Jan 21

The Age of Suffering

I haven’t written in a few days, and this time not because I am busy. I have become extremely depressed again. I have what I assume is PTSD, because I have vivid images and “movies” that play in my mind of Erin laying in the ICU, dying, the short time before she was unconscious, the few minutes they woke her a few days in, etc. I see those images and I can’t control when they come, but they are so tangible that I swear I can reach out and touch them. They rip holes in my heart and make me wish I was done, dead, finished.

I think my mind goes back there to find the moment where I should have turned left instead of turning right. But I can’t find that decision point, even though my subconscious keeps looking. I have known from the beginning that her death was just meant to be, and I get it but I don’t accept it. There are so many things that tell me that it was her fate, and mine, and yet I still do not accept it. I read that I need to let her go, but I refuse. Going back to one of Matt Kahn’s videos, I am going to own that and come as I am. That’s one piece of baggage that no one better ask me to let go of. How could the universe even begin to think I can overcome and drop that baggage? Surely there is no being corporeal or not that could expect that of me.

All of this grief that I am pouring into the collective consciousness, I hope it’s being put to good use. Someone out there, be it a God or whatever, better recognize that there is a lot of f’ing suffering, and that it’s too much. I would rather be raped and tortured than to have lost my child. There are many different types of suffering, but this has got to be the worst.

I get why I had to experience this in this lifetime, but I don’t accept it. I have always been different, and I think outside of the box. I accept all things as possible, somewhere somehow. So I recently realized that my not accepting that Erin was gone forever, or for this lifetime, is completely valid and that if anyone will find a quantum way back to her it will be me. I don’t know how, and I don’t have to. I just have to believe it, and never stop searching for that pathway.

So to whomever set this BS planet and experience up, I’m calling your bluff. Too much pain is here and we deserve for it to come to an end. I’m looking for the chink in your armor, so be warned. Release all of us or I’m coming for you. I declare the age of happiness and joy to be NOW and for the end of suffering to be NOW.

Most of you will think I am crazy, but I can accept that and be OK with it. Namaste and so be it. #missingerin

Jan 18

Looks are Deceiving

I have been thinking lately about how everyone thinks I am so strong. They have no idea the strength it takes just to be alive every day. But they also have no idea how weak I am. For instance, although I am personally against the idea, I would sell my very soul in a heartbeat to have Erin back. I would make a deal, like on the show Supernatural, to have the hell hounds come for me in 10 years, or even in 1, just to see her again. I would rather be dead than live without her, and my consciousness searches the dimensions for one in which she is alive. That may sound like an odd statement to some of you, but if you believe that there are other universes or dimensions, it’s possible.

Last night I dreamed that I got a second chance. I call them dreams, but when I sleep and I have lucid experiences they are just that and not dreams. I am fully aware, and remember past and present. I knew she was dead and that this was a second chance. In fact, Shaun and I argued over what to tell the doctors because I knew that I had to tell them everything in order to give them time to heal her this time. And I got to speak to her, and I chose my words carefully, because I knew that this was my 2nd chance. I woke with some hope. I am being shown things in my dreams that are seemingly impossible, but I know that nothing is impossible. So therein lies my hope. I will never let her go, nor will I let go of ideas that some think are impossible or nuts.

My strength is evident in the fact that I am walking, talking, and yet so miserable that I am ruined. But I am not strong, I am very weak. I wonder if I would compromise all of the integrity and character that I have strove for in this lifetime, if I would throw it all away in the blink of an eye. I wonder if I would throw humanity itself away just to have the comfort of my baby girl. I suspect that in the final moment, I would not succumb to that sort of darkness and lapse of integrity, but you never know. My grief is strong, and I grieve for all parents who have lost. I am no savior, but I grieve for you and with you. I embody your pain and my own. And if there are any ascended or lighted beings who are listening and feeling this, I hope you take heed. No one, anywhere, should have to suffer this much. I have learned what that means and I will never forget it, even if I reincarnate a thousand times more.

Namaste and #missingerin

 

Jan 16

Into the Weird

I find that in the past few days, as I have been busy with work and other things, I have blocked my grief out as much as I possibly can. I both like and do not like how that makes me feel. Getting immersed in other people’s stuff makes me forget my own. But then when I have down time, I feel that what I have been ignoring comes in a rush and fills me up. Which makes me block it out a little more, and then I end up feeling numb. I have no idea if that even makes sense but that’s the best way that I can explain it.

