Sep 10

Woe

Funny that I typed “woe” as “wow.” Wow indeed, that I can possibly feel this much agony in a human body without being “physically sick.” I am in some sort of pain today. It built on yesterday I think, and honestly I woke up feeling pretty good compared, but then it just keeps getting worse. Is this what depressed people feel like all of the time? I cannot imagine going for too long with this feeling. No wonder the suicide rate is so high. I would hope, and maybe I’m wrong, that you can ultimately overcome your depression. But grief? How am I supposed to overcome this? I am unhappy because my daughter died. I can’t correct that. I cannot imagine being happy about it – ever.

I had a short reading yesterday with Lisa Gawlas, and among other things, she said that oddly (for her) instead of seeing imagery she heard a song. It was one I had not heard, and so I have been studying the lyrics carefully to find meaning. She also saw that it came from Erin, who was “with me” in the imagery the entire reading. The song is called Skyscraper by Demi Lovato. Now that I have told you all of that, I no longer know why I told you. But since I suppose there was a reason, the only other thing that comes to mind is that I am not sure if the “speaker” would be Erin, or me. Or maybe it’s a message for/from both of us? The lyrics are haunting for me (now), and I never thought that I would say that about a darn Demi Lovato song as I am not a fan. I wonder if Erin ever heard that song? Apparently Lisa had heard other people sing it on things like The Voice, but she had never heard Demi sing it. Anyway, interesting.

Again, no idea why I told all of you that right now, but it had an effect of getting me out of my aching heart and into my mind/head. That’s not really good grieving, but at least I feel somewhat better. For now.

I know I keep saying this, but the memories are everywhere. I got in the shower at lunch and could see Erin in my bathroom floor, after she would get out, sitting there wasting time instead of drying off. She would sit on the towels and play until I got out and made her get moving. I thought of how her Minecraft world is just sitting there without her, and how all of her online stuff would never get played with again. (Actually, I hope to maybe pass those on to someone, eventually). I wonder if anyone wonders where Puppy71 went in Minecraft? They haven’t seen her in a few months.

I thought of her now unused jackets. They are too small or I might wear them. I can’t make those into a quilt, as I don’t think they would work out. Her shoes – I can’t bear to look at her shoes. I woke up the other morning thinking of her blue winter coat that she’s had for the last two years. I wonder if she would finally grow out of this year? It was size 14. I bought them slightly too big, and her arms were long so she was wearing 14 shirts. Now why would a coat bring me such agony?

I have been told over and over, by regular people, by counselors, and by psychics and mediums, that Erin wants me to stop crying. She wants me to be happy. But I do not see how that is possible, because even if you do believe in a life after this one, being on this side is extremely hard when someone crosses over. Maybe they can see us, but we can’t see them usually. And if we could, they aren’t solid. Does that make them less? No, but it makes them inaccessible and untouchable. They say that the universe will give you what you desire if you are clear about it – that it conspires to do so. I wonder how that premise holds up to wanting your loved one back from the dead? I don’t think that one works here.

I wanted to title this “My Pity Party,” or “My Tale of Woe,” or something, but I hated to be overly dramatic so I just called it “Woe.” Still, I am having a pity party. I am really not sure what to do either. I am sad, miserable even. I’m tired of feeling this way. I want to feel better. Missing Erin makes me feel bad. You see the vicious circle I am inside here. I am the snake chasing its own tail.

Later today, I have a grief counselor appointment and also have to go pay the nursing home bill, which means I have to visit my mother. So I will arrive home either feeling better or much worse. While that sort of sounds stupid after I wrote it, the stress of the whole thing is likely to push me over the edge. If you pull up next to a blue Honda Civic with a lady boo-hooing inside, you will know it’s me.

 

Sep 10

The Hamster

hamperOr should I say, the Hampster. Erin always called her clothes hamper the hampster. As I was putting my own socks down the chute last night, I had to walk past her room and I thought of that. She had cute, silly nicknames for so many things. We had many funny stories about those to tell, some of which weren’t purposeful. For example, when she was little she would sing “Baa baa black sheep, have you any wolves?” Once when she was 2 or 3, I said “Honey, it’s wool not wolves.” To which she yelled at me “NO IT IS NOT!” and started crying. When I would tell her that story, she didn’t remember it and would laugh and smile!

