Wisdom Seeds (23 page)

“Mom!” He tried to sound offended.

“Boy, let's go eat.”

As soon as Josh left the room, I took out the last letter Jason wrote me. It never occurred to me that one day Josh would ask to read the letters. On top of everything else, that was a skeleton that needed to stay in the closet.

Mom busied herself cooking all day Saturday. The family hadn't gathered in fifteen years and she was really looking forward to Sunday. Josh volunteered to peel apples and potatoes and I chopped onions and green peppers. Not much was said. I was okay with that. Not all the tears were from the onions.

When Mom wasn't cooking she was sleeping in that old recliner. It used to be my dad's favorite chair before he converted Joey's room into an office – now he spent most of his time in there. I tried to imagine my parents with no company, no children or grandchildren visiting. My dad in his office and my mom in the recliner with the TV watching her. It was too much to think about so I decided to take a nap. I felt lethargic.

Rhonda was spending Easter with Lance's family but she stopped by Saturday evening with the girls. Even though they hadn't seen Josh in over a year, he loved them like sisters and time was no barrier. Lance and Rhonda often reminded Josh that he was the only son they'd ever have. Rhonda and I talked about old times and life lessons. She shared several scriptures with me and told me her church was praying for me. We had planned to spend a week in Acapulco over the summer. Now that Jason was gone I didn't want to go.

Noah called around ten o'clock that evening to send his regrets for Sunday dinner. He and Tashika were both working and were only off on Good Friday. They had moved into their first house in the Bronx and said they were doing well. Noah invited Josh and I to visit over the summer. I promised I would try to get there.

Sunday service at St. Luke's was a major highlight of the Easter weekend in Smithtown. Shawn Campbell, who I had grown up with, was now the Associate Minister and he was preaching the morning sermon. This was the first time I remembered my dad relinquishing the pulpit on a holiday.

Joey, Stormy and Stephanie arrived around nine o'clock Sunday morning and met us at the church. Joey was playing for the morning service and Stormy and Stephanie were singing. My brother had been a Christian for two years and was directing a young adult male choir. He was now the
golden child. I was happy for him. He seemed to be in love with Stephanie, like I loved Jason.

The sermon, A Message of Victory and Hope, seemed like it was meant for me. Shawn preached from First Corinthians 15: 51 - 54.

Behold, I tell you a mystery: We shall not all sleep, but
we shall all be changed – in a moment, in the twinkling
of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will
sound, and the dead will be raised incorruptible, and
we shall be changed. For this corruptible must put on
incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality.

St. Luke's almost looked like Southfield Baptist Church. People were standing up, clapping their hands and shouting. For the moment I felt comforted and I thanked God for getting me through the past month. Then I thanked Him for giving me Josh.

After the benediction, I graciously accepted each sentiment of sorrow from the members of the congregation. Although I had agreed to stand with my parents at the back door, I had not adequately prepared myself. Each expression of sympathy was merely a reminder that Jason died three weeks ago. I managed to smile, hug and agree with each one of them that the Lord would be my strength. They felt sorry for me; I could see it in their eyes. I felt sorry for me, too. I thought about the pills Dr. White had given me for the headaches. My head didn't hurt as much as my life did.

Joey wasn't able to stay for dinner. He was playing for a community concert choir that afternoon in Brooklyn, which only left me a ten-minute meeting with Stephanie. I wanted to like her because Joey loved her. Stephanie seemed to have a good relationship with Stormy and that was important. We exchanged numbers with promises to call. I invited them to visit over the summer, they were planning to get married in a year and I wanted to get to know her.
Stormy was only in for the weekend and had a flight to catch back to Ann Arbor where she was a grad student at the University of Michigan. I gave her the number to the Singleton's and made her promise to call and introduce herself. My niece had grown up into a beautiful young lady.

My old bedroom was a temporary sanctuary. As bad as I thought life had been, coping with losing Jason was unfathomable. I didn't know how I would ever get beyond the pain. Sitting on the edge of the bed I decided that it was a good time to take a tranquilizer. It was my hope that by the time I woke up everyone would be sleeping and no one would want to talk.

I woke up Monday morning at five. Staring at the ceiling, I remembered the night we came home from our honeymoon. We laughed and giggled under the covers and practically held our breath to keep quiet. The bed was squeaky and we had to be very still. I heard my dad clear his throat on the steps. Jason was so loud! So much for pretending to be asleep!

“Mom are you awake?” Josh startled me as he came into the room.

“Yeah, what's the matter?” I asked, sitting up and realizing I had been daydreaming.

“I'm worried about you.” He sat on the bed facing me. “You've been asleep since yesterday. I tried to wake you up twice last night and you didn't answer.”

“I was really tired.” I lied.

“Mom let's go talk to someone.”

“Like who?”

“A, um a, a counselor like Ms. Butler.”

“A counselor?”

“I talked to Ms. Butler every day last week. She told me death can be traumatizing and can make you feel
depressed.”

“I'm not depressed,” I stated flatly in my defense.

“Mom, she said there are counselors for you too,” he continued, “and we can both go. I'll go with you.”