That said, I have been dreaming a lot this week for the first time in a long time, and the first night I dreamed of Shaun’s brother Greg, and the second night of Erin. Look, I call them dreams but the reality is that I lucid dream and I also visit other realities, and I know the differences between that and normal dreaming, which I still do sometimes. I realized last week that all of those dreams I had where Erin has died in other realities, well I forgot the dream I had where she was alive. So there is one parallel reality where my little Erin is alive and did not die, and I found her and that “space” the two nights ago. I guess I must have found the one where Greg was still alive as well. It’s funny how I understand that now, and it gives me some comfort.

My biggest problem lately is the PTSD type stuff I am experiencing. I never understood flash backs but I do now, and they are awful. It’s like a horror movie that you can’t stop, complete with emotions overtaking you. I feel awful for people who have scary flashbacks. Mine are just emotionally sad, but torturous nonetheless. It’s like being stabbed in the heart repeatedly.

Otherwise I feel very weird, as if I am being lulled to sleep. But I still know what is going on around me, and it’s just a very weird feeling. I suspect that it is a grief response. I will leave you with some Soundgarden lyrics that I find very relevant to me these days:

Whatsoever I’ve feared has come to life
And whatsoever I’ve fought off became my life
Just when everyday seemed to greet me with a smile
Sunspots have faded

Now I’m doing time

That’s from Fell on Black Days. And I sure have.

Namaste and #missingerin. I hope I am more inspired tomorrow.

Jan 15

Hard Days Night

I wanted to post yesterday but I have been extremely busy. I started coming back into “the office” to assist with a contract transition and close out, and will be here for awhile most every day. It has been a nice distraction because “work me” smiles and chats and tries to uplift my staff. It’s part of my character yes, but also an automatic response. You can’t help but be more cheerful when you are smiling.

That said, yesterday was a hard day. I knew that it was the 5 month anniversary of Erin’s death. It has actually, in weeks, been closer to 6 months, but nonetheless it was 5 months yesterday. I had to go to Wal-Mart during the work day to get a new coffee pot for the office, and while on that aisle I saw an Olaf waffle maker. That nearly tore me in two, and so I choked back the tears – hey, I have to wear make up and really don’t want black crap running down my face after crying – so I choked back the tears and headed to the coffee aisle. While there, this nice lady asked about the pot I had in the cart, and I thought “Whew, a distraction! Thank you universe!” But then I found myself in the check out line, looking at all of the stuff that Erin would have been asking for had she been there with me. I still held it together, though.

And that’s when I was headed towards the door, and had forgotten that if you have unbagged stuff the door person wants to see your receipt. I was just barely holding it together, so much so that I was irritated that the lady who came over to me and asked had a speech impediment. Look, that’s not me, but I wasn’t really in my right state of mind, and I’m just trying to be honest while telling you my story. But I grabbed the receipt and then I saw it – her name tag said ERIN. Shit.

I cried all the way to the car, and managed to dry it up before I made the less than 5 minute drive back to work. But I was weepy all day, and somewhat down.

I haven’t shared yet that a few nights before, I was laying in the bed trying to sleep and having what is basically PTSD, where I fight off images of Erin in ICU, etc. It is very painful for me to go through that over and over but it happens regularly. Around that time, I felt HER, yes her, come straight into my heart chakra and it felt better. A few minutes later I felt sad again, but it happened again, and I realized that while the thoughts were still there I could not manage to feel bad within my heart. I believe she stayed until I went to sleep.

And last night, I felt her pounce on the bed right in between Shaun and I. He was already asleep. By the way, when I say things like this, I have already (in the moment) analyzed the heck out of it and considered other options. I don’t want to lie to myself any more than I want to lie to you all. It passed the litmus test and I know it was her.

So I really don’t know what I am doing this morning besides trying to chronicle what all I have been experiencing over a few days of not posting. It’s different writing with so many people around me. I am sensitive to energy and so instead of solitude, I have 50+ personalities pressing in on my and interfering with my thoughts and emotions. I guess I will have to get the hang of blocking all of that out again. I don’t do well with that sort of thing, and it drains me.

Well, work calls, but maybe I will be more calm later and have an actual train of thought!

Namaste and #missingerin

Jan 11

The Value of Peeling the Onion

Before I write, I asked for clarity on my topic and pulled Indecision: I use my intuition in all aspects of life. That is a good reminder, because my topic came about after a rash of second guessing myself yesterday in regards to some advice and a conversation I had while having dinner with a friend.