When she would read books, she usually couldn’t pronounce the more complex names and would just make it up how she wanted it to sound. The one that comes to mind is the American Girl story about the two girls from New Orleans, and even when I would pronounce Marie-Grace’s name for her, she would just call her Murray or something similar. And she would say “I like that better.” LOL I wish I could tell you how many times I had to remind her that when she was reading she had to read it how the author wrote it. But she would just paraphrase, even when reading out loud. It drove me nuts, but I knew she understood it because she could paraphrase it, right there on the fly.

It seems that yesterday was a day for memories. The little ones, the ones that pop up when you just open a cabinet or pass something. There were few things in Erin’s room and life that she didn’t assign attachment and meaning to. That was why, when Shaun would ask her to donate some items to make room for more, that it was so hard for she and I to pick things to give. Sometimes it was clear there was no attachment, but most of the time there was some significance. I can look around her room now and remember that attachment. I plan to write it all down with pictures, in a scrapbook of sorts. I don’t want time to make me forget.

You know I have met with a Medium. I also have several friends with clairvoyant ability, and have been seeing another Seer for healing purposes. In every reading, etc. Erin shows up. And the message has been the same – she is there with you, and she wants you to know that. And while sometimes I can sense her, it is little consolation. I miss her so much in this physical world, that it makes me cry big tears. Even if this was the greatest spiritual lesson ever experienced on Earth, how does a parent get through this? I suppose there is an answer, but I cannot yet see the doorway to get to it.

You see, it’s not the memories that I hate. The memories make me smile, if only for a second. The sadness comes because I wanted to make more memories. More WITH Erin, not without her.

Now I want to share some memories that I hold dear. The first is a “grocery list” that Erin made I think in the spring of 2013. I believe that Anna Kate didn’t move until February 2013 and this was written after she was missing her. Also, disregard the blueberry muffins written in ink at the bottom. My mother, who had dementia, thought it was a real grocery list 🙂

Erin_grocerylist_2013

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Next, here are pictures from Erin’s first belt test at Alexander’s. It was for the yellow belt, and these were kindly sent to me by Elena Barbre, who had two sons in Erin’s class.

Erin_yellowbelttest_08201She would have been a second degree blue belt now, but she never progressed past orange belt due to having to start and stop. But when she would start, she would successfully earn her stripe. She was bummed about about the whole thing when we would discuss it. She was actually pretty good at karate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last, here are items that A New Leash On Life posted today on their FaceBook page (for sale). We donated a good bit of what was in the left side of this picture. It made me sad to donate, happy to see it, but there is no way that i can celebrate Halloween without my baby. I kept a few special things and donated the rest. I hope they make another family happy.

ANLOL_canterdonations

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As I finished up this post, I cried my eyes out. Funny how I am fine one minute then another minute I am in tears. I am so sad, and I miss her. And knowing that this situation is permanent, it is killing me. That sums it up completely.

 

Sep 09

It Only Takes a Minute

For the last hour, I have struggled. I started off the day pretty well this time. I only cried for a little bit. Then I fixed me some food, which required me to go into the kitchen.

The first thing I saw was the cat sitting on the table. That’s a spot she loves, and she would sit there with Erin in the mornings while she ate her breakfast. I try not to notice that her seat is empty. The few times Shaun and I have sat at the table, I sit in her seat. I don’t want to look at it.

Then I opened the pantry. The middle shelf is no devoid of “her food.” There are no traces of here in the pantry now. Well, except her two lunch boxes on the top shelf. And the box of popcorn. I think of her then, because we ate a big bowl as a family for a snack every evening.

Then I mixed up a flavored water, and got into the straw drawer. She had an entire drawer full of different straws. Well, those made me cry.

And now I have just come across an email to my personal box, talking about breathing. It was a spiritual article, about breath work to be exact. I had to stop reading when it mentioned that you can only live a few minutes without breath. I know that. I watched her die.

As I decided to come write, I heard the old song that goes “It only takes a minute, girl, to fall in love. To fall in love!” It probably took Erin about that long to die to be honest. And it took much less than that for me to fall to pieces today. Maybe just a split second actually. Those small things, they broke me.

I cannot tell you how much I miss her, because I can’t put it into words. There are no words for it. There are no words for how I feel. There are none. If I could touch you and show you how I feel, you would recoil in agony. I am sure of it, because I would if the roles were switched.

In an effort to take my mind off of “this,” I want to make a list of things that I thought of last night that I would have shared with Erin when she was older. I don’t’ know why I thought of them. There were just some things that had to wait.

