He would’ve been 38 but still we celebrate his birthday …

Dear Friends and supporters,

Is a birthday always a birthday, even if they’ve died?

Last weekend our family and many of our friends came together to celebrate and honour our son’s birthday. On May 23rd Josh would’ve been 38. He died in 2011 aged 22. Time is a cruel master.

And yet …

In the eight years since we’ve running our ACTIVE GRIEF WEEKEND retreats we have met and engaged with over 250 bereaved parents and siblings. If we have learnt anything from these encounters, it is that our responses to anniversaries, birthdays and death days can vary considerably. For some they are best avoided … they are after all, just another day in the calendar. I’m a bit like that … if Josh has now been dead for 15 years and 131 days, what’s one day more or less to make a difference.

For others of course they are truly important and significant moments for memory and reflection, not just for what might have been but for what was. And we can mourn what might have been at the same time we celebrate all we have lost. Is there another human condition that can hold two such contradictory ideas together at the same time, in the same breath?

Soon after Josh died we planted a young tree (a copper beech) on the hillside overlooking the village where we used to live near Stroud in Gloucestershire. Ever since, his friends have met at his tree once a year both to honour Josh and to celebrate the role he still plays as a unifying force for their own friendships. Many if not most have moved away from the valleys, they’ve grown up, made careers, found new partners, produced babies etc. etc…. all the things Josh never got to do.

I can see how difficult, how distressing this could be for many bereaved families, witnessing these lives blossoming while their son or daughter, their brother or sister lies cold further and further back in time. It is unfair and it is cruel that they continue to enjoy life while our son no longer has his.

Still we love them for being there … for being there for us and for Josh.

The gathering at the tree is then followed by a short walk to the pub.

I’ve often wondered how it that when people agree to be photographed with a picture of one who has died, that invariably they will smile and look happy. Is it an automatic but nervous response when faced with difficult emotions or an act of resilience as a way of celebrating a life rather than mourning a death? I certainly don’t find it disrespectful. Maybe it’s a measure of how we have all come to accommodate the reality that Josh longer has that life … that we can still find joy in our memories and know he won’t be forgotten. It’s a measure not just of the continuing bond with have with the dead but of the bond we have with each other. A shared grief is a healthy grief.

Thanks Joshua for all you have given us.

And thank you for reading

Jimmy (Josh’s dad)

May 2026