The initial topic came up when my friend noted that she had recently had some work done to have cords removed from her etheric body. She was astounded at the results, and said how much it had helped her. Later, however, the basic topic of emotional clearing came up and I tried my best to explain why removing cords was not a permanent solution to any issue, and not to be shocked if an “issue” came up again.

I also find that as I write this, I keep having to start over because I keep sugar coating it, apologizing, trying to talk “you” into it (talk me into it?), whatever. The bottom line is that therapies are complementary. Lessening a burden or repair work is not meant to take the place of the work needed to sort out and resolve emotional issues. I can hand you my grocery bags, but if my shoulder still hurts then it will hurt next time I pick them up. And emotional triggers don’t’ just go away without work.

Now this isn’t a commentary on my friend, but typically people just don’t want to do any work. They don’t want to feel any pain. The reason is obvious – it sucks. It’s not instant gratification. You have to revisit things that were already painful from your past. But when you complete each layer (yep, like an onion), the triggers don’t hurt so bad. They don’t make you as fearful, angry, as sad, as ashamed, or whatever the lower spectrum emotion is. This is all part of being emotionally healthy, and it is well worth the work. You let the baggage go and you are lighter.

Complementary therapies such as bodywork, RET, cord cutting and others remove attachments and programming. They help you to get through a crisis, clean the body up, assist with ingrained feelings and habits, etc. But they do not remove the root cause. There is no magical cure. And there are no saviors! Always remember that. You are meant to save yourself by figuring out the puzzle, hanging in there, and doing the work. The price is the work done by you – you must put the effort in.

You may notice that I listed fear(ful) above first, and that is because all of the other “lower” emotions arise from fear. Fear is the mother of the negative. We react badly, and act badly, due to some fear. Maybe we are afraid of what people think. Maybe we’re afraid our spouse will leave us. We may be afraid for our lives. Whatever the reason, it’s a powerful emotion and powerful driver. I happened upon a wonderful article that talks about fear yesterday (not a coincidence!). It’s called Smoke and Mirrors: The Illusion of Fear and I highly recommend it.

As I noted, there are no shortcuts to peeling your onion, although sometimes you can have larger shifts in perspective than others. Regardless of the magnitude of what you learn or discover, please make sure you recognize it and change whatever is being illuminated. As I have mentioned many times, I had an axe taken to my onion in the form of my daughter’s death. In an instant it showed me so much, and in many ways took the entire onion with it. I hope for you that you can work at your own pace and that you don’t have to experience trauma as I did. On a daily basis I have to make sure that I work on what remains, and that I rebuild my Self with what is positive and healthy. I guess the point is that it’s always a challenge, always a learning experience, but it does get easier as you clear your “stuff. Had I not done the work that I did, I may have lost my mind and acted out badly during my ordeal.

That’s all for today. I actually began writing this yesterday, so I may write again today.

Namaste and #missingerin

 

Jan 08

Fear, or What the Heck?!

I posted something earlier on Facebook attributed to Nelson Mandela that said “Courage is not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it.” It has a few more lines that reiterate that, and I’m not sure why that is so important to focus on but it occurred to me to reexamine it now. I also had a rather nebulous conversation via messenger today with a friend that finally revealed fear. So apparently fear is the topic du jour.

After Erin’s death, I fear nothing. I can’t say that I don’t get taken by surprise, or even have a tense moment of “oh crap not that” at certain times. I mean, if someone broke in the house I would be tense, but I have nothing to lose so what is there to be afraid of? Tenseness and fear may be similar flavors but they are different. The former is a flight or fight response from your body. Fear resonates deeper, into the soul.

So let me reiterate that I fear nothing. I would be very upset if something happened to Shaun. I love him, so how would I not? But I’ve lived my worst nightmare now, and having lost the child I carried nothing compares. It just doesn’t, and I feel slightly bad about that because I love him. But that is the truth, and it doesn’t detract from how much I love him. It’s just – I can’t feel worse. So, that said, my only fear left is having to get up tomorrow, and the next day, without my daughter. What’s the worst that could happen? I used to do that scenario for perspective. Never was the worst that Erin would die, or even Shaun. It was a given, an absolute, that they would not. So thus I feared my death as the ultimate “worst” and never theirs. Everything else, including their safety of course, was the context for driving me in my life. Well all of that shit got wiped out in an instant didn’t it? Fear, and lack of it, are funny things.