  • Caddyshack
  • SouthPark and Mr. Hankey
  • Aqua Teen Hunger Force
  • All of the Super Hero (Marvel, X Men, etc.) movies – she didn’t like adult themed stuff
  • Giving her a YouTube account, and FaceBook. She begged, and I never would say yes. Too dangerous for a 10 year old.
  • Explaining the truth about Santa, and the Tooth Fairy, and the Bunny.
  • Shaving her legs and makeup, and starting her period. We were close to the period, I could tell by her eye rolling!
  • Liking boys. She did not like boys yet, but I could tell a few of them intrigued her.
  • Her first concert – well aside from the Wiggles ones we went to when we were young. I would have loved to take her, but you can’t take a kid that age to an adult concert.
  • She never went to an Auburn football game, or even to Auburn to visit. She wouldn’t have lasted a quarter, and it is so expensive, so we put it off. But she wanted to go to Auburn. I overheard her talk to a friend about it.

Basically, we had a lot of unfinished business, in my book anyway. I saved a receipt from the pretzel place in Parkway Place that was dated February 2014, right before her first Children’s admission. I don’t know if it was last fall or this spring, but I bought her first pretzel and she loved it. It was our thing, to go to the mall and get one. The last mall visit, we were busy, and knew we had to eat when we left. So we didn’t get a pretzel, and I am sad about that. I found the Feb. receipt yesterday in my wallet, and I will keep it forever, and I will think of how we would sit in front of it or the Pottery Barn and eat our pretzels, and then go shop.

During moments like these, it almost kills me to breathe. I just want to die and forget all of this horrible business. But the tears will subside like they do, and I will go on without her. And maybe tomorrow will be better, or maybe it won’t.

Sep 09

Pain to Peace, Parts 3 & 4

I wasn’t sure what I was going to write this morning, because I have some other thoughts swirling around, but I think they need more time to cook before they come out. Yet here I am. So on to the Pain to Peace section taken from Turning the Corner on Grief Street, by Terri Daniel…

Premise number 3 in the chapter is “We realize that only to the extent to which we expose ourselves to annihilation, can that which is indestructible be found in us.” She goes on:

“The more vulnerable we are, the more we are willing to risk, the more information and guidance we will receive, and the faster change and expansion will manifest.”

If you aren’t open to different perspectives, this is probably way past where you are willing to go if you are upset, angry, grieving, etc. To grab hold of this, you really have to understand that your soul co-created a situation and that you need to learn from it. Here is my personal perspective.

When Erin was in ICU, I was very vulnerable. Honestly I was willing to risk everything I had ever done in this lifetime, and others, to save her. I admit that I am unclear how this state helped me to receive more guidance, etc. If anything it kept me focused on my goal of her living and coming home. But after she died, I had lost everything of value. None of this material BS means anything to me. Paying the bills, my job – all meaningless. These are all things that can be replaced. I can get new things, a new job, a new house or car, but I cannot get a new child. So I am completely vulnerable in one sense, because I am in new territory. This landscape is foreign to me, and I have no idea where to go, where I am, or even who I am at this point. I DO know that if I do this wrong, like if I become bitter or treat others badly or something, I will be building a future that I am not going to like. So I am willing to risk whatever it takes to get through this, in the best possible manner, and to not have to do it again. And I have asked for a lot of guidance, and a fast track through it. Hey, I jump in with both feet on everything. Let’s get this crap over with.

Premise number 4 is “We learn that bad news, pain, fear, loss and tragedy are actually very clear moments that teach us to lean in and feel rather than to back away from feeling and experiencing. And in that sense, tragedy can be seen as good news, not bad.” In all honesty I disagree with this in how it is written, but let her explain:

“Lean in! What a beautiful expression. To lean in to pain rather than pull away from it looks something like this… you’re diagnosed with cancer, your 14 year-old daughter is pregnant, you’ve lost all your money in the stock market and you lose your job. You’ve tried everything you can to change these circumstances, but it isn’t working. Do you kick and scream and resist and fight and rage and vent and blame? Sure you do… for a while. And then you wake up and deal with it. You lean into it and ask it to engulf you. You receive it in its entirety. And you find that it leads you to a whole set of astonishing new possibilities that you might not have ever imagined. You lean in to even the worst imaginable scenario, and you ultimately are led to that place of fearlessness and egolessness, because the worst imaginable thing has already happened. Where else is there to go? The alternative is helplessness, powerlessness and victimhood.”

Ah, there it is. The worst imaginable thing has already happened. Speaking from this experience, that is where I am. It has happened. I did try to control it. I then shut myself down. But as of yesterday, I realized that I have to DO THIS THING. I know I can’t grieve unless I grieve. I don’t want to stop, I don’t want to put it off. I want to get it the F over with and move on. That doesn’t mean I will ever forget, or lose my emotional connection to my daughter, but cannot live here on Grief Street. It’s miserable.

