of love and Joshua adored her. We don't always think of teachers as making such an impression or taking such care of our children, but they do.

~Joshua's Mom

Christmas Shopping For My Angel

There’s one little boy left on my list
All the others are done and I’ve wrapped all their gifts


He’s 15 years old and I have no idea
The things he would use or the clothes he would wear


My pace is much slower than those in the mall
And thank God they don’t see my tears as they fall



Memories flood  back to the fun that we had
And I choose some magic cards and a soft felt like hat


T-shirts with sayings and famous peoples names
Were one of his favorites, I smile as I pay


Ma’am may I help you a clerk kindly asks
But she’d never understand this heavenly task


I’m shopping for an angel I thought I might say
As I wipe a tear from my cheek and quietly walk away


As I sit on a bench and sift through the gifts
I can’t help but remember the smile on his lips


The boy who brought the best out of Christmas for me
As he bolted toward the presents under the tree


I sat for a few and searched the many faces
And wondered if anyone else was here shopping for angels


Then I picked up my bag and headed for the door
And did what  I’d done for five years before


I carefully headed to the corner of the lot
And placed my sons gifts in the donation box

I stopped and envisioned a boy of fifteen
Waking in the morning and opening these


For a moment  I stood  my heart broke once again
And screamed to the night MERRY CHRISTMAS MY SON.

Written by ~Joshua's Mom for her baby boy. <3

MY CHRISTMAS WISH

Santa all I wish for
As I wake on Christmas morn
Is you’ll make a stop in heaven
And bring home my first-born

I have no use for presents
I’ve little care for things
But what I’d give my life for
Is my boy who now has wings

I’ll give back all the trinkets
You brought since I was small
If you’d please just grant this one wish
It’s the wish I wish of all

Santa, stop in heaven
It’s right along the way
As you fly through the heavens
With your reindeer in your sleigh

I know my son is waiting
I’m on his wish list too
And so please make both our wishes
This Christmas Year come true.


~By Joshua's Mom

Life Is A Highway and I am always both coming and going.....

I often walk the black edge. The fringes of this world, the places most people don’t often even know exist. They stand out once in a while as people walk through life in times where goosebumps, dejavu and panic show their faces. I stare at this life both as a lurker and a participant. Every moment of every day is sliced down the middle with the icy cold edge of fear and the hot sweat of enjoyment. He did this. He made tears come even during laughter as if there is no end to the pain even in the good times. The water does not meet the land, it rages amongst it allowing me to get my footing whilst the waves crash around me, knocking me down. I see from the angles of both life and death. I see opposites as if they are both pure truth. Prospective is the robe I wear. The bridge is both beautiful and an arch to cover water, just as it may quickly be an answer to my pain. The light is both refreshing and painful all captured inside one prism. Running is exuberant and yet I am weary. All good, all bad, all black and all white.






One fateful day, June 3rd 2005 all of what was good and bad in life collided inside of me. Joshua both took a life and gave a life. I am forever thankful and in angst at the same time.

Every day, every moment, everything is true.



To those who struggle with the thoughts of taking your life, please remember that you will take more than just your own. You will sentence many more to death here on earth! No more person can that be more true for than your family!

The Road Less Travelled

The Road Less Travelled
by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;


Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,


And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.


I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–
I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference





As a girl I loved this poem. During my years in NH I often found myself at the Robert Frost Farm in Derry NH staring at the two paths and wishing I were that person who bravely took The Road Less Traveled. To put off the things of the world like money, popularity, and selfishness and find those things, which are less, focused on. Yesterday I finally found myself faced with that choice and thanks to Joshua It was the only road I could travel. The only road my soul would let me attend.