My friend has some fears, and without saying too much about my opinion (it wasn’t asked for), I will say that I know it came up for me to examine and not for her. Well maybe it was for her too, but none of my beeswax as again, I wasn’t asked. I just find it interesting and as I write I am still wondering Why examine this and Why in this blog and Why today? Run on question 🙂

Well being stumped, I just paused to pull a card for more clarity. Well, for some clarity, because I had a whopping none. I pulled one I have never pulled which is Discipline: I can accomplish what I set my mind to. Ah, finally some clarity. I spoke to my aunt a few times this past week about my palm. She reads palms, and while she was here she took a gander at mine. She made a few comments that quite frankly were bummers for me. First, my lifeline is long. You would understand the bummerness if you woke up in emotional pain daily. I wonder when it will end. Wish for it. It’s not really as tragic as it sounds. I am done, or feel like it, and yet apparently not. Whoever locked me in this room isn’t ready to let me out yet. The second thing she said was that she sees this bunch of life shit (my words) in my lines, and she sees peace afterward. That doesn’t please me either. I don’t feel like having peace, really, which surprises me. I feel that if I achieve peace, I will let go of Erin, and I can never do that. So bingo! There’s the big fear. You see how I had to look for it? Our emotions and our Egos will never just give it up. They try to protect us from it, and thus play hide and seek and stay in a state of denial. If you don’t call it a pink bunny, maybe it’s blue in other words. Reminds me of my grandfather. They wanted a girl, got a boy, so let his hair grow long and didn’t name him. Yeah, that worked didn’t it. LOL It’s funny but this is exactly what our protection systems do. They think it’s healthy, and it may be for a moment, but you can’t stay wrapped up in lies forever. It becomes toxic to your emotions and to the physical body too.

I didn’t really plan the time to get into a discussion of emotional clearing and so I am going to save that for another article (or one I’ve already written. If you have burning questions, consult the menu.). But the seeker and observer in me finds this most interesting. I don’t think I can move forward while harboring the fear of moving forward. Sounds pretty simple but easier said than done when it’s like walking on knives.

I guess that’s all for today! Namaste, and #missingerin

 

Jan 07

Come As You Are

This is my second draft. I began writing a minute ago, not knowing what I was supposed to say, and then discovered to my dismay that something here in my editor was bugging me. I only mention this because there are no coincidences, and as such I see two things that I need to pay attention to. First, I have outgrown the width of my editor. What does that mean? Outgrown…width…editor (self/mind). I guess a shift in my perception from something I recently listened to must have done the trick.

Second, I guess I had to try to start over to see that my editor still had not fixed its width (I hate when you type, and it keeps running so that you can’t see the whole bit on the page. No sliders – bugs me to death.). I had to see this because I had to remember what I had actually learned. What is that you ask? Come as you are.

I happened upon a video by a guy named Matt Kahn last night and something about him made me keep listening. Some of the things he was saying were like “DUH” and so I listened to one then another this morning. The message that I took away from it is to come as you are. I’m not sure if any religious texts say that specifically, but I do remember an old song from church “Just As I Am” so maybe that’s a universal concept. I guess the point is that yo have to be brutally honest in order to actually grow, arrive, achieve, whatever. So he was making some jokes about arriving and saying “Well I’m not happy about this!” It really struck a chord, because I am able to see some of the divine reasoning behind my shit storm in life here, but damn I am NOT happy about it. That’s being honest. And I have to stop and share this – as I wrote the words “divine reasoning” I got a huge tone in my left ear.

So last night, Shaun and I were both really bummed. Honestly we rarely ever even say her name to each other. It makes it more real, and more sad. But we did, and we were bummed. I was in the bed trying to go to sleep and I mentally yelled out everything I was unhappy about. Unhappy is my truth lately, so I was being honest. I came as I was. And this morning I felt a lot better about some of it. And I’m going to take the editor width and the tone as a sign that I managed to do something right.

The second video I listened to this morning was actually a hoot in many ways, so I’m going to highly recommend it here if for no other reason than to get a good laugh. I bet this guy is a hoot to be around. He made me smile and laugh anyway. It’s called Too Good to Be True and it also sparked somewhat of a perspective change.