Right now, I am still experiencing victimhood, helplessness, and powerlessness. I go between “I can do this” and those other things. In the book she goes on to discuss lamentations, such as those in many of the Psalms, and their tremendous value. I suppose that I am also practicing my own brand of lamentations, right here and right now. Who hears me? Is anyone out there? Even if no one is, it’s being “heard aloud” on the web by its very presence. I may not be speaking to someone, but I am definitely lamenting.

I just realized, too, that I never would have wanted Erin to be a victim, powerless, or helpless. I spoke to her a lot about growing up to be a strong young woman. It irritated the hell out of her, and really, she was not strong in the same way that I ever was and clearly didn’t want to be. But she would not have wanted me to be those things either. I feel as if I need for the fires of grief to go ahead and engulf me, and burn me down to ashes so that I can be reborn again, like a Phoenix. I thought I already had been, but I see now that I have been holding back a little. I’m ready now. In typical “me” fashion, I’m ready to jump in with both feet and work this process. I have to. I cannot live here, where I am now, on Grief Street.

Thank you Terri Daniel for writing that book.

 

Sep 08

Thoughts Inspired by Baby Emily

Ah, what timing. As I begin typing this, a school bus arrives with the kids from next door, and just the idea that someone’s kids are coming home is downright painful for me. But that isn’t a reality that I can get away from, and I am glad their kids are safe and home.

So back to my thoughts. What were they again? It’s funny how spirit will just take over and slam a message right into you at a moment’s notice. If I didn’t see the message in that one, I think I would definitely not be paying attention. But I digress, again.

Today I have had a decent day, if you consider decent barely keeping a lid on the elephant sitting on my heart and on the tears that are just below the surface. A good friend came over and cleaned our house, and I think I wasted around an hour of her time crying. At one point she cried too. I gave her Erin’s Halloween straws, and her Easter straws which have pink bunnies on them. I swear I could hear Erin say “give these to baby Emily and her brothers.” So I was glad her mommy took them.

Each time that baby Emily was ever mentioned, Erin would say “She’s so cute! She’s such a cute chubby baby!” Her voice would get loud and she would smile a huge smile as she said it. She always loved seeing babies, but there was something about this baby that Erin really was enamored with. Emily’s mommy said that once when Erin visited with another friend (without me), Emily responded in a unique way to her too (at around 3 months old). Well, Erin was just special. I guess I have to accept that, and I don’t mean it in a negative way. All children are special, you know, and I don’t want to assume mine was the only special one.

I did find that last night and this morning, it is extremely hard to go into Erin’s bedroom. That whole corner of the house… too painful. Then something draws me in, and then I cry some. I was moved to put her urn on top of her dresser. Sometimes I get an idea and an actual picture forms in my mind, always from what I call spirit. And so I knew where she wanted it, and while I don’t know why I made sure to keep my promise a few days ago and I brought it upstairs and put it there. Now I get the idea that she wants me to take a picture, and I will, but later.

I also know that Erin’s spirit wants me to give baby Emily something of hers, but I’m not sure what yet. I had an overwhelming feeling come over me today about that. At this point, changing anything (even giving away straws) is extremely hard because it’s all that I’ve got left. But, I don’t want to let myself get into that psychosis, so I will get to it one day. She also wants Emily’s brothers to have something, again not sure what yet. She loved that entire family and was very at home playing with 3 boys. It was always fun for her when we or they visited.

I am crying now as I type this, but mostly because all of these kids will grow up and Erin will not. I am really sad about that. Sad for me of course. Sad for all that I will miss out on, and sad for what she will miss. Everyone’s life will soon return to normal if it hasn’t already, but mine never will be again. And that just sucks, you know? It really does. I think that sums it up nicely.

Don’t get me wrong – I am grateful for all that she DID get to do and everyone that she knew. I hope her life wasn’t just a blip on the screen here on planet Earth. I hope it was indeed special.

 

Sep 08

Pain to Peace Pt. 2

I am not feeling so hot right now, which is why I picked up my “pen and paper” and got right to it this morning. The second point in the Pain to Peace chapter, is called We Invite In What We Would Usually Try to Avoid. Here is the sub text:

“When faced with intense pain, we instinctively recoil from it, saying, “please make this go away, I’m not ready for this, I don’t want this.” Imagine that instead of resisting, we said instead, “OK, I will receive this. What’s in this that I need to know? Let it come, I will accept, and I will follow this path with openness and trust.”