As many of you know it was time for me to go back to work. The girls are grown (well ok 13 and 15) and I need to do something outside of the home to contribute financially and more so find out who I am again after Joshua’s suicide. For the past 6 years it has been all that all the time. Having decided it was time; I sent my resume out to two different job types. The first being the corporate jobs that I used to have before Joshua. Appraisal Management type jobs. The second set was to non-profits and places that give back to society. The first resume I sent out was to ProTeck in Waltham and they called me within five minutes. This job was identical to my previous job, which I did for over 7 years. It was a perfect fit. Right? For the past week I had a knot In my stomach but I kept telling myself I would get used to it. Something inside me just did not feel right about taking this job. Something did not feel like I was honoring my struggle. I moved forward anyway and yesterday went into ProTeck for my first day. As I sat and trained with a very nice girl, I noticed that people did not speak as they passed by. They did not smile or act friendly. Hmmm I thought why do I care? I then noticed that as I sat and learned, I had a feeling of dread. This was not for me. They would do everything I requested. Odd hours to work around traffic send my home with a set-up to work from home when I chose. A Perfect Fit that did not feel perfect at all. What was wrong with me? Am I spoiled? How is a job that fits my skill set so well, not for me?  I did not complete that day and as I drove home feeling broken and dissapointed in myself, Life Is A Highway came on the radio.


Today I feel calm and centered. I am not beating myself up anymore. I have talked to some wise people who knew this was not the place for me. Who saw this not lining up with my trauma and the new me! What happened? Why am I so broken, why does this puzzle piece not seem to fit anywhere anymore. It is like I have to work so hard to fit in now socially, with family and even in business. It’s clunky and not natural. I am outside looking in. Joshua happened. He took everything I thought to have value and turned it upside down. He showed me that love, kindness, charity and purpose are a necessity and he made my soul align with that path. I have always taught my kids that if you feel different, if you don’t fit in then you are probably doing something right. Now I understand what that means and what it feels like. It’s not simple. It’s not easy.


What I want and need is people! At the end of the day, I would rather deliver flowers and see a smile than sit in a cubical spinning thread into gold. I want to help and I want to say at the end of my life that I made a difference in peoples lives. I am certain you cannot take it with you! I want to fight for the lives of teens that are hurting; I want to help them become what they never thought they could. I don’t want to fit in ever again.

<3 Joshua's Mom <3

GOD

You might recall, Dear Lord that I loved you once. You might remember this child of 5 turning to you when my own father gave me no shelter from the storms all around. I was the little red head with pigtails in Sunday school. The one who was so excited to have learned the song Jesus Loves Me. The girl who proudly sang it, knowing that you would take care of each of your little sheep and bring them back to the flock with gentle kindness. It is I that child of yours, the one you took into your arms and promised eternal life forever.




The years have passed haven’t they? The violent savage attack on my being in 2005 when Joshua hung himself has left me but a shell of that trusting child. My hope for eternal life has come crashing down around me and fear and rage have replaced any song in my heart for you. For years I moved back and forth between blaming you for taking him and the easier place of you not ever having existed. I hoped I had made you up, for that would be easier to bare than what you have allowed. The truth is that somewhere in the blackness of the driveway that night, up on hearing the news I knew it was you. I felt his body and his spirit travel through my body as you extracted him from my life.



The bleeding might have stopped. I am not sure. Sometimes a wound seems to re-open but the pouring of blood from my veins has stopped. The distance between you and I has begun to shorten and I have slowly entertained the thought of you again as my father. This morning I woke hoping I could make my way to church again. The first such thought of wanting to understand you and allow you again. But what will you take, what could loving you again open me up for? I have other sweet children that are mine and you cannot have them. How dare you?!



Jesus Loves Me

This I Know

For The Bible Tells Me So.



I know you have him and I want him back.



