And even though I was dead, my broken heart gushed on pumping. My mind, nothing but a void of darkness with a single loose line, ravenously searched for a synapsis to cling to, any alternate scenario. Oh and my soul, reduced to ashes hardly clung to the air I had become.

I died that day, never to return. But, my body would not cease to exist, my heart, mind and soul refused to submit to the death of me and instead, dead me lived on in the most excruciating pain, in a foreign existence of myself.

The day I died went nothing like I imagined. For on that day, my heart suffered irreversible trauma, and my mind met an insufferable conclusion, and my soul shriveled up and turned to dust.

The day my son died, I died too. When they said he jumped in the water and didn’t come up, I wanted to jump in and drown with him. When I saw him in the casket, I wanted to climb inside and lay by him for eternity. When we buried him next to my brother, I trembled with a desire to feel the warm soil cover my face, to feel the weight and silence of 6 feet under and to be buried where I would never wake up to his absence again.

The death of my son and I has been a feral existence. Half of me jumped, drowned, climbed in the casket and felt the soil fill my nostrils. The other half is writing this.

By, Josh’s momma

Black stetson Bailey

If you’ve never seen a cowboy ride a manatee, you have now. Scott and I got this photo texted to us from a friend sitting at St. John’s tavern watching the Junior prom kids take pictures. The text said “Isn’t this your son?” At the time I rolled my eyes at this behavior after all, he could have broken the statue. Now, I smile at this because that is my boy, unapologetically fun loving. The CRHS class of 2022 won’t be forgetting Josh and his endless laughs and shenanigans. I am pretty confident that he’s also the only kid who wore a black Stetson to prom!

Sorry mayor Meek, I’m glad he didn’t break it!

Today I miss him terribly, like the rest of the days. Even so, I will focus on remembering him more than mourning him cause I wouldn’t trade my time with him for this pain or anything else.

LongLiveJosh

LLJ

Adam is more than a friend of Josh’s, they are like brothers. Adam is a friend of Josh’s entire family. There are certain people who enter your life with purpose and Adam is one of those rare and special people to Josh. Whenever the two were together they were content, they just fit together like tongue and groove. Josh absolutely loved Adam and thought that he knew how to do just about anything and whatever he didn’t know how to do he would figure it out. Now, I don’t know if Adam knew how to give a eulogy for his best friend in front of five or six hundred people, but he did it with grace and honor and love. Adam, your brave and capable and we appreciate you and love you like a son. Thank you.

“I would just like to start by thanking the family of Josh Bailey for allowing me the honor to speak to all of you about how Josh was able to touch mine and so many y’all’s hearts. Many of God’s blessings throughout our lives are delivered from our circumstances, events, and more importantly through the people we meet, so is the blessing of my friend josh. I’ve known him for around 5 years now. We just clicked instantly and never turned back, him and I could find a good time out of any situation we came across, for that I am so grateful because it allowed me the privilege of getting to know him as I did. The adventure was everyday, the sports, the fishing, down to shopping for a new hat or lures. How truly genuine a friend could be. Many nights he offered me a warm meal and a bed to sleep on. So often I found myself in the passenger seat of his truck singing along to old country songs and heading to a new fishing hole. Plain and simple; when you were with Josh Bailey, you just felt like life was easier. But that was how Josh carried himself, in a way that he hoped everyone around him would. In such a way that getting up in the morning wasn’t a task but purely a joy to see the sunrise over the bay again. Truly just grateful for the chance to go out and live. And based on all of the support gathered from his unfortunate loss. I know he instilled that upon everyone who met him. Josh took a piece of each and every one of us July 3rd. But knowing him the way we did I believe that he gave a bigger peice of himself back. To carry on with life as he would want us too, sure of ourselves, faithful, and living life to the fullest.” -Adam Schleitwiler

skiff school/vessel of lessons

When Josh was 12 Scott took him to buy a 16’ Carolina Skiff. We had just moved to Crystal River and Josh had basically no boating skills. Scott showed him what to do, asked him if he had any questions and then told him to drive the boat home. Scott told Josh he could do it and so…he did. Two things happened that day.