ACK! This is exactly what a higher perspective would say, but how hard is it to do that? VERY is my answer. I think that I can say with some certainty that during Erin’s illness I had my head stuck in the sand. Well maybe I did not, but Shaun seemed to know that it would end badly, and yet I had no clue. In fact when he would “get upset” I would get angry. I pushed that pain away and resisted. In the scheme of things I don’t think we could have done more, but I sure pushed it away. I pushed it away during the ICU stay, up until I heard her say “Bye Mommy” that night in my semi-dreamstate.

I guess maybe that is a bad example, as losing my child is on the extreme end of the “what could happen” spectrum of painful events. And as hard as it is for me to embrace it, that paragraph IS my world view. I have experienced those revelations and lessons learned personally, and so, I have faith that this is how it works.

I understand this with my head. And I am laying this out for you right now, with my head. The trick is getting my heart on board. I was working on trust before Erin died. And I thought I had finally “gotten there.” But how blind is it for me to think that restoring MY daughter to health, is in the highest good for the EVERYTHING? Pretty blind, and pretty selfish. I get that in my head. My heart, not so much.

I have to find a way to embrace and trust in the idea that this is the greatest lesson I will ever learn as a soul, and thus is the greatest gift that Erin could have given me. I have to find a way to follow this path that I am on now, after her death, and find acceptance and trust. That is a tall order for anyone, let alone someone who is heart broken.

As my previous post mentioned, I have found some value. I have seen glimpses of the gift. And I understand this wonderful way that the universe works. For now, I have to figure out how to get past the “I don’t care! This sucks! I want my baby back!” so that I can move on to the “OK, What do I need to know?” Well, I am already asking that, but I suspect I am still resisting.

I will write again later today. I hope this Pain to Peace information is helpful to you.

 

Sep 07

Pain to Peace, Theoretically

The title, Pain to Peace, is the title of a section of the book I mentioned yesterday (Turning the Corner on Grief Street by Terri Daniel). I read the entire book by the way already. It gave me some comfort, and it was constructive. She writes it from a higher perspective, so if you are grieving and you aren’t ready to find any value in your life situation, this book isn’t for you.

I do want to stop here for a minute and say, that yes I am absolutely looking for meaning and value in the experience of Erin’s death. There HAS to be value in this, value for my soul’s growth and for hers. If not, then this is just a cruel, awful world and nothing that we do in our life matters. So yeah, I’m looking for answers, meaning, value, and anything else I can find. And that’s my higher perspective. I do not want to wake up in 10 years, or 20 years, and still live my life around this grief. I love Erin, and I will never forget ANY of this. But I do not want to live here on “Grief Street” forever. Where would the value in that be?

With that said, I find it interesting that during our ICU stay, Chaplain Mark at Children’s of Alabama came in one day and gave me a “worry stone,” and he had ordered them printed with many different mantras. He said that he was going to give me another one but he pulled out Peace, and wondered if that spoke to me. It did. For as long as I can remember, I have wanted peace in my life. I have had very little of it. I grew up with utter chaos and debauchery in my home, entered adulthood dysfunctional and full of my own drama, and without boring you with the in-between, I was burdened with my mother after 2007 when her husband died and left her destitute. In 2012 she moved in with us, with dementia, and we hoped that when we moved her to a nursing home in 2012 we would have PEACE. We did not, because Erin was sick, and it was a roller coaster. I needed peace so that I could find strength and balance while we were in the hospital. With peace I could overcome whatever I had to face, because then I could be more than just on autopilot. If you have ever meditated or something, you know what I mean. You connect with your soul and the universe (or God if that helps you to understand).

As you know I still do not have peace. And yes, I have considered that I am doomed to live a shitty ass life full of conflict, drama, and sadness. Why has so much happened to me? Ok, that’s victim mentality. Let’s remove the “to me” and let me restate – Why have so many upsetting things happened during this lifetime? I feel like a rat in someone’s maze. I perform then they change the maze on me. It stinks.

But I digress. Let me return to this lovely book that I enjoyed so much. She identified some items that help us through grief from a higher, more enlightened perspective. They weren’t foreign to me, but I did find her explanations helpful. The first one is, that we use painful situations to wake us up rather than put us to sleep. By we, she means our soul. This assumes that you have a belief that as she puts it, our life plans are done by “our own intention, our own higher selves or souls or God.” Let me just quote the entire paragraph:

“This means that we can choose to become angry and bitter, to shut people out, to feel victimized and to live a disconnected life ruled by fear. That would be sleep. Or we could learn to notice all the miraculous events that occur around the edges of any painful experience and realize that these events are roadmaps leading to new possibilities. Taking it one step further, it is, in fact, our own intention, or own higher selves or souls or God, whatever we choose to call it, that brought forth the painful situation and created its gifts in the first place.”

