Your room…..
Your safe spot….
That room was your’s for the past 5 years.
You moved into that room a very depressed 13 year old.
Over the next five years it would become a safe spot, a
healing spot.
The place NO ONE could enter without stressing you.
The place we heard you laughing and laughing with Andrew,
Desi and Ryan.
As your laughter carried down the stairs, visitors would
think you had someone up there.
No, just your online friends…..
Flick, flick, flick…. As you opened and closed your knife as
you played and talked to your friends.
That certain squeak I still wish I could hear as you opened
your door to yell, “mom” every single time.
“Oh, hi Dad. Where’s mom?” “Want to go get some ice cream?” “Mom,
what’s for dinner?”
The floor I laid down in to comfort you when you were having
an episode. The safe place you could go to and cry, laugh, and play.
Not even letting Sadie step foot into your room. Many times
I caught you lying in the doorway holding Sadie because she was scared of the
weather.
The room you didn’t want touched when you moved to your own
apartment. The room you came back to and took a nap because you said you slept better
in the Big House.
The special furniture your dad made for you. The furniture
you helped your dad make when we lived in Dayton.
Remember how proud you were? That smile….. The first time you walked into your room and Daddy had it all set up!
Now, your room is almost bare. I am so happy we can let
someone else use your furniture.
I had to leave as they moved it out. Your dad was at work.
We couldn’t see it taken out of your room. Something about it leaving the room,
your space….. It was your’s.
You would be very happy to know that it is being used by
your best friends as they move to a new apartment.
Our hope for joy, just as you had using that made out of love furniture
Your toothbrush will just have to stay for now….
Thank you room…..
*sigh* and big hugs. Thank you for continuing to share your Joshua heart with us. Love you.
ReplyDeleteI lost a Joshua also: our only son. He lived at home and felt safe, but there came a time when he needed to have his own place. He moved to a room in a house with 3-4 other young people living there. He committed suicide there with alcohol and prescription drugs. He left me a voice mail saying, "I didn't tell you enough how much I love you. I'm killing myself now." His room here is still his room; not the furniture, but we call it "Josh's room." I read Option B by Sheryl Sandbert and it helped. Ultimately, I have to realize that I am now a different person. A part of me is with Josh; no one knows what to say, or not say. Some family and friends are disappearing, and that's fine. Love to you and all of us walking this path we never wanted to walk. I just follow behind Jesus and wonder why I am here and my beloved is there.
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