1. Josh learned that his step dad believed in him and was going to push him to do big things.
2. Josh fell in love with boating

Over the years Josh and his friends learned a lot about life on that skiff. He spent countless days with his buddies exploring the waters, fishing, and breaking about everything that could be broken on a boat. If that skiff could talk, it would tell some big tales.

One time Josh called me after dark and said they lost the prop, that it literally just fell off. They were a considerable distance out from the bay. I asked Josh how he would get the boat home and he told me he didn’t know and that’s why he called. We decided that he and Blaine, his buddy that was with him, were going to have a long night and I told him not to worry about being home for curfew but to make sure that boat was back at the house by morning. After failed attempts to swim the boat in, the boys ended up using a Tupperware container and something like a lid to a five gallon bucket to paddle themselves in. Once they neared the bay, they got out wherever there was a sea wall and walked the boat. I think they managed to get that boat home just before daylight. When I recall this story, it pains me, I wish I could go back and rush to their rescue, but that would have negated the lessons they learned that night. Without doubt, those boys worked together, they kept going when they were tired, they found out the value of resourcefulness. I am also very confident that every single time they have changed a prop since then, they have made sure the cotter pin was right.

There was another time when Josh loaded the boat down with his buddies to go camp for the night at Shell Island. It was a camping trip they had talked about for years and the day finally came when they were doing it. Josh pulled two packs of his venison sausage from the freezer and we talked about weather or not he should pack more food but no, he said everyone would bring something to share for food. I was concerned and made a list of things they would need like sunscreen, lighter fluid, water, bug repellent, etc. I think he sent a text out to the group of what to grab on the way over. I talked to Josh about anchoring the boat to be sure they didn’t misjudge the tides but he assured me he knew more than I about anchoring boats, and he was absolutely right about that. I still remember telling his friends Adam and Chris the same caution of anchoring properly. One friend, I think it was Julian, had begged his parents to let him go and after a full day of chores and convincing they allowed it. The boys were so excited and as quickly as they pulled up to our house, they pushed off in the boat with much anticipation. A boat load of boys headed out to be islanders for a night, the thrill of it made me giggle. Scott handed out solid advice about food, water, fire and most importantly the anchoring of the boat. They were all very appreciative of the advice and acknowledged respectfully with yes sirs and thank you’s and off they went just grinning. As I understand, the night started off great, sunset by the fire cooking up Josh’s hunted venison with great company. Until, they realized the two little packs of sausage was the only food that made it on the boat. They went to bed hungry. When the sun woke the boys up, they realized that the boat was along for the islander adventure too, as it was completely beached, a product of miscalculated anchoring. And, the hunger from the night before was only growing. Julian had to be home for work that afternoon and I think his parents had been stern on him being responsible and getting back for his obligation. He was not going to make that shift as the boat was beached completely but the tide was still going out. Eventually, Josh told me he and another boy decided to start popping open oysters and eating them. He said they were delicious and he told me there’s only one thing better than eating an oyster opened while wading in the water and that was a specific trout. I think his friend Chris refused the raw, slimy protein but as he was standing out in the water looking for oysters for the boys an osprey flew over and dropped a trout right down to Chris! That was the particular trout Josh talked of. I know the sheer excitement over that fish that was dropped from the sky was perhaps the best, ever. Those boys cooked that trout and ate it and of course, they were still starving, but it was likely the best fish they’ll ever eat in their lives. When the boys made it home that evening, they were spent! Sunburned, pocked from bug bites, starving and exhausted. The first thing Josh said to me was “mom, what’s that bread God sprinkled down from heaven?” I answered “Mana”. He said yea, we had a Mana experience. The trout reminded him of a bible story. They never did camp on that island again, but if they would have they absolutely would have brought some much needed and hard earned wisdom.

