I am inspired by Erin. I am inspired by her mother, her family, these people I have never met. And not just because I am "borrowing" the title of her mother's blog/journal, it's true. I am inspired by Erin.
Whenever I see a sunflower, a red rose, an image of a beautiful family, hear of a blood donor event, touch a snowflake, sip coffee by the fire, or just about DO anything, or EXPERIENCE anything, I am inspired by Erin...and our Allison, and Jessie, and CJ, and Scott, and Phil, and David, and Faith, and Lilly and a holy host of others...I am inspired. I know their purpose, now. The purpose for their life, as we knew it. Or the life we didn't know, but now FEEL through the spirit of their days or hours on this earth. God, they had such a purpose. But you, God, already knew that.
This day, Erin was taken home to her heavenly Father. This day, one year ago. And how I met her was through her mother. No, not in the physical sense, but in the way only two mothers who know they will face days, months, years without their child can relate. Her mother, Mary, reached out to me, in those days when it became so unbearable, she thought there was a way to prepare. Just like I did. Just like we asked the doctors, the "experts", anyone who might know, only to be told, "go home, hold her hand, love her"...and we did. Then came Mary, who I believe "found" me through our messages to dear CJ, who was battling a cancer similar to Erin's, similar to what we once thought was Allison's diagnosis. Oh the great, ever evolving circle of those who come into your lives at the moment when you need them most, God's greatest coincidences indeed. So, there was Mary, writing to ME, needing to hear those words that I didn't know how to say, just as those we asked didn't know either, so I followed suit, I believe, spoke from my heart, and at that moment we became soul mates.
No, Mary and I have never met, but I know someday we will. We share so much, down to the images of our children, her daughter being diagnosed right around the time Allison passed, same initial diagnosis, same family photos, same toddler images. I know this through her blog, I know a mother's love and anguish through her blog, and I know Erin through her blog, and I am inspired. I turn to her exquisite writing when I cannot bear another moment and I feel so utterly alone in this world. I turn to her words when I wonder if I am going crazy or being ultra sensitive to words other people say to me. I turn to her for her intimate thoughts on losing a precious child, while savoring the ones left on earth. And I have found a friend. A comfort. A soul mate.
Often, we write about the very same things on the very same day. I prefer her writings over mine, she is SO eloquent! Her photos capture a thousand words, and the way she shares her heart is inspirational! Sometimes, I avoid visiting her blog, for days or maybe weeks, because it is like looking in a mirror. True enough, a unique story in itself, there are so many similarities that my heart cannot take it