Of course I can’t say Come As You Are without thinking of the old Nirvana song. “Come as you are, doused in mud, soaked in bleach, as I want you to be.” Such a dichotomy with “as I want you to be” but isn’t that part of this human experience? I turn that inward today, knowing that I harbor both within me in regards to my own Self.

Well, that’s all for today, or for right now at least. I am going to work on being honest even if that is unhappy, and accept that is what and who I am right now. I’m also going to work on congratulating myself for the little things (if you watch the video you will get that). Such as “Man, I really wrote a kick ass article today didn’t I!” **smile**

Namaste you wonderful people. #missingerin

PS – If anyone is interested in the Medium that I visited in Nashville, Krista Kaine, she will be back on these dates: Tuesday, February 18th-Sunday February 22nd 2015. Visit her website or email assistant@kristakaine.com to book it.

Jan 05

The Bracelet, or Linda’s Eulogy by Nicole

braceletAs you can see, this bracelet is well-worn. It was given to my mother, Linda, by her sister Shirley, in 2012 for her birthday. It doesn’t look like much, but if you knew Linda it says a lot about her.

First, she loved gifts and gift giving when she still had her mind. The nice man at the funeral home came up with that line on his own after speaking with us, but it’s true. She was an expert gift giver and always went overboard. It was a source of contention between us after Erin was born, because you can only give a person so much before it either becomes clutter or unappreciated. Part of this gluttony was due to the dementia, which we didn’t know she had then, but still, she always gave many gifts and nice ones.

She loved jewelry. Almost all of her pictures displayed some sort of jewelry. In the 70’s and early 80’s it was multiple gold necklaces, bracelets, rings, and earrings. Then it became the popular costume jewelry. Both her 2nd and 3rd husbands got her large solitaire diamond engagement rings, which she picked out of course. She liked jewelry and to dress up and go out on the town.

She loved her sisters deeply. So this gift from her sister, even though she was already very ill with dementia, was treasured. Only once did I see her forget its significance, and she wore it daily in the nursing home even after she could no longer dress herself. The lovely nurses assistants who cared for her put it on her each day. You can see, just barely now, the message of Peace and Joy. These messages were deliberate, because after she became sick with dementia, she had very little peace and joy. In fact in the last year of her life, there was nothing that she enjoyed. All of the things she had ever enjoyed brought her no joy at all, or else they were forgotten. Moments of clarity brought only distress in knowing something was wrong but not how to fix it.

In my own life, I have a focus on integrity and character, I also have a focus on compassion. Part of being compassionate is understanding why someone is the way they are. Mom had a hard life in many ways, and while one could say she didn’t handle it well she did the best she could with the tools available to her. She married Harold Dean Hunt at age 17, and he was soon discharged from the Navy and began school at Mississippi State University. As many wives did back then, she worked while he went to school. When he got his BS in Engineering and was offered a job with Boeing in Huntsville, AL, they moved and began their new lives here. That was 1968. She worked for a little while at Boeing, too, in their document control room. This was during the exciting time of the Apollo launches and they both enjoyed their jobs. After a time, Mom decided she didn’t want to work anymore and that was fine with Harold, so she became a house wife once again.

I was born in 1971 and was their only child in 1973 when Harold was diagnosed with ALS, or Lou Gehrig’s disease, at the young age of 34. He died 2 years later at the age of 36, and Mom was a widow at age 32. She had loved him dearly and I’m not sure she ever got over his death.

In 1978 she met the person who was to be her 2nd husband, Jerry Chesser. They dated several years and were married in 1983. During their time together they went to exciting things like the Indianapolis 500 and the Inaugural Ball for one of the Alabama Governors (I forget which, but it may have been Jim Folsom Jr.). They divorced around 1985, but she remained an employee of his company where she was the Manager of Fagan Springs Apartments.

Fagan Springs was our home for 15 years, and Mom was good at property management. When circumstances caused her to have to move and change jobs in 1994, she worked for a short time with Oxford Properties and began dating Bill Stevens, who had recently became separated from his wife.

The circumstances that caused her to have to leave Fagan Springs were very traumatic to her, since she had built her life there (mostly) after recovering from Harold’s death. Loss was a theme throughout Mom’s life, whether it be losing a person or her possessions. It hurt her deeply, shaped her character, and later contributed to her developing dementia.