~Joshua’s Mom

SUDDENLY SAN FRANCISCO

Tootsie Roll

Mixed Candy

Odd isn’t it how something can seem monument us and with one word of encouragement from someone, it was only but a grain of sand. My grain of sand is San Francisco California. I remember feeling like I was on such a run, first the 18 mile Overnight Walk in Boston from Dusk Till Dawn, Next it was NY 18 miles again overnight and then they announced San Francisco. I remember feeling like I was asked to step outside of something I was so passionate about. I felt left out and tried not to think about it. All of these people would be filling the streets without me. Why was that such a big deal? Well I suppose party because this walk, the volunteers and the other walkers lifted me from the fog and showed me that I could still be a mom to Joshua. That I had a purpose and it was not sobbing in my pajama gram pajama’s the rest of my life. I will never forget being surrounded by so many families sobbing in Boston as we begun to walk. The feeling of loneliness disappeared. We knew each other and we knew that the distance was not going to be nearly as painful as what our sweet children suffered, and the blisters were going to be wonderfully painful in honor of their wounds. So back to San Francisco! The other day I was at a party and an old friend asked about the walk and I mentioned I could not attend, that it would cost too much to get there, but I was ok with it (I really wasn’t). He just sort of looked at me with disbelief and said that it seemed it would not be difficult with all the amazing people who support me and who donate to the AFSP. His prospective enlightened me and opened up the realization that hey maybe I will be able to raise the $1,000 to walk and enough to travel. WoW I felt as if a door was opened. I am now working hard to get behind the possibility of going to SF in June 2012 and doing it all over again….I get excited just thinking about it. How could I have thought I would not go?



So as I plan to fundraise, I have decided that the Christmas Wreaths we do as a family (for a good cause) each year, will be the first in my fundraising efforts. They have always been very popular and the orders pour in. So for everyone who wants a gorgeous yummy treat AND help support the fight against bullying and prevention of suicide I am taking orders and have already gotten 2 stores who want to sell these. With your help, I can go to San Francisco and carry your loved ones with me…..



Email me if your interested in a wreath….I will have a brochure up and pricing…



Thank You,

~Joshua’s Mom



Mndypool@gmail.com          Click Brochure to enlarge....

Live Like Im Dying

All my life I loved the sky. The clouds, the stars the world up above the earth. It all felt closer to God. I spent many days just sitting at the Beverly Airport watching the planes take off and land. Often making my way up in the air when some nice pilot saw me sitting in my car. I am usually the silly girl with her head back looking up into the sky, almost falling over, when an airplane goes by. It’s just me.




Joshua’s death had me dormant for so long, of all the loves in my life. That today when I saw a Groupon on a skydive…I knew I had to buy it. I felt instant exhilaration for being up in the heavens again and I know Joshua would have loved to jump out of a plane with me. We joked about it. I am an angel mom, what better to fly?



For so many years I have watched life go by while I waited to see Josh again. This week, this day, and this year I am going to start making my way closer to him by living the life I have dreamed of. No more waiting on him. No more wondering if God might be merciful enough to take me on any given day. It sounds strange to call it a bucket list. There has to be a better name for it. I will come up with one.



I plan to wear a Life Is A Highway T-shirt on all my endeavors in honor of Joshua. To tell him about my plans and my excitement and bring him with me on all the journeys I take. I wonder if this is part of acceptance.



~Joshua’s Mom

After a while, you learn the subtle difference,



Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,


And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning,


And company doesn’t mean security,


And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts,


And presents aren’t promises,


And you begin to accept you defeats,


With your head up and your eyes open,


With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,


And you learn to build all your roads on today,


Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans,


And futures have a way of falling down mid-flight,


After a while, you learn,


That even the sunshine burns if you get too much,


So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,


Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers,


And you learn that you really can endure…


That you really are strong,


And that you really do have worth,


And you learn and learn…






With every goodbye you learn.