I cried and my son held me.

“Don't cry Mom, you still got me.” He was trying to comfort me. “Please don't cry.”

On the flight back to Columbus I admitted to myself that I didn't want to stay there. It was the home I made with Jason and it would never be the same again. Josh was finishing his sophomore year and would not be happy about moving and changing schools. He wouldn't understand, but he would have to adjust. Starting over would be good for him, too.

Getting through to the end of the school year was the difficult part. Josh was distant and moody. He didn't care about school and it showed – his grades dropped. Three months had passed since Jason died and I was even more determined to relocate.

Josh thought we were just going to visit Andrea the week after school ended. I didn't tell him about my job interviews just in case nothing came of them. The least I could do was give him the summer with his friends. Alicia called from Raleigh to let me know she agreed that we should move to Pittsburgh.

We arrived in Pittsburgh at ten-thirty Sunday morning and went straight to The Sanctuary. Harvey and Corey met us at the front door.

“Boy, you missed my Sunday school lesson,” Harvey teased Josh. “I bring the Word to life.”

“Well, good morning,” I interrupted, “we'll make it next time.” I didn't want Josh to feel on the spot about missing Sunday School.

Although we were still attending Southfield Baptist Church, we had not gone regularly since Jason's death. Attending church was not optional while staying with Andrea and Harvey. Their lives were entrenched in their faith. They both served as Sunday School teachers and even had family Bible Study every Thursday. Harvey was involved in the Salvation Soldiers which taught boys how to do things around the house like clean the gutters, mow the grass, and fix leaky sinks. Andrea was leading the Women's Ministry and had started My Sister's Keeper which helped young single mothers achieve self-sufficiency through education and employment. Corey was in the Youth Choir, the Mime Ministry and, of course, a Salvation Solider.

I just wanted God to be happy that Josh and I were still attending church. After all, He hadn't answered our prayers. I was sure Harvey knew that I was angry with God, too. I had told Andrea and she was his wife.

Andrea joined us in the Worship Center. The congregation had really grown since my last visit. There were some familiar faces, even though I couldn't put a name to them. There was always something welcoming and comforting about The Sanctuary.

My interviews on Monday went well. I was hoping to be hired full time, but indicated on my applications that I would accept a long-term substitute counselor position. Even though it would probably be a while before I heard anything, Andrea took me around to look at several apartments. I had already decided that we would live in an apartment for at least a year while I took my time looking for a house.

After three days Josh was ready to go back to
Columbus. Monday was bearable because he spent the day at Kennywood Park with the Salvation Soldiers, however, by Tuesday evening Josh was bored. I could only empathize with him; after all, he didn't know anyone and was being entertained by his nine-year old cousin. Although Josh was like a big brother to Corey, hanging out with him was no substitute for his own friends.

When I mentioned moving to Pittsburgh, Josh made it perfectly clear he wanted to stay in Columbus. I didn't want to live in our house. It wasn't ours anymore, Jason was gone. Colon cancer had stolen his life without warning or cause. Sometimes when I thought about it I would get angry with God for taking away the people who really loved me. First Nana and now Jason.

“Mom, I don't want to move to Pittsburgh,” Josh stated flatly on our drive back to Columbus. “I like where we live.”

“I used to like it,” I admitted. “It's not the same without Jason.”

“So you just want to forget all about him and leave?” He was trying not to sound cynical.

“I'll never forget him and you know that!” My response was emphatic.

We rode in silence for about thirty minutes.

“Josh, I know this is hard for you because it's hard for me. Jason was the love of my life. Can you understand that?”

“Yeah.”

“Sometimes in order to move on you have to physically move to another place.”

“Can't we move after I graduate? I promised Nicki I would take her to the prom.”

“I'd be willing to consider you coming back to Columbus to take her to the prom,” I said trying not to smile.
He was still naïve and I didn't have the heart to tell him there would be many more Nicki's.

“What about me playing ball?”

“What do you mean?”

“I can't just walk onto a team, Mom.” His tone was serious. “I'm trying to get a basketball scholarship.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, that way I can take care of you.”

“Josh, you don't have to take care of me. I want you to take care of you. Do you trust me?” I asked looking over at him.

“Of course Mom, why?”

“Trust me to know that this would be a good move for us.”

He didn't respond.

“If I don't get a job in Pittsburgh, we can stay until you graduate,” I conceded.

“Okay, I guess.” He was unsure of how to take my answer.

The job offer came three weeks later with a public school that had been taken over by a private company. It would be controversial, but challenging. I accepted knowing Josh was praying the offer never came. The news went over a little better because of the argument he and Nicki had that afternoon. However, the next day, after they made up, he wanted to know if I was sure that I really wanted to move. His tone was flat and his eyebrows met. Jason's mannerisms were becoming prominent in Joshua's expressions. That made me happy – I would always have Jason's expressions on Josh's face.

I put my house on the market and within a week a
young family relocating from Cleveland placed a bid on it. They had three small children and fell in love with the house and the neighborhood. It felt good to know that someone else was going to make wonderful memories in our house.