She and Bill hit it off and lived together 6 or 7 years before marrying. Mom was trusting and was a giver, and so when she signed a prenuptial agreement prior to marriage she trusted Bill and his lawyer to have provided for her in the case of his death. He died after around 7 years of marriage on January 20, 2007, and on January 22 she realized that he had not provided for her. She did not even get to retain her home. That was the final bit of stress and on that same day she developed aphasia for the first time (language confusion). We attributed it to stress, but later realized that it was the first manifestation of dementia. She was only 64 years old at the time.

Losing her home, and having no income (she retired when Bill asked her to), contributed to some of the behaviors that later manifested in a huge way during her illness. She hoarded odd things and was obsessed with her things. However, that ebbed and flowed and at times she would try to give away precious gifts or valuables to mere strangers. That was her giving nature coming out, just in a way that wasn’t so great.

Mom also lost many of her friends at the end of her marriage to Bill. While that is another story, the lack of support was hard in and of itself. She had always loved socializing, and like most people she liked attention. This was more of a blessing than a curse as the awkwardness of the disease began to set in, but the overall magnitude of loss affected her deeply.

In 2012 we brought Mom to live with us, and built a larger house to accommodate all of her things. We wanted her to feel loved and at home, but unfortunately the illness had made it impossible for her to enjoy family or even day to day life. She lived with us until February 14, 2014 when she went to live at the Windsor House skilled nursing facility here in Huntsville. She was loved and well cared for until she died there on December 29, 2014.

Mom and I had a complicated relationship that wasn’t always harmonious, but I try to keep in mind the “bad breaks” that life threw her way. I’m sure she was afraid, and felt alone, and did what she needed to do in order to have a little fun and provide for herself. I can now look back at who she was, and I regret the harshness I sometimes treated her with, because I see how awful her life circumstances were at times. At least I had the opportunity to tell her “I’m sorry” before she died.

In her last years, Mom was so distressed on a daily basis due to the dementia, that I wish her the joy and peace in her next place that her bracelet symbolized. Everyone deserves joy and peace, and love.

If you know anyone who has dementia or Alzheimer’s, I suggest that you read The 36 Hour Day as soon as you can get it from the book store. We did not know what was wrong with Mom for years. At first we thought it was stress, then just bad behavior or drunkenness. Later we thought it was schizophrenia and we were shocked to find out she had dementia. Even then, the way the brain “breaks” can make you think they are just being stubborn or flat out lying to you, but this book helped me to understand. If I had read it sooner, and known what she had, it would have made a huge difference in all of our lives. I also benefited from the Alzheimer’s Association website and forums. These memory diseases are awful for all involved, so make sure that you seek help if it applies.

In closing, I mentioned that I had grieved my Mom twice already. I grieved our complicated relationship, after years of being angry that I didn’t have the “mother I wanted or needed,” and moved on. But then I grieved her again when she got the dementia, because even the mother I did have was “leaving.” And now I grieve her a 3rd time, because she is truly gone now. But now I can look back to the lively, beautiful, and giving Mom that I had once and remember her that way. If you knew Linda, I hope you do the same.

Linda was cremated and her urn is buried next to Harold at Valhalla Memory Gardens in the original Chapel Gardens. Her legal name was Linda Ruth Stevens, but her marker will list her as Linda Ruth Hunt. Her Obituary is listed here. Enjoy the picture of the beautiful flowers that the Windsor House sent for her service.

windsorflowers

Jan 02

Looking Back

I would have liked to write this on December 31, but unfortunately as soon as I made arrangements with the funeral home for my mother I came down with a terrible cold. It was coming on the 30th, but held off until I had that done, then it hit me with full force. I have been in bed since sometime on New Year’s Eve, and I am still sick but also working off a NyQuil hangover. Why do they think it helps you to wake up refreshed?

So, shitty year. I have had many to say something like 2014 was so awful for you and your family, I hope 2015 is better. I can’t speak for Shaun but it won’t be for me. It’s like saying that you got sent to Hell, and so that was the worst part. Nope, because if you follow the storyline of Hell, you get there yes but then you burn, constantly, forever. I’ve never read a story about Hell where there were coffee breaks. And no it can’t be worse. What else besides the death of my child is worse? Nothing is the correct answer. I wake up and live and relive it daily. It sucks. Go on and add some fire, nothing changes.

Maybe some people “get off easier” than I have on this topic. I don’t know, but nothing much is lost on me including how every f”ing thing in 3rd dimensional life has now been ruined just by the simple fact of calendar dates. Here’s my timeline…

May 1-15 2014: Erin goes into hospital for unexpected surgery due to inflammation. While we are there, Shaun’s brother Greg is found dead. Our 17th wedding anniversary was on 5/11. We decided to celebrate anniversary with my birthday coming in August.