~Veronica A Shoffstall

Give Me an A

I arrived as usual to the place he is resting in peace. Instead of kneeling and kissing the beautiful likeness etched on his stone, I stopped and sat on the cool black granite bench that marks this tiny place my heart calls home. The bench’s coolness reminded me that September was here and soon I would not be able to sit and enjoy the sunshine, as winter moves in. This day was different. Not only were my actions different but also something felt lacking, missing even. I looked around the plot taking a mental note of all the items that have been placed here since 2005. One bowler hat, needing to be replaced after a summers worth of weather, check. Several vases, one filled with red roses trimmed with vibrant orange, check. A mother tree proudly wearing a sign around it’s trunk entitled The Joshua Tree, check. A large shell left here by my sister so that Joshua could be reminded of the ocean, check. Many tiny knick-knacks by people, who loved this boy almost as much as I, check. A tiny bird housed hand painted by a wonderful girl who struggles with the thoughts of taking her own life, a precious soul, check. 22 tiny glass beads, one for every year of his life, check. It all seemed the same and yet it wasn’t. I felt almost empty, but peaceful as well.




“Joshua”, I said, “Do you know why I do not talk to you?” There was no answer. I continued, “Because if I talk to you, that that means I believe you are in heaven and if I believe you are in heaven than I believe there is a God”. I almost did not know what I was saying but I continued. “And if I believe there is a God, than I have had my heart broken by the heavenly father I adored since I was a child”. Here I was of course telling Joshua why I don’t talk to him, whilst talking to him. It got quiet again. The breeze now felt different, real. The wind on my face felt like mercy and it was vibrant. The birds squawking no longer bothered me. The grass looked greener, the ocean looked more blue. “Leave it now”. “It’s time to move”. “It’s time to leave it”. Over and over I heard. I had no idea what I was leaving, but I knew I had to stand and I knew I had to walk away without it.



I stood from the bench, leaned over to kiss Joshua’s stone and slowly walked away. In an instance it left me. I felt light headed. Free. Sad and scared as if I left something behind that I had carried with me constantly. The letter A made a vivid image in my mind and I looked back as my sanctuary was further behind me, hoping to see what it was. I walked as this A continued to place itself in my mind and upon arriving at the car I realized that finally, finally in all these years I had just felt acceptance. ACCEPTANCE. It was like walking into the light after carrying around so much anger. It was like knowing he is ok. It was also like losing an arm. The guilt was frightening as I tried to allow myself the peace that tried to come with it.



Sometimes things that hurt us, are what we need and when we no longer need them they are very hard to detach from. I have felt this before in relationships with people that were unhealthy for me. I never expected to feel it this day. In the car on the way home I told Joshua over and over that I was not leaving him and that I was not ok with what he did. I also told him I cannot continue to fight against it, when it is done and he is gone.



Like every one of the stages, each has been precisely as described. Denial, Anger, Bargaining , Depression and yes Acceptance. They take time. They weave in and out of each other; they are not easy or kind. They can ravage your mind and body. They are a war and yet they are intended for a great purpose. They will enlighten you if you let them. They will draw you closer to life and death if you allow. They take time. They are pure and often not well defined as the creep into each other. They need to be. Acceptance will not be the end; it will just be a new beginning. It is the only stage I had never felt before.



Thank You Joshua.



Mommy Loves You. <3

Happy 22nd Birthday

I woke up this day 22 years ago in horrible pain. I was only sixteen and had no idea what was really happening to my body. I made my way out of bed at 4:30 am and rested by belly against the back of our horrendous orange lounge chair. I then called to your father who was getting ready for work that it was time to go to the hospital and have our baby. You. You and I had already spent so much time getting to know each other. I sang to you, rocked you to sleep in my belly every night and counted each day until you came. You were already my son. My body LOVED being pregnant. Even though it was only the body of a little girl.



Your birth was not easy. You took much longer to arrive than either you or I expected. You were born with a collapsed lung and they rushed you off before I could hold you. All I saw were two black feet passing by my face. Nobody explained anything to me. You weren’t breathing. The next morning I climbed from my bed, drugged from pain killers and made my way down the hall to see my mother sitting proudly in a rocking chair holding you. You were born on her birthday. Her birthday present. I stood. Thinking that of all the people to be sitting there, it would be her. She was simply an extension of my love for you. From that day on she and I would raise you together. You were so loved. Each year more than the one before it. You were happy! Do you remember?



