Six for Six

Six yea​rs later . . .

I pen the words imagining they appear like an opening caption to a movie sequel or the return of a favorite tv show. 

It has been six years, since I said the long goodbye to Josh. Even as his presence lingers like a ghost at times, I notably feel his absence in my everyday life. There are still moments when I would love to talk about a significant event happening and get his perspective. The sorrow doesn’t grip my heart quite as intensely as it did six years ago, or even five. I can’t fully say it has lessened each year, but it has toned down generally. This year, I find myself reimagining what I would do with one more day with him. 

Working on staff at a grief center, this year especially, has also heightened the conversations around me about grief and given me a new type of permission to talk through the layers that linger within anyone’s grief narrative. We talk about our people — living and dead. It’s refreshing. Maybe that sounds weird to say but I think so often in our culture, we skip over talking about people who are no longer here. Maybe it’s uncomfortable, maybe it’s just still so sad. I think honestly, it sometimes just feels easier to do ANYTHING else instead of looking that grief monster right in the eye. 

I recently watched the season finale of a show called “The Bear” which is riddled with themes of grief. The last episode of season 4 had me crying as it so fiercely tackled the topic – and all the things we hold inside trying to avoid truly facing it or talking about it. (Warning, there is a lot of language in the show and that episode, so it might not be for everyone)

Part of the tears came because of the timing of the year, but I also found myself caught up in how the characters addressed the heaviness and intensity that is grief. The journey impacts us all uniquely. As I take this September 30 day off work and sit outside a quiet cabin surrounded by birds, chattering chipmunks, and scurring squirrels, I know my friends and family are each navigating this day differently. 

Grief is hard because the significant days (birthday, death day, anniversary, etc.) are so unique and personal. It’s easier to remember or recognize a birthday (thank you social media) but a death day (which is also significant) can slip past without recognition for many. Yet, it is very memorable (and emotionally hard) to those who faced it head on.

There is a poem called, “The Dash” that references the time between our birth date and death date as our dash. Interestingly it was written the same year Josh graduated high school. In overview, it encourages readers to live, love and maximize our time between the two dates – our dash. While I agree with this sentiment, I know the markers of each beginning and end are also important to note.

With all this in mind, I thought on this sixth anniversary, it would be fitting to share six things I wish everyone (including my newer friends who never met him) knew about Josh’s dash of life.  

1. Josh loved a good story - telling it, watching it in a show or movie, or hearing it in a song.
2. Josh loved to laugh and enjoyed a good level of sarcasm.
3. Josh sincerely believed and trusted in Christ and loved the Church. He understood and believed in the good it could be when operating well, and was often frustrated when it didn’t.
4. Josh only had one lung (due to the 8 lb cancerous tumor being removed when he was 15 years old).
5. Josh loved the KC Royals, European Soccer and the Chiefs (probably in that order)
6. Josh loved his family and friends, this includes me, who he loved to his very core (and we in turn loved him greatly too).

Narrowing this list down to six was a challenge as there is so much more to any person, especially Josh, but at first pass these are the key things I’d want people to know about my beloved on this sixth anniversary.

Side note: Thank you to many who follow our story still today and who have told me so. It’s an honor to share my grief journey and to share about Josh and our life together.