When I began writing this evening, I was very raw and had been crying for a little while. I had been playing the game Diablo with Shaun, but instead of enjoying it the last area we played through I had continuous flashbacks of the one day that they woke Erin from her induced coma. I could see her open her eyes, and move her arms and legs. I could see her nodding her head that she heard me. I do not know what I said to her, though. I remember smiling. I left that evening and went to the hotel to sleep, thinking she was better, and arrived the next morning to find out they re-induced the coma. She was never conscious again, and I never got a second chance to speak with her. It breaks my heart, and I wish I had told her so many things. I honestly, at least consciously, had no idea that would be the last time we would see each other as two awake, conscious people. I feel that I wasted it, that I didn’t comfort her enough, that Mommy wasn’t there. I wasted her last day before the coma too. My cousin and Aunt were there, and I visited with them for a few hours outside of the room. How could I not have known how serious this was? How could I not have seen it coming? This is something only I can get past, for myself. I am not done grieving.

I am not done grieving. But I know what I need to do, and I know other things too. I know that I have already received gifts from her death that I would not have received otherwise.

  • Her death left me empty, as if someone had completely burned me up to nothing but a shell. I now have the opportunity to move forward without some baggage I previously carried. Realizing that none of the crap I focused on prior was important, I can move forward without it. For example, I seemed to have a focus on lack of money before. Now I could care less – the fear is gone. I have nothing of value to lose. Things are just things, and I can get new things. I cannot replace Erin. What else is there to fear losing? What else was more important? The answer is nothing.
  • I reconnected in a loving, kind, positive way with old friends, some of who I haven’t seen or spoken to in many years. Their kindness has been overwhelming. I met new friends, some who just happened upon our story, and I have had the same experience with them. Erin’s spirit just lit up the kindness out there and showed it to me in a huge way. I admit I had become jaded about people, because us Humans have the tendency to suck. I am now filled with gratitude.
  • I have been forced into change. Change, sometimes, comes harshly as it has for me. But change always brings about, well, change. It’s up to me what I do with it. Perhaps if she had been here, I would not become whomever I am to become. What if I was the one that brings world peace, and I don’t because I had a child at home I don’t want to leave, or because I feared for her safety? Yes, I know, unlikely examples but they made the point. I have no idea who I am going to become, but I hope that I honor her with whatever it is.

I can’t come up with anything else constructive right now, as this has made me cry some and I’m emotional. I am still grieving. I am still very sad, and I still would give up absolutely anything to have her back. But I know that’s not happening in this timeline, and since there are no time-travel machines handy, I know I have to move on without her. I still don’t know how, or when, or even if I will succeed in doing that.

Tomorrow I’ll include the second item in this chapter of the book. I think it will give me a lot to talk about and ponder.

Sep 06

The Hike and After

Well I took no pictures of my hike. I don’t know why but I completely forgot. It was hot, and I am out of shape and thus was sweaty and out of breath when I got to the place where I knew I was going to sit for awhile. I ended up sitting in the dirt! There was a butterfly in front of a tree, next to the trail I was on, so I plopped down right there.

I had been sitting a minute when I heard traffic, and a nice man who lives in the neighborhood was coming towards me. Once he went on his way, I set the intention to be alone. I stated out loud that this was deeply personal and I needed to be alone. And after that, I was.

I got out my big crystal that I brought, a candle, and Erin’s small green monkey (she has a bigger version of the same green monkey so this is the “small” one). I don’t know why, but I knew he wanted to come with me. I had caught glimpses of her my entire trek in my mind’s eye. She liked to hike and would have been with me if she was here.

It was really pretty on the trail that I hiked on. I did my communing, and then I called a friend who lives in CA as she was going to do some energy work on me. It was perfect, as I just got a signal in the spot I sat in. Also, I had a few ants and one yellow jacket who were interested in me, but nothing crawled on me and I wasn’t dirty either when I got up 45 minutes later.

I have found that the energy work I’ve had done, it opens things up so to speak. When I was on the phone with June, I felt fine. I smiled. I got emotional a few times but nothing bad. Afterward, I had a sense of loss. I had the same sense of loss after my shower and salt bath when I got home. I got into the bed, and it took me awhile to get out because I was depressed again, and I realized that I was having another panic attack. The mind knows she is gone. The heart hopes it’s not true. And then it breaks again and again when I realize that it is.