Today it is raining and feels like a cool September day. Only the lump in my throat challenges the pain in my chest. I am alone, though many try to help and sooth me. As much as I gave birth to you on September 6 1989, you were taken back through my body on June 3rd 2005. Both of these leave me physically broken and emotionally unable to cope with every day things in life.



I miss you. I miss you with all my heart and all my soul. There seems to be no end to the things you never got to do and to the things I never got to say to you. I am so sorry for your pain and that you could not find another way out. I would give anything to have you come home.



Happy Birthday To You

Happy Birthday To you

Happy Birthday Dear Joshua

Happy Birthday To You……



Love Mommy

47 Nottingham Rd. Raymond NH.

Remember Happy?




This summer has been another “season” for hurdles Joshua’s death has left behind. One of the biggest was Pawtuckaway State Park in Nottingham NH. Our family went every year when he was little and I had not been back since Joshua’s death. To top that hurdle off, an even greater one awaited me in order to get to Pawtuckaway. You see on the way is a house. A sweet beautiful house, set back behind a pond aptly named Hop Frog Pond. That house is where Joshua spent his best years. It is in Raymond NH.



As I took exit number 5 off 101 it all came crashing back to me. The familiar gas station, the Wal mart distribution center, the road with the McDonald’s and the meat market I used to get everything for the family bbq’s. “I’ll have a double cheeseburger and a coke” sounded into my head in Joshua’s voice. Ouch this was going to be harder than I thought. Hannaford was still up on the hill. It was my weekly grocery shop in the days when I resided here. Could I do it? I walked through the grocery store sobbing so I guess the answer was no. Pushing the carriage with Joshua no longer riding the front. Passing the bakery and no longer grabbing him a cookie. Each of his favorite foods, the book section. Nothing. People stared as I passed sobbing like a child. I finally made it to the parking lot exhausted, throwing things into the car for camping and left my purse. All in all OUCH.



The house was next. I slowed down as I got onto Nottingham Rd. Oh how I loved this large beautiful house. It was my pride and joy. I had 4 kids a dog and pristine white rugs always. The daffodils were my favorite; they covered the beautifully landscaped front lawn that I took such care to garden. Even topiary bushes were not to much for this novice. I was in love. As I got to the top of the hill, the house sat just the same. Maybe a tad more yellow than the salmon color it was. I gasped for breath sitting on the side of the road, sobbing and wishing I could go in. The mailbox read 47. I could see Joshua’s bedroom from road. I imagined him in his bed with the fan on his face reading Harry Potter. I imagined us all inside. I hummed a few bars of “The House That Made Me” and imagined knocking on the door to ask if I might come in and sit a while in his room. “Mommy” my teenage daughter sitting next to me having equally as hard a time said “I will buy this for you someday I promise”, “I will get this house back for you”. Thank you I whispered. "I know you will". I remembered burying Prince in the woods in the back yard thinking we would stay here forever. I never thought I would have to burry my son as well. He would have like to be buried near his companian Bella.



Next onto the rolling hills of Nottingham and the state park. From the parking lot, to the campsites to the water spickets it was all the same. We set up the tent and I forced myself to stop having the pictures race through my head of Joshua climbing between the trees as if he were Spiderman. I had to keep slapping myself to make certain this family, now, these kids, my husband had a good time camping.



Joshua you would be so proud of me.

