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

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

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

NEVER

Have you seen my son? I cannot find him. I looked to the trees where I last knew he was and could not see him there. I climbed to the top and looked to the skies and they were void of a child, my child.




I thought I might retrace his steps the last day I knew of him. The places he went, the people he saw and even the things he had to eat, but many of these places are locked away from me. So I could not find him there.



I did indeed talk to those he loved. There are three I know. They come to see me, and they come to sit while with him. There stories bring me closer, but as quickly as my heart recalls my baby boy, the story ends and I am lost again.



I sit all day long with his body a body that by now must be fading into the ground. We talk. I talk mostly. I supposed maybe he’d like to talk but cant. I rock back and forth like I did all the days of his life and I can almost hear him say “mommy”. He only called me mommy, not mom, not mother. Mommy!



I sing him the songs we sang. But the little noises he used to make as he tried to mimic me are gone in the wind.



I barter with God a God who turned his back on me. I beg him and plead with him for just one more moment with my son. But he never even acknowledges me. I pledge myself to him; I barter and beg with anyone who might help me. Nothing happens.



I write until I cannot write anymore, until the words fall of the edges of the page and until my hands and my heart are to fatigue to continue. I write to him, about him, I write my pain and my joy. I write my devotion.



I cannot find him in anything that might linger and make me feel better. I will never hear him speak or sing again, I will never feel his arms around me again, I will never place my hands in his long curly black hair or hold him again. NEVER. My heart does not accept this and my mind understands it all to well.



NEVER AGAIN.