So I’m having a bummer of an afternoon. I feel somewhat better right now than I did when I got up out of the bed, but I don’t feel great. I feel somewhat desperate, like what I suspect a drug addict feels. I NEED to get her back. I need to see her, to feel her, and to hear her.

Part of my healing journey is to not just know, but to KNOW, that the soul essence does not die. Well, I know that. I even almost KNOW that (as in, with my heart). I’ve been taught that anyway, and I have a strong belief that it’s true. I should say that I keep getting signs…for example today near the end of my hike, I was thinking of Erin and Diana (the goddess), also known as Artemis to the Greeks. She was the protector of animals, and she is always seen with a deer. I have mentioned that right after Erin died, literally an hour, I saw a female deer who was close and unafraid. I knew it was “her” speaking to me. Going back to the end of my hike, I was looking down at the dirt road I was coming back in on, and thinking this, and I heard a noise and 20 feet in front of me a female deer looked at me and jumped across the road. The timing was impeccable, and I knew it was her responding to my thoughts. I KNEW. But then I got sad. And even if she is here, I no longer could feel, see, hear, or sense that. Since it’s all I’ve got, I need to find a way to keep those connections open.

This grief thing is no joke. If I were talking to friends, I’d say “It sucks a big one.” I realize that I am not, but these feelings are so strong I feel as if I am grieving for all of humanity to feel and learn from. I feel that my grief is radiating outward like a sonic boom and affecting everyone with reach of me. And I should care about that, but I can’t seem to bring myself to care much. I am accepting and taking and absorbing whatever I can to keep my head above water. Since people keep telling me what a strong person I am, what do people who are not strong do? What do they go through? How do they survive?

I am ashamed that I keep grieving, and that I keep talking about my grief. I suppose that is part of the stigma of the “crying female,” the depressed, and the mentally unstable. Our society doesn’t know what to do with grief. Hell, I didn’t. I have been around crying people and been completely confused about their emotions. The thought was “Oh crap, what do I do here? Oh, here’s a tissue. Do you need to go somewhere private to cry?” I guess no wonder my throat chakra area is closed up, because not only was I not expressing some of my own feelings I was also suppressing others (even if indirectly).

Now, after all of this, I know that today I need to work on the emotion of shame. I need to process that, and release myself from blame for feeling it. I need to allow myself to speak from my heart, and not just what is “appropriate.” The irony here is that I usually speak my mind. In fact, I have a hard time keeping it in. But those are usually strong emotions of irritation, frustration, anger, etc. It’s harder for me to initiate other types of speech – because of shame (or embarrassment). Wow I just figured that out.

It’s beneficial and it gives me something to do. Keeping busy is not beneficial to the grieving process, but sometimes you just need a life raft while you float to shore.

Sep 06

This Morning’s Thoughts

butrflisI forgot to post this picture yesterday, but as I was leaving my reiki appointment I passed a car that had a tag saying Butterfly (in tag code anyway). The reminders are nice, because I was darn sad all day yesterday. I don’t know why one day may be better than another. I am sad today, too, but  not in the same way. I think maybe the reiki helped me to release a lot of emotion yesterday because it poured out all day long, even until I went to sleep last night.

I received a new grief book that I ordered in the mail yesterday. It’s called Turning the Corner on Grief Street by Terri Daniel. I found her website when I was searching for what they call “after death communication.” Everyone has an opinion on that and I honor yours. However, I know that it is real and yet I seem to be blocked in my despair from accessing that for myself right now. At any rate, so far her book is pretty good. It is discussing the value and gifts you receive from grief. That fits with my own thoughts that every situation (bad, good, etc.) has value and you have to be open to finding it, otherwise you may end up bitter and a victim. The bottom line is that my brain is now back on track to go the right direction, but my heart is making frequent pit stops along the way. Oh, the subtitle is “Loss and Bereavement as a Journey of Awakening.” I think that sums it up nicely.

I have said already that I do not want to waste this opportunity for growth and healing. For whatever reason, Erin died, and I need to honor both her and myself and make the most of this. Again, brain knows, heart does not know. The heart is very powerful so I need to get it on board.

Today Shaun is golfing, and I am going into nature to reconnect with the Creator and the All That Is. I have been shown in my minds eye where to go, what to do, and what to bring. Basically I am going to go to a pretty place, and be in nature, and I suppose perform my version of what you might call prayer. And to be honest, I am procrastinating right now writing this, and I should already be gone. So if you are reading, give me a mental push and get me out the door (because it’s likely to take me another hour!).

