Although it has been one week since Erin passed, she was gone long before then. I could look at her and tell. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself because I wanted her to come home so badly. I feel better than I did a week ago, but I do not feel good. I have a deep sadness that physically resides in my chest where my heart chakra is. I’m also breaking out with candida on my skin again, and have the makings of a chest cold. The bike rides have been nice, but this morning I was literally nauseated when I came back. I’m beginning to stress about the every day stuff that I have been neglecting, but I am paralyzed part of the time I am so depressed.
With my emotional clearing training, I understand in my mind 100% of what I am experiencing and I know all of the stuff a therapist would tell me. Granted, it all sounds sort of stupid now that I am on this side of it. There is really nothing that you can do for grief. Grief is held in the heart chakra, and it permeates every cell of the physical body and the entirety of the emotional body. For all I know her spirit is already reincarnating somewhere. She is fine. I am not.
Everything reminds me of Erin. The commercial for The Voice just came on. She loved that show. It was one of our family shows. Everything has remnants of Erin…where she has been, where she wanted to go, what she did and wanted to do, things she loved and things she hated. Right now, I’m sitting in her seat at the kitchen table typing this on her laptop she got for her birthday last year. Just logging in, I see Olaf for her profile picture, Tinkerbell for one background, and a cute little kitten for her desktop wallpaper. The Windows 8 photo folder scrolls to two pictures of her she must have taken. I know I need to call Valhalla and ask about an original picture we gave them that I need back, but I am avoiding the reminder.
Last night I saw a bell pepper drawing on Facebook that one of Erin’s friends did for her current art class. It was very good, and I just kept thinking how Erin would have been drawing along side of her. She loved to draw and took some art classes from the Huntsville Museum of Art, and she also took every extra art class that Hampton Cove Elementary ever offered. Drawing, painting, any type of crafts were right up her alley. She did her last crafts from her hospital bed – a door hanger that she decorated with princess crowns and she drew her name on it.
I’m afraid that I am forgetting what her voice sounded like. I hear glimpses of it from time to time but I know that the sound quality in my mind’s eye is off a bit. I hope I find some recordings. I wish I had saved something. I am sure I will wish that a lot in the coming years.
