Final Thoughts from Aunt Vickie

Final Thoughts from

Vickie Jean Larson

(Joshua’s Aunt)

“Thanks for bringing such a special guy into the world.”

(Vickie Larson, November 26, 2005)

October 3, 2005

Joshua is in the hospital. He was diagnosed with pneumonia yesterday and given fluid. The problem is that the fluids haven't passed through him. There is something wrong with his kidneys.  I can't even let myself contemplate what that could mean.

October 10, 2005

Joshua died. His little heart stopped beating at 3:40 p.m. on Tuesday, October 4th. Actually, his heart wasn't little at all.  It was twice the size of an average human heart.  It was just too big to effectively pump blood.  I still can't believe that he is gone.

On Tuesday, after Glenn called me, I was in shock. I could barely function. When I left work, I could hardly think of what to pack. Luckily, Becky and Cindy came over and helped me.  They went through my photos albums and took out pictures of Joshua while they coached me on what to pack.  Then Cindy drove me to the Oakland airport. Cindy's autisitic down-syndrome son, Adam, was very sweet with me.  He kept hugging me, which was exactly what I needed.

I was a wreck on my flight. I sobbed the whole way to Salt Lake. I felt bad for the other passengers because they kept looking at me with helpless expressions, but I couldn't stop crying. Doug picked me up from the airport and I broke down again when we embraced.

The ride to the hospital was too long, but I still wasn't prepared when I walked into Joshua's room.  It was one of the most beautiful and most heartbreaking scenes.  Selma was lying next to Joshua hugging him and crying. She was so tender.  I was on hallowed ground.

I still can't believe that he is gone. My heart feels so empty...and the ache is constant.  It is so hard to leave.  I didn't want to board this plane.  I didn't want to leave.

This week is a blur.  I had difficulty telling the days apart.  The only thing that kept me sane was focusing on helping Selma in any way that I could. I decided to put together photo boards to be displayed at the funeral.  I initially bought 8, but then mom bought six more.  I enlarged many photos at Kinkos and made my tribute to Joshua.  It was therapeutic and healing for me. I think that it was healing for Selma as well.

Wednesday night, when I knelt to pray, I felt Joshua.  It was a tangible impression. I know that there is life after death and I felt comforted in that moment. It was a beautiful and sacred experience...one that I hope I will never forget.

Friday morning, while leaving Kinkos (I was making the last batch of enlargements), I started to panic.  Selma asked me to make buttons, and I had no idea where to go to get buttons made and I didn't think we could get them done in time...so I called Holly and just sobbed...and Holly said that she would work on finding a place to make buttons...and she did...and they made 300 buttons in five hours (a small miracle).  All of Selma's wishes were fulfilled!

Joshua's "viewing" was amazing...maybe that's the wrong word, but there was a line out the door for most of the night. David Collins put it best when he said that he would be happy if 1/5 of these people attended his funeral.  The love was overwhelming.  Doug and Mark made a video to show.  They did a beautiful job. When they put it on, Jacob and Janson just sobbed.  They watched it over and over again. Holly came to the viewing.  She brought the buttons and just stayed with me. About 8 o'clock, she went and got McDonalds for all the little kids. Truly an angel. I still can't get over how many people came to the viewing. The Orrocks came...and Scott just sat with Dad for a long time. Oh Dad...he is really having a hard time. He just sobbed all day on the 4th.  I don't think that I have ever heard a sadder cry.  After the last person left the funeral home, Michael and Selma watched the DVD.  Again, a sacred moment.

I usually hate the way a body is presented in a casket, but Joshua really did look like he was sleeping.  He was dressed in a white turtleneck, red baseball shirt and jeans.  His hands were holding a Barney tape.  A T-Ball medal was hung around his neck.  Alongside him were a plastic baseball bat, hymn book, a couple small toys, and other things.  The casket was made of pine and was beautiful.  It was the perfect final resting place.

About 800 people showed up for the funeral.  I have never been to a funeral that big.  What a testament to Joshua and Selma.  There were many people who were unable to view Joshua because time wouldn't allow it. Selma looked beautiful, but the ache in her heart was apparent.  I had a very hard time...I couldn't focus.  I just couldn't let myself feel pain.  It was too intense.  I would wander to the casket to stroke Joshua's hair.  I tried to avoid touching his skin - it was too cold and I would find myself overcome with grief.  I did kiss his forehead, but it tore me up inside.  Michael Larson was very tender. He stayed at the casket longer than anyone for the final viewing and then when he left, tears poured down his cheeks.  Mark was also having difficulty.  As we made our way to the chapel, he was sobbing uncontrollably.  We embraced and cried together.

The funeral was a fitting tribute to our Joshua Boy.  Selma's talk was so touching and real.  Jeremy's letter was full of love.  And I think us Uncles and Aunts really did a good job at celebrating Joshua for who he was.  Even though it lasted over two hours, it was too short.  Time passed too quickly and before I knew it, we were at the cemetery.  Dad dedicated the grave and then it was over.  I felt like we still had too much to say for the ceremony to end.  I wasn't ready to leave Joshua.  I wanted to throw myself on the casket and wail like they do in other cultures. It would have represented my true feelings.  Instead, I kissed the top of the casket and allowed my tears to gently fall.

Oh, I forgot to mention something.  I wanted to give Joshua something, but I couldn't think of what so I took my Joshua pin off and pinned in on him before they closed the casket. I felt like he understood.