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Today is the 2nd anniversary of the death of my daughter Erin.  She was 23 years old, married for 4 years, college graduate looking forward to beginning graduate school, just began a job doing phone counselling for people who wanted to quit smoking.  She had a seizure during the night that took her life.  Her husband works nights, and found her dead when he got home from work on Thanksgiving morning.

There are so many things that I miss, that I won't even try to list them.  What I am feeling today though I just don't know how to deal with, so I am writing it down here.  I don't expect any answers, but at least putting it down in black and white will get it out of my head.

This is such a hard day.  I have tried to tell myself that it is just another day, nothing to get worked up over.  It doesn't work, especially when I am alone and can not keep myself constantly distracted.  I came home from work, turned on the TV, but when I had to take the dog for a walk, my mind went to all the "friends" that I have who, even though they know Erin died on Thanksgiving, have not given me a call or anything.  My husband divorced me a year before Erin died, my other 2 children have adjusted pretty well to the loss, and they are grown up with their own lives and lots of stuff to distract them if they do have a hard time.  I am so lonely and sad, I don't think I will ever be at peace again. 

I am the kind of person who doesn't like to ask for help.  I have spent my life being self sufficient.  If I have a problem, I work it out myself.  So now that I need help, I don't have a clue about how to ask for it.  The reason I am writing this here is because I have one friend I could call, but I don't want to spend another night crying on the phone with her.  There isn't anything she can do, so I would just upset her. 

It hurts so much when people who say they are a friend ignore such a hard day.  I know that they have no idea how hard it is, and I have not asked for their help.  I guess I just answered my own question. 

There is  a giant hole in my life that will never be filled.  I feel as though God is cruel  or doesn't know what he is doing.  It should have been me.  Erin was a person who was driven to achieve her goals, and most of her goals were things that would help others.  She wanted to get a degree in Marriage and Family Therapy.  She was interested in politics and the environment.  She wanted to become a foster parent.  Why would God take a person like that away from this world?  What good did my prayers for my children's safety all those years do?

This is just another day, just like yesterday, and just like tomorrow.  Days with good things and bad things, happiness and sadness, but in the background, always the pain of loss and the sorrow of not seeing Erin's potential fulfilled, and not sharing joy with her as she reached her goals.

I miss you Erin.  I love you.


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I just read your post and I had to respond.  I can't imagine what you have been through.  You are so right to want answers to the questions you have proposed.  You sound like me when I was in my first year- after the loss of my wonderful son, Chris (19).  I wanted to know why my friends didn't call me on holidays or birthdays... it made no since to me.  I was so angry and lonely.  I wanted to know why God took such a wonderful person from this world- when it was filled with evil people.  Life was so dark back then...

It will be 6 years this January 4, since I lost my son.  He died from injuries sustained in a snowmobile accident.  He was perfect in so many ways.  I no longer ask the questions that I did in the first couple of years.  I know that God doesn't have anything to do with death- He has to do with the hope of the "after life".  God is about energy never dieing...  we never die- per say.  I know now that my son's physical body is no longer with me, but his energy still lives in a realm that I can't see or hear.  My mind's eye see's him.... but my physical eye can't.  Think of radio waves... or cell phone waves... they exist, but the only way we know is that we use them- we have physical evidence (we are so about what we can see).  I don't want to get off track, or to scare you, but life doesn't end.  It ends as we know it- but there is more. 

I am forever changed from my loss.  I have a life that holds both happy memories and sad memories.  I no longer have just complete happiness, but I have learned to live with what happiness I allow myself to have.  I hold both of my children in my heart- one is here and was is "there".  I straddle both worlds... I do life... until I too am called home.  For, everybody will die (that's how I know that God doesn't choose- because we will all die).... some earlier than they should and others much later than they should, but one thing is forsure- we will all die.  It seems so harsh to say that, but it helped me wrap my mind around LIFE.  If I am going to die... and I could be with my son (anytime), than I better get busy in this LIFE and enjoy my living child- for he may be alone sooner than I am ready for him to be alone.  Death will come to us all... and we will all be together in Eternity much longer than we are together on Earth-  and that's the message that God wants us to pass on. 

You will make new friends and you may even reach out to old friends.  But, I do know one thing- I chose to keep people away.  It hurt too much when they didn't do what I thought they should do- after all, I lost my son.  Yet, looking back- they didn't know what I wanted them to do and they didn't dare attempt to try and be wrong because that could be more painful.  When I did finally open my heart back up, it was with the expectancy that they couldn't make me feel better.... and that I just needed a friend... a time away from my grief.  Slowly, with time, I allowed myself to take more and more breaks from my grief.  In that process I learned that I could hold joy and pain in the same space in my heart.  Eventually, my grief started to morph... life started to change and my pain started to ease.   This is a process though and you have to allow yourself to find pockets of joy... 

Life has a new meaning- it will never be the same.  But, I do enjoy my life.  I love my living family and I love my son whom has crossed over.  I continue to tell myself that my day to be with Chris could be tomorrow and I better get to living today! 

Please know, that I do not intend to push you through your grief.  I know that it is a process.  I read every book that I could get my hands on about "life after death" and I took all the steps that I needed to take... I didn't let anybody push me through my grief, but I knew that I had to take little steps to create space from the initial pain.  I just wanted to give you some hope- a hand in the dark.  Please know that you are loved and nobody wants you to be alone- they want you to have happiness and your daughter.  




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Thank you so much for your reply.  Your words are a comfort to me and have given me a lot to think about.  When you (figuratively) find yourself in a place that you don't recognize, don't want to be in, and don't know how to get  back home, it helps so much to have people to give you guidance. 

Just last week, I went to a meeting of the Compassionate Friends.  That also seemed to be of some help, to be with people who have some of the same experiences and feelings.  I have isolated myself a lot lately, because I don't want to burden my friends with my grief. 

Learning to accept that I and my life will never be the same again is such a difficult process.  Embracing change is something I never have been good at.  I can tell by your words that you have worked hard at being a person who accepts the good with the bad and makes the most of what you now have.  I am working at that, with mixed results.  Some days are just harder than others. 

I thank you for your thoughtfulness.  God bless you as you continue your journey.

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The cure to loneliness is to push yourself out.  I understand isolation- I did it a lot.  However, staying isolated, weather you have lost a child or not, can convince the mind that life is not worth living.  The world looks completely different when we are not out in it.  Trust me when I tell you that you really have to push yourself out... little bitty moments at Starbucks.  Little tiny minutes at a cafe.  Ask a friend to join you and talk about "their" life.  I got to where I told my girlfriends that I wanted a break from my grief and thus I didn't want to talk about it.  They totally understood.  We would get a magazine- remodeling ideas.... and discuss remodels.  It was a way to converse, yet not sit in the exact same space that I was trying to get out of.  It really was so healthy for me.  It gave me back windows that allowed me to see a different scenory.  Sometimes it is very healing to get cought up in someone elses life... and to take a break from our reality- since it's a reality that we have to live with everyday anyway.

You are not as alone as your mind is leading you to believe.  You just have to pick up the phone and start setting dates.  I know that you want to isolate- but do you really?  What good is it doing? 

Also:  one of my favorite books- that offered me so much hope- was an old book by

S. Ralph Harlow, "A Life After Death".  You can find an old copy on Amazon.com... read every page and don't stop until the end.... there are some wondeful messages in that book and it is non-fiction. 


(((HUGS))) Tina



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