August 14, 2014: Erin died.

August 18, 2014: Erin’s service. My birthday 🙁

October 16, 2014: Mom’s birthday, first one celebrated without Erin.

October 31, 2014: First Halloween without Erin.

November 27, 2014: Thanksgiving without Erin. Shaun’s dad’s birthday. We did not celebrate with him.

December 11, 2014: Erin’s 11th birthday, without her.

December 25, 2014: First Xmas without Erin. Mom had been admitted to the hospital critically ill. We were out of the country trying to forget Xmas.

December 29, 2014: Returned from out of the country a day early. Mom died 10:23pm.

January 1, 2015: Shaun’s birthday, first without Erin as well as New Year’s Eve which we always celebrated as a family. Had it not been for the holiday, Mom would have been buried on his birthday but instead it will be January 3rd.

Looking forward to February 14: Put Mom in a nursing home that date in 2014. Tried to have a nice Valentine’s Day, but Erin was in so much pain. We were admitted to Children’s the first time on Feb 15, 2015 for what was to be the beginning of the end.

As you can see, this darkness has claimed every day that could or would have been special for normal people. You have to love the irony. I can’t even have a nice Memorial Day. That was the event of a nice trip Erin and I took with Anna Kate and her Mom in 2014.

I guess the question is now, how can I make the best of my own little slice of hell? I have no idea. I think I am already doing it day by day because otherwise I would not still be alive.

On Dying

Ugh, I don’t want to have to be with anyone else while they die. I have been with nearly all of my fur babies, and that was so hard. I have begged many times for them to just die in their sleep peacefully, but only Nicholas did that for me. I know it was his gift, because I could never have had him put to sleep. I would have made him a cyborg cat before losing him. Sounds like a joke but it’s not. I even considered having him cloned, but I didn’t have the money. The others, I had to hold them while they passed. And now both my daughter and mother have passed with me holding their hands in the last 5 months. Some may think the moment of dying is beautiful, but it’s a marking of the separation that we as 3rd dimensional beings cannot penetrate. And you wonder if they suffer, if they are afraid, and so many other things. I just don’t want to do it again. I will, because it’s the right thing to do, but I don’t want to.

On Being Alone

Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide wide sea!
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony.

If you read the passage above by Coleridge aloud, make sure to draw out the word agony so as to sound like Margaret Lawson, English Teacher Extraordinaire.

While it’s untrue that I have not had saints take pity (there have been many), I now have the realization that I am all alone. I have no immediate family except for Shaun. I have Aunts and Uncles and Cousins, but everyone who would traditionally be next of kin is gone. Did a gypsy put a curse on me as a baby? That wasn’t a joking question. I have no one to leave my assets to, my personal stuff, etc. No one. Well I don’t want it to go to the state so I will have to find some one, but you get the picture. Even when you don’t have a good or close relationship, when someone is alive it is a much different world view than when you are truly and utterly alone. But that just goes to show you that it’s all perspective doesn’t it? Social programming does the rest. I have now grieved my mother three times (I’ll write about that later), but this time is the final time. The sad thing is, I have nothing left to give in regards to grieving. I say it’s sad because I feel sorry for her spirit. Every soul wants their children to love them, and love is somewhat a measure of being sad someone is gone. Nonetheless everyone deserves to be loved. Everyone. No discussion. It’s the highest form of kindness that we can give. Yet every part of my spirit loves and yearns for my child. So yeah, I feel a tad bit “bad” or guilty.

In retrospect, 2014 has shown me much. While most of you know I am not religious, let’s not get hung up on terminology and look at the message in the poem below (author unknown):

I asked for strength and God gave me difficulties to make me strong.
I asked for wisdom and God gave me problems to solve.
I asked for prosperity and God gave me brawn and brains to work.
I asked for courage and God gave me dangers to overcome.
I asked for patience and God placed me in situations where I was forced to wait.
I asked for love and God gave me troubled people to help.
I asked for favors and God gave me opportunities.
I asked for everything so I could enjoy life.
Instead, He gave me life so I could enjoy everything.
I received nothing I wanted, I received everything I needed.