That skiff helped raise Josh and his buds. They set out to have a good time on that boat when they were middle school boys and wouldn’t you know they grew into men and I give that old skiff plenty of credit for being a vessel of lessons. That boat also was the home to countless good times shared between great friends.

Scott Redrick, thanks for always believing in him and for putting him on a boat. He loved it and he loved you!

A tale/ a triple tail

On October 4, 2021 Josh and I were on plane, headed in from fishing the spoil banks one day when he yelled “hold on momma” and he circled the boat around and killed the motor. He hopped to the front of the boat and looked over at a buoy and a huge smile came across his face. He was right, he had spotted a triple tail resting in the shade of the buoy. He grabbed his rod and sight casted right to him and brought him in the boat, first try. The thrill this gave him delighted me! It was a short slot so he was very gentle with the fish and wanted to get him back in the water quickly. My uncles would have just tossed the fish back overboard but Josh always wanted the fish to live to be caught another day. He told the fish he’d see him again and bring him home next time, once he grew a little bigger.
Josh is legally blind in one eye and can’t hardly see out of the other one and even with glasses his vision has never been very good but, he could spot a fish or a scallop in the water quicker than anyone I know. I used to ask him how his bad eyes were always the first to spot fish and he’d tell me ”I know the fish are there, it’s just a matter of seeing what your looking for”.

As I recall things my boy said, I realize he was my teacher in so many ways. He believed before he saw or he saw because he believed. His eyes were not as reliable as mine but his expectance was on the mark.

I love him more everyday. I have lived 54 days without my son. Every memory I have is the finest treasure of my life.

Broken/Surrounded by people like glue

Tragedy has ravished us with the loss of our son, Josh. It is lonely, but we are not alone, our village has us surrounded. The night Josh passed, our village was at the bridge, maybe 100 people, probably more, there for us, there for Josh. Less than 24 hours later, on a holiday, hundreds and hundreds gathered with us at Josh’s Bridge. Cards, calls, food, flowers, visitors began flowing steadily in, acts of love from near and far. Little league organized a pick up game to help little brother cope, and you showed up in droves. A swim remembrance at the bridge brought Josh’s squad of friends and family together again along with the local newspaper who put our son and the incredible mourning of a village on the Sunday front page. So many have come running to us, met us where we are, just to look us in the eye or squeeze our shoulder to let us know that our village is right by our side, to let us know that Josh is deeply loved, deeply missed. There are so many people and your acts of love that we could not begin to name you all, you are thousands, you are an army. You are like Josh, for Josh would run to anyone in need or broken hearted. Knowing that we don’t get to see Josh the way we have for the last 18 years is devastating, crippling. Though the hole that has been blown through our hearts is permanent, the love and care from our village has held us up in many ways. From the bottom of our broken hearts, we thank you.

And back to school

August 10th. Olivia’s birthday and always the first day of school. Today is the second birthday for Olivia without her brother Josh but the first birthday she remembers without him. He missed her first birthday because he wasn’t born yet and he’s missing her 20th birthday because his earthly days are over. Today we celebrate sis, but we ache so much because this is one of the days Josh never missed, and we miss him. It seems impossible to celebrate anything even though we now know just how much we should be celebrating one another. Happiness in any form is extremely limited right now and that should make its value grow, yet instead we hardly feel a thing.

We know you have not gone far from us because we still feel you, especially today. I didn’t bake her a cake or even buy a cake because that seems impossible. I didn’t even sing her happy birthday, I think I have forgotten how to sing. But, I did celebrate her from the bottom of my heart more than I ever could have since she was born and I became a mom. I celebrated her in quiet, without streamers and balloons, I sat in solitude and thought about the day she was born and every birthday since and all the ways she has brought joy, love and wisdom into our lives. I prayed for her and that her path will take her by calm waters, breathtaking landscapes, and the most beautiful people in the world. Josh has always been Olivia’s hype man, always rooting for her with everything he had. I know that Josh’s life will forever provide a compass for Olivia and she will save him a seat everywhere she goes in life.