~Joshua’s Mom

Our Deepest Gratitude

The only people with whom you should try to get even are those who have helped you. ~John E. Southard

On behalf of the friends and family of Joshua Amaral, Steve Woodard and Peter Matt Burns we would like to thank all the amazing companies that donated to help in the fight against bullying, depression and suicide. We were nothing short of amazed at the support and donations we received from the generous companies we contacted. Thank you also to Jalapenos for making our fundraising night fun and memorable and for all those who came. Each one of you made it possible for us to walk in the Out Of The Darkness Walk and with help from The American Foundation of Suicide Prevention, we all saved lives. The following companies honored our journey:


Vermont Teddy Bear,

Alchemy Restaurant,

Meineke,

Linden Tree Inn,

Dogeared Jewelry,

The Lobster Pool,

Seaward Inn Rockport,

Avanti Hair Salon,

Friendly’s,

The Causeway Restaurant,

Cape Ann Marina,

The Farm Restaurant,

Gracie Cakes in Salem,

Plum Cove Grind,

The Landing Restaurant Marblehead,

Bertucci's,

Cape Ann Whale Watch,

Divine Day Spa,

Groupon,

Hannaford Supermarkets,

Nor' East Cleaners,

Sunbanque,

Pilot House Restaurant,

Harbor Light Inn Marblehead,

Cash donation from Annabelle Harling,

Dog Bar Restaurant,

Latitude 43,

Yankee Smokehouse,

Espresso Restaurant,

The Westin Hotel in Boston,

The Westin Hotel in Times Square Ny

Cash Donations from Freedom Market, Freedom N.H

Cake Pops by Jackie Burns




A special thank you to the amazing staff at Grill 23 and The Lenox Hotel in Boston for not only donating but for making life a much better place. Also to our friends and family on Life Is A Highway on Facebook and to everyone who donated and bought a calendar.



Each of you made a difference!



Warmest Thanks!

Team Life Is A Highway

~Joshua’s Mom

TIME WON'T STAND STILL....

Wait a minute. Just please stop.


I can’t bare another moment

From that ticking on the clock.

I can’t hold another flower

Or taste another spring

In this endless painful thing



I have longed to hear your sweetness

I’d give it all to touch your face

I can’t bare to let a moment

Get away,, I cant replace







I have lost so many moments

Taken by the breeze

I scream to get them back

I beg that they might freeze



I have only what I remember

Only what I can recall

If these seconds continue passing

I might just lose it all



Please stop for just a minute

While I try to catch my breath

While I try to get a handle

On this pain that is called death.



I saved you in my pages

I saved you in my dreams

I saved you in my journals

I saved your little things



I am losing you, slowly.

Your memory starts to fade

I cant seem to hold onto

The past  we had made



No matter how I try

I cant stop the hands of time

They taunt and tease my tears

And remove what once was mine.





Please just for a moment

Give me back my son

Give me back our dreams

And the life that had just begun.

~Written and Lived by Joshua's Mom <3

The HeartBreak Of May

It’s amazing how much my son struggled with Suicide. In reading his journals he was so sick of the constant nagging to end his life. Today, I understood. I felt tossed about by the darkest wind and yet my heart felt as if I carried around a rock in my chest and a lump in my throat all day. I am exhausted of constantly feeling like I forgot something and then remembering what it is I am missing. I am so tired of waking up each morning having to convince myself that today is not the day and that I can do this, that I am strong. He must have been exhausted as well. Broken, beaten and with no hope.


May creeps into my soul with it’s bird nests, daffodils and fresh spring air and makes me want to run. Some days my skin even feels as if it’s to heavy for my body. I’ve no safe place to rest no hiding place where nobody can find me. I have to walk around hoping I make it through yet another May and another June 3rd. I cry at the drop of a hat. It’s always waiting for some reminder or someone to hurt me. It’s irrational. I bleed out.

Today took it’s toll. It was like I was having labor pains, but I knew they would never stop. My body ached for my son again and I felt such a strong desire to be with him. I remembered him in his casket with his blue dress shirt and grey turtleneck in the middle of June so the scars on his neck would not show. I could almost hear the faint echo of the word “mommy” in the distance if I tried hard enough. I remembered his Sesame Street books and the hours we spent learning and laughing.

I feel as if someone is ripping out my heart. This hurts so badly. When will I ever get a moments peace from this? WHEN?