While it pains me to say it, this is exactly what I have gotten this year. I have begged the universe for wisdom, for strength, for courage, for love, and for peace. Mostly, for whatever I needed to be of service to the All. And what did I get? Not what I expected. I actually asked for everything conditionally, that Erin and Shaun be safe and healthy. That I not be asked to leave my family, or to have to worry about them. First and foremost I learned that I control nothing, but can adapt to most anything. I learned that I will never be given anything asked with conditions set upon it, or if I am given, it will not be what I thought I asked for. These are things that I already knew, but failed to acknowledge most of the time because of fear. That fear is gone now. It died August 14, 2014. I see the wisdom but am not sure that I can rise to the occasion to see it bear fruit.

These are just the musings of a sad, childless mother. Or should I say, no longer a mother, no longer a daughter, and probably at this point a poor excuse for a wife. If I could snap my fingers, I would go to the remotest sanctuary on the planet and live in robes and silence for the rest of this prison sentence. I don’t need for you to feel sorry for me, but I do want you to understand. And I guess I want to understand, or I wouldn’t bother to write.

The best I can hope for is better understanding and more wisdom in 2015. And a nice large piano to fall on my head next time I walk by a tall building. But I am not that lucky and must always do things the hard and long way.

Peace and Namaste,

#missingerin

 

Dec 22

Musings and Stuff…Mostly Stuff

Before I get off track, enjoy this front and back picture of the beautiful angel that my neighbor Kate L. gave us on Saturday. She said she looked for a fairy, because she knew Erin loved fairies, but they are “out of season.” This angel is beautiful though, and I know Erin will love it as much as I do. She loved all magical creatures, beautiful creatures, all creatures really.

angel1 angel2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I had to include the back because the wings are so pretty.

We leave early in the morning for our trip. It’s a working trip for me, because I used all of my leave while Erin was sick. But we won’t be here and that is all that I hope for. Anywhere but here. I feel obligated to tell the less honest that we have security guards in the neighborhood, and someone watching our house. And no gifts this year, so you won’t get anything except some jail time 🙂 That said…

I miss my baby so much that it is driving me nearly insane. I dreamed last night that I was telling Shaun I needed someone to mother. It was a longing so deep that I can still feel it from my dream. Before you ask, I’m not going out looking for a replacement child. The longing I feel is for Erin only and while another child would fill it, it would be momentarily. To each their own, but she was enough and always will be. I just want her, nothing else.

I have been pulling “positive” cards from my Souls Journey deck, although I can’t fathom why! Yesterday was Humor, today Happiness (I am aware that being happy means I am on the right track). How I am on the right track, or even remotely happy, I can’t see, but whatever. Humor, yes, that is totally me. It is my nature to find humor even in the face of sorrow.

I also want to include a picture of Elfie and Snowflake for those of you who don’t read the Missing Erin blog. elfiesnowflakeOh how she loved Elfie. She only had a few weeks to love Snowflake, but named her and loved her just the same last year. Elfie, though, she loved him as if he were her own sibling. She would cry every year when he would “leave.” One year she accidentally touched him and she cried and cried, afraid he would lose his magic or leave. I assured her that wasn’t the case, that she hadn’t “touched him enough,” and she was relieved the next day when he moved again.

Will I miss not having a tree, or decorations, or using my Christmas stuff? A little, but only because it brings memories of happy times for our family. We really gave it all away, except for what was Erin’s or what she loved. I have no heirs, no one to leave anything to, so I gave most of it to my Aunt and cousin so that at least the things that were my mother’s will stay with her family. Every memory reminds us of Erin, and her absence, and so there is no more happiness for me with any holiday. I have wanted to detach for years. Well here is my chance, albeit not something I would have chosen. If you are thinking how sad, well it is. And it will be, forever.

Shaun and I have had so many awful firsts this fall. She died, her service was on my birthday, my mother’s birthday and Halloween, and her Papa’s birthday and Thanksgiving, and her birthday, Christmas, and then Shaun’s birthday is coming up on 1/1. If you think your life sucks, come live mine for a day. This is cruel and unusual.

So I may not write much over the next week, but I will be back at it sometime soon. Hopefully you can enjoy your time off or with family. If I am lucky, I’ll either die on my plane ride or contract some deadly disease when I get there. If that were to happen, be happy for me because that means I’m happy once again. But don’t count on it. I don’t get off so easy and have always been made to do everything the hard way. I’m tired of that and it sucks. But that is my life.

Wish me some peace, and I’ll wish you some blessings. #missingerin