It is said that guilt is a big part of grief but I am pushing guilt away from me like a plague, I simply cannot live as a prisoner where I am also the warden. I resign to the fact that I have done my best to celebrate Olivia this year with all I have available to me right now, and outwardly that doesn’t look like much, but on the inside of me I celebrate her more than I ever could have known how to before, from every single molecule that is me. No balloons and cake, no pony rides or circus acts like the birthday parties of years past, simply love. Love is the greatest gift in the world and that is nice because I have little else to offer anyone right now.

I understand now how difficult holiday’s and traditions are when there is an empty seat. There will forever be an empty seat when we gather because Josh is missing and no matter how grand the celebration we can’t look away from that empty seat. But if I turn it inside out, I think instead how blessed and lucky are we that for the rest of our lives, everywhere we go we save a seat for Josh because he is ours and is forever with us. That empty seat represents the life of Josh, and that is worth the extra chair.

To my Olivia, most years on August 10th Josh would wake up and frantically ask me what he should get you for your birthday. As you know, Josh had his own style and way of doing things and when some would be thinking about a birthday gift for weeks, Josh was not bothered by such things. Josh didn’t live in the past and he didn’t live in the future, he somehow figured out that its the present that is all we are given at a moment in time and he took full advantage of that. To put it in other terms, he waited until the last minute and I am no longer nagging him over that. Before the sun set every August 10th Josh had a thoughtful gift to give you, but the best gift he ever gave you was love and he had an unending supply of that reserved especially for you. I have learned that death has no jurisdiction over love and just as you will never cease to love him, he will never cease to love you back. Josh positioned a whole lot of people around us and thanks to a little help from that village, the birthday festivities will go on for you this year. I celebrate you this 20th year Olivia Marie, you are the love of my life.

Grief is not good/ I must grieve good

It’s been one month and five days since my son took a leap of faith off a bridge to swim with his friends in the river below. It was the last thing he did in his earthly body and I know that the fall down to the water was thrilling for him. He was doing what he loved to do and having fun with his friends. He hit the water and didn’t come back up. I searched for my son that night, a whole team of friends and family and experts searched for him. When we found him, it was much too late. Joshua James Bailey left us at 18 years old.

The moments that stand in bold print in my mind are terrifying. The worst thing that could happen, happened. My son died. I am living through the biggest fear of my life yet I grossly underestimated the size and power of this monster. There is not a piece of my spirit that has not been crushed under pressure and exploded, shattering shards and slivers through every cell of my body. I feel the wreckage within me, a constant physical burning and itching that cannot be soothed. The pieces of me could never go back together as they were, too much is broken and scattered beyond restoration. But, my heart beats on, one breath leads to another, so somehow my brokenness has not left me for dead. My broken pieces will slowly and painfully move and writhe within me until I become her. The person I will be once the evidence of my implosion becomes ruins pilgrimaged by few.

Until I find her, I am meandering, lost and confused in my war zone. The air is thick with sulfur and suffocating to breathe. Ears ringing unwilling to hear. Water can’t be found and couldn’t quench or stifle if it were; it’s murky, filthy, hot. The only moisture is the saltiest of tears that flow like a hot stream, leaving dirty streaks on cheeks that are ever creasing from set expressions of despair. Light is blotted out, shadows and darkness prevail day and night, day and night. There is no search and rescue coming for me, no vehicle of escape, no provisions. It is not accessible, I am an island in a sea of treachery. What once was a thriving beautiful landscape has turned into desolate wasteland. I am wasteland.

