Losing Joe — Thinking. Remembering. Missing.

Chapter 12

Today is June 20, 2021, and it’s 2:14 am. I’m now wide awake, again.

Thinking. Remembering. Missing.

Just a few minutes ago, I thought of Joseph’s Celebration of Life, so many people. People I had never met, people who loved my son enough, stopped a day in their busy lives to pay their respect to Joe one last time. I remember turning my head for a glance behind me; I could hear the quiet tears. It was like seeing the horizon on the ocean; it was endless. My mind was moving so fast; I felt like it would burst at any moment. I wish I would have had the courage to stand up there and share my heart about Joe. However, I remember barely having the strength to stand on my own two feet; my husband held me up the entire time. Missing my son, the day was June 9, 2018, and it had only been 12 days since his final day here with us, living and breathing.

It’s 2:25 am. I’m thinking of the notes and words on all the cards I had given Joe. Letters I had written years ago; surprisingly, he kept them all as I learned while looking through his shoebox of papers. His receipts, unopened mail, doodling notes, a resume, my letters and cards, his signature on various documents, and an assortment of paper proving his life existed. Sometimes, I look thru the pockets of his jeans or t-shirts, button-up…