Joshua's service

I've had a difficult time bringing myself to sit down to write. I'm not really sure where the days go, but it is easy to let them all pass by. Last weekend was filled with time with family. Nearly everyone had left by Monday but I was lucky to have Sarah here until Wednesday evening. She helped me sort through Joshua's clothes and get most of them off to Goodwill. A task I didn't want to do on my own, although with her here I got through it okay.

Last week's service still runs over and over in my mind. It was such a beautiful day despite the cold temperatures and clouds. I wasn't so sure I would actually be able to get through it. In fact, I was threatening to sit the whole thing out on the beach while friends and family carried on without me. I suppose the cold weather convinced me that sitting inside would at least be warmer.

There were about 60 of us who gathered at old Fort Cronkhite, now the Headlands Institute, at Rodeo Beach. All of Joshua's cousins were there, as were two of his brothers. Friends came from as far away as Hawaii and Virginia and spanned his childhood to our move here. Included in that friends category were our nurse, social worker and spiritual care counselor from hospice. My family was represented by my three siblings, brother-in-law, my father and stepmother and my stepfather, as well as two aunts and an uncle. I dearly missed having my mom here, but she is still in Houston receiving treatment for leukemia. My sister stood in her stead not only my rock but also my organizer. She and my brother Keith planted themselves on either side of me during the service, held each of my hands and wouldn't let go. My oldest brother Scott was essentially my security detail for the day. At 6'4" he fit the part and spent the afternoon keeping an eye on me.

With so many people there and feeling quite numb to the whole thing, I found I really only spoke with people who happened to be in front of me. I didn't have the clarity to take time to speak with so many who came from so far. I do regret not havng the chance to speak to many of Joshua's cousins, for example. Perhaps another happier time in the near future. Joshua's family was so important to him and I don't want those connections to slip away.

As for the service itself, it was held on the second floor of an old army barracks building. We arranged the chairs so everyone sat facing a wall of windows that looked out onto Rodeo Beach and the ocean. As the service carried on, we could watch the waves coming in and hear the fog horn blowing in the distance. We had an "alter" at the front of the room (the picture posted on June 14) with all of Joshua's religious things including a few additions that overseas friends have since sent. Carolyn, the spiritual care counselor from Hospice by the Bay, led the service, giving a moving welcome to everyone. It was touching to know that Joshua so positively impacted the lives of all of our hospice care team in the short time they were able to know him. Mabel gave a eulogy, clearly showing where Joshua developed his knack for telling a story. In particular, she shared her story of going on a camping safari in Kenya with Joshua in the late seventies. She had everyone laughing at the memory of her guarded enthusiasm for such an adventure. Just as she had my Aunt Carol and I in stitches on May 21. It was, I believe, the same story she was sharing with us at the moment he died.

We had a military honor guard present military honors and a flag. It was something I had not given much consideration until a friend pointed out how important it might be to Mabel and the rest of Joshua's family. Joshua's military life was so long before our life together that it was difficult for me to fully appreciate its role in his life. While his experience in Vietnam clearly impacted the course his life took, more so, I think, than he ever acknowledged, it was something he rarely discussed with me. It felt to me that this short ceremony brought his life full circle.

In addition to a few readings, which I'll try to post here, we invited people to share stories of Joshua. What was so beautiful and noted by many there was the throughline in everyone's memories of him. He was who he was for his entire life with everyone he knew; he was not the type of person to present one side of his personality to one friend and another side to someone else. His humor, in both good and bad taste, his sense of adventure, his caring spirit were constants in all of his interactions.

We closed the service with Green Day's song, Good Riddance. I had thought for months of using the song at this time and was pleased when Joshua gave approval, as it were. The lyrics fit his life and this journey in particular:

Another turning point
A fork stuck in the road.
Time grabs you by the wrist
Directs you where to go.
So make the best of this test
And don't ask why.
It's not a question
But a lesson learned in time.
It's something unpredictable
But in the end is right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

So take the photographs
and still frames in your mind.
Hang it on a shelf in
Good health and good time
Tattoos of memories
and dead skin on trial.
For what it's worth
It was worth all the while.
It's something unpredictable
But in the end is right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

I starled myself at how deeply the song hit me given that I had been listening to it for months with this moment in mind. So perhaps in the end it was good that I didn't spend the hour sitting on the beach. Perhaps it really was the closure I needed. At least for now.