I’ve visited ancient ruins in different countries. I’m fascinated by their stories. I read the books of ancient civilizations and cultures with great interest. Of course, since the villages are ruins, something caused their demise; disease, famine, corruption, war. But, to visit the ruins is spiritual to me, something moves within me to see that a once thriving fortress with incredible architecture could ever be abandoned. It is a beautiful sight but with whispers of secrets lying in the overgrowth that something terrible happened here. Yet, the empty walls and crumbling stone hedges are magnificent perched by the sea or tucked into the woods with centuries of native flora inching around and up the walls, reclaimed by wildlife. And I travel and pay an entry fee to lay my eyes on these remarkable places, to feel my spirit wonder over the peace found there, knowing it took a long time and natures help for peace to be restored there.

I was a fortress. I built impossible things without the proper resources, without the knowledge or experience to do so. I dreamed up a land and worked to the grind in unrelenting conditions for the sake of my people. And it worked, and my foundation was solid and though there was always maintenance issues, there was harmony. It was founded upon love, it was named Mother.

I am ruins. Mother was ravished July 3rd 2022 the moment my son died. My fortress is now a death zone, a war zone. The once sweet, light air is thick with sulfur and suffocating to breathe. The sun is blotted out by clouds of darkness. Nothing is thriving, barely surviving. The walls are empty, my people are afflicted, severely injured and unable to crawl from under the debris. We must remain where we landed after impact, crippled and pinned where we are. If we ever get up, it will be of natural healing which demands time. If we ever get up, what mutilations will define us?

Good grief, grief is not good, I must grieve good. A few days after Josh died, I was taken to the emergency room. I didn’t die. The diagnosis was “Failure to Thrive”, I was dehydrated and my body was shutting down from lack of sleep, food and fluids and excessive stress. I welcomed the discomfort and confusion I was feeling, though it was not comfortable it felt like I could be dying and I didn’t mind that. Fear of my death is nothing to me anymore, that innate fear vanished the second my son died. The fabric of my fear is weaved by the inconceivable dread of being separated by death from my children. I have donned a heavy cloak cut and mended from the fabric of my darkest fear, only it is far worse than I could have conceptualized. My death would separate me from my children who are here and the death of my Josh has separated me from him. I am looking square into the eyes of a monster. My brokenness has not been the death of me, and I need my children who are here and one breath keeps leading to the next. I must grieve good.

While I lie in pain and paralysis in the ruins of my war zone I am prisoner to only myself. There is no one who can help me, no one to know the severity of my condition, except for me. I have no control over what has happened and no scope of its long term effects. I know that I will heal and I know that I must tend my wounds with care and patience for when the scar tissue begins to form it’s layers poison cannot be trapped within. When the war dust settles and the shards of me begin to connect once again, they must form to function.

I am Mother. I must again build impossible things without the proper resources, without the knowledge and resources to do so. I must dream up a land and work to the grind in unrelenting conditions for the sake of my people. And it must work, and my foundation must remain solid and though there will always be maintenance issues, there must be harmony. It was founded upon love, it must rise again upon love. It’s name is Her. She will be a beautiful sight but with whispers of secrets lying in the overgrowth that something terrible once happened here. You will feel my spirit and wonder over the peace found there.

To my children both dead and alive, you are my nucleus. I will love you all the days of my life here and then I will love you beyond that. Death can only cause physical separation but death has no power over love. I promise that I will be whole again, it will take time, it will take work but I will not fail you and I will not give up. While I don’t know Her, (the person I become as I heal) I know she loves you more than she could have before. It has always been about love, but I could have never know what love really was until now. We must grieve good even though grief is not good.

Dear/Deer

Josh was a lover of the outdoors and he loved to hunt. Every year once hunting season came around he was constantly thinking about when and where he could go deer hunting. He loved every part of the hunting experience, the time spent with the guys, the quiet, the outdoors, the patience, the sighting, the kill, the clean, and the cook. Josh just had an itch for hunting deer and he brought such excitement over the anticipation of hunting and the thrill of the kill. I have known people who love the hunt but I learned to understand it from my son, even though I have never hunted in my life. Josh explained to me that hunting is about faith. He said “mom, the deer are out there, the only question is if you’ll be in the stand and paying attention when one comes into sight”. Josh said that he was diligent about his expectation of sighting a deer the whole time he was in the stand, that he would not fall asleep or become distracted like so many hunters do because that could be the moment he would miss his dear deer.

