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