This day by day stuff is really a bummer. Minute by minute, hour by hour, it’s a drag. I’ll try to take some pretty pictures during my hike and post them later. I was up where I am going last Wednesday, and there were deer and lots of deer tracks. Did I mention that the night Erin died, we got to our hotel and there was a female deer eating the plants right in front of the hotel? She loved animals. Maybe that was her spirit 🙂

Sep 05

Terrible Transitions

butterfly girl 2I woke up around 4am to a dream, and a headache. I think the headache was sinus related, but the dream, gave me heartache. There was more to it than I remember, but I became consciously aware in the dream when I was riding in the back of a black SUV, being chauffeured by someone who I do not remember. I told the person to stop at this particular house. My mom’s 2nd husband’s oldest son, Jay, was in the yard with a dog. I think it might have been a doberman, and my mom’s 2nd husband had them before they married so I guess my psyche remembered. Suddenly I started thinking, well it has been awhile, I guess Puppy has died. I really did not know how long it had been (been since what?!), but I didn’t say anything until suddenly I see Puppy in the yard. I was so happy! And I said come here Puppy, and he jumped into the back seat with me. Jay said something, and I said well you know you were only supposed to keep him while we searched for Erin. He was about to argue with me, as I petted Puppy, and I woke up.

For a split second I thought she was still here, and that we were looking for her. Then I knew, and I was really overcome with grief. At 4 in the morning. With a headache. As you can see I have started my day splendidly.

Well there is more symbolism in there that I need to ponder. When my mother did divorce that husband, we left behind a pet cockatiel that Jay ended up with. I never understood or realized why we left the bird, as he was my pet, or why we didn’t ask for him back. It was like a bit of amnesia. And when I “woke up” enough to ask, too many years had gone by. I guess my point is that my mind must be making sense of this time of transition. But boy, it hurt. It wasn’t very helpful at all.

I went to bed sad too. Yesterday wasn’t a good day. Memories didn’t help, they just plain hurt. I have flashbacks too, mostly of the time we got to ICU just before she was put into the medical coma, some of the time in between, and the moments of her death. I wish those would lessen. Those are very painful too and they just come up at inopportune times.

The picture above was sent to me by one of my oldest friends on the day of or day after Erin passed. She said she really felt that image and had a strong urge to send it. After I posted about the butterflies, she told me that before she read that post, she had the urge to send it again but didn’t. Then when she read the post she did re-send. Another friend said yesterday she saw Erin running in a sundress in the water with butterflies all around. So I sent it to her. I guess Erin really wants us to have this image of her in our minds. She showed herself to me a few times “hovering” over some water, playing. I’m glad she is happy.

I have to follow that up with “I wish I was.” I say that in response to a comment on another friend’s post yesterday by someone I don’t know. This other friend lost her son in a tragic accident. I have only come to know her recently but it’s clear that she’s at least as sad as I am, and I understand completely. But her commenter, said something like “oh don’t be sorrowful be happy and tell people he is happy and with the angels when they ask.” Uh, really lady? Don’t be sorrowful? Be happy? Let’s kill off your kid and then you practice what you preach. I know – that was really ugly. But there are some comments I can’t respond gracefully to and that is one of them. I wish I didn’t know my friend’s pain, but I do, and this commenter lady hasn’t got a clue.

It’s pretty obvious that most people don’t know what to say at transition periods in others’ lives (i.e., tragedy, terrible periods). I really don’t know either, but I can at least just say “I’m sorry” and leave it at that. Truthfully, I am sorry that someone else has to go through pain. Perhaps we use the word sorry too interchangeably, because what I mean is, “It hurts me that you have to experience pain.” But I think most of us “get it” when someone says “I’m sorry.”

Anyway, I am having a rough time. But you wouldn’t believe what writing does for me. Sometimes as I write these, I just cry huge tears. They roll down my face and I have to stop and wipe them off. Sometimes I can’t see the screen. Today, for some reason, instead of crying I am seeing perspective. But I asked myself when will this end? And the answer is NEVER. That is the crappy thing about it. Never. I will never experience a normal life. I cannot go back to “before Erin” nor can I go back to “life with Erin.” I am forever changed. I don’t know my place in this world anymore. I can still be an effective leader, because I know all of the right things to do and say. But will I be hollow and devoid of purpose? You can see my conundrum. I will leave it at that today because I am truly lost and don’t know what other words to say to myself in order to move forward. Wish me luck.