Josh had plans to hunt every season for the rest of his life, and I guess he did that. He won’t be traveling west for the big hunts with his Uncle Timmy this year like they planned for his graduation gift and he won’t be in the stand with his brother Buck, nor will he hunt with Grandpa Greg or his best friend Blaine. Or, will he go with them regardless of death?

My son jumped from a bridge into the river to go for a swim with his friends on July 3rd, something they have done for years. Only this time he didn’t come back up. The bridge he jumped from is called the Indian Bridge, but we now call it Josh’s bridge. It has become a place where Josh’s friends and family gravitate toward to remember him and watch the sunsets. There are paintings, pictures, shells, coins, flowers, wreaths, signs and more that people bring and leave as tribute to Josh, who meant so much to so many. I decided to paint rocks to leave as tribute to Josh at the bridge, I’ve painted about four little rocks with things significant to my son written on them. This morning I painted a rock white and wrote “white tail” on it because he liked to hunt. I placed the rock on the bridge with the others and watched the river below thinking of my son and his hunting trips.

As I walked across the bridge toward my car, I looked ahead and stopped in my tracks when my gaze landed right on a white tail deer. I blinked in confusion, half disbelief, and I felt my eyes open wide in wonder over the situation. I was absolutely perplexed and I rolled a tape in my mind…painted rock, white tail, deep thought about Josh’s deer, whitetail deer in front of me, white tail deer staring at me. The deer and I just stood there looking at each other for at least ten minutes. After several minutes, I took my phone out of my car and took a video, the video is 2 minutes 13 seconds. A truck came driving down the road and that is when the deer casually pranced back into the canopy of trees.

I just decided that I believe coincidences are very unlikely. What I believe is that whatever happens in the present moment is filled with opportunity, will I be paying attention when it comes into sight?

Hunting is about faith. Josh said “mom, the deer are out there, the only question is if you’ll be in the stand and paying attention when one comes into sight”. Josh said that he was diligent about his expectation of sighting a deer the whole time he was in the stand, that he would not fall asleep or become distracted like so many hunters do because that could be the moment he would miss his dear deer.

I am not a hunter yet but I will be diligently watchful for dear moments. I will have faith and I will not be asleep or distracted like so many are, when I sight an opportunity. What will the opportunities be? Maybe that’s the beauty of faith, we may not know when, where, what, or how but we believe none the less.

The Ride/ The Die

My son, Joshua James Bailey was born 11 days late in Inverness, Florida on January 29th, 2004. His first home was in Floral City, Florida where he lived a short time with his grandparents, two uncles, sister, dad, and me…Josh’s mom. We then moved to Brooksville, Florida where Josh would live his first 12 years. Myself and his father divorced and I remarried and we moved to Crystal River, Florida. Crystal River is where Josh’s maternal relatives have lived for four generations. Josh was a happy baby born to a large, loving, extended family. As a baby Josh’s only problems were fear of missing out in the form of fighting sleep and skin rashes as he had the fairest skin I’ve ever seen. As a toddler, Josh loved balls and animal toys the best and didn’t get into things he shouldn’t. He was a content kid. By about 3 years old, we could recognize that he was social and loved people. He made friends at church and loved his cousins and was sad anytime he had to leave them. At 4 years old Josh started t-ball with his first friend and best friend Gabe. The two of them fell in love with the ball field. Gabe was a fantastic player and Josh worked harder than most and he couldn’t get enough of the comradery and the coaches. Josh played Dixie League baseball at Ernie Weaver Park until we moved to Crystal River. Josh was thrilled to start school and he was the kid who hugged me goodbye and was happy to join in with the other kids, no tears from him if friends were around. He went to Brooksville Elementary School and excelled socially and academically. He loved his teachers and was the kid who greeted the staff he passed with a hug daily. Our backyard was across the street from the elementary school playground so at PE and recess I would often go outside, climb up in their treehouse and if they saw me he and Olivia would yell “hi mom”. I volunteered in Olivia and Josh’s classrooms twice a week and that gave me a window into the type of students they were. Josh was always involved and always on task because he truly enjoyed learning and once again, he liked people. He joined the drama club and landed the lead roll a couple times and he practiced his lines purposefully and knew them all. Middle school is often a difficult time for students, but not for Josh, he continued to excel socially and academically and he liked school. Josh was at DS Parrot Middle School in Brooksville for 6th grade and then we moved to Crystal River where he started 7th grade at Crystal River Middle School. We chose to move when we did because his sister Olivia was starting her freshman year of high school and we felt it was important for her to have all four years of high school in the same place. I worried over Josh being the new kid in 7th grade, but he fit in right away and made friendships that lasted him the rest of his life. Josh played little league baseball at Bicentennial Park in Crystal River and it was interesting to me that although he was the new kid, he was the one who was building bonds between the boys and connecting people. Josh made friends with ease, it was natural for him and many of the boys he played ball with are still his close friends today. Those baseball boys from back when they were kids are at my house now, taking care of Josh’s mom even though Josh is not here anymore, because Josh built meaningful and real relationships. Josh’s 13th birthday party bought over about 30 friends and they had the biggest time. High School years came quick and Josh was involved in everything at Crystal River High School. He truly had a class of outstanding kids who were so close with each other. Building homecoming floats, baseball, track and football and he never missed a social event. He started high school in sophomore level classes and kept up well. When Josh and the CRHS class of 2022 started driving, things ramped up quick and it was a wild ride for a good year and a half. For Josh, the idea of wheels, wide open spaces and mostly meeting up with friends anytime was absolutely thrilling! Then the covid pandemic hit and school closed halting the sports programs and everything else school related. We were told we had to stay home, avoid contact with everyone and if you must be around anyone, maintain a social distance of 6 feet. This was no fun for anyone, but for Josh it was completely devastating! Josh has always been a social creature, the center of his life has always been people and especially family and friends. For him, social isolation nearly threw him into depression, but he started sneaking out of the house to meet friends in the neighborhood before it got that far and that is understandable. The summer of Covid, Josh took a job at Twin Rivers Marina and even though he was only 16, they let him work as much as he would and so he worked 60 hours a week because he was a hard worker and because that kept him out of isolation at home. Josh graduated cum laude with the best friends in the world, the Crystal River High School class of 2022. He was thrilled to be finished and to have finished well with honors. He had started summer college classes and intended to earn his masters degree in Business where he would pursue a career in the outdoor industry.

On July 3rd, 2022 Josh woke up, cleaned the boat and headed over to a gathering at a friends house where he spent the afternoon with me and other family and friends. It was an interesting day because he had his family there as well as his first and best childhood friend, Gabe and his first and best Crystal River friend, Hudson. We were all there having a good time. Josh loved swimming holes and knew them all. He and his friends loaded up and headed to the Indian bridge to take a swim, Josh jumped. And he didn’t fly and he didn’t swim but he did gain his wings that moment. My son, Joshua Bailey will always be the love of my life. He will always bring me sweet and pure joy. He lived a big and full life surrounded by the most wonderful family and friends, coaches, teachers, bosses and even strangers who he just loved. He was skilled in so many things that I could not even begin to list them. He was kind and respectful and genuine and hilarious. He was the kind of person who could help others without any need for words, simply spending time with Josh would push peoples reset button, he had a calm and happy spirit to him. The day my son jumped in the water at that swimming hole, I know his expression was of thrill and delight. He loved the water and loved jumping in. He left doing his favorite thing with some of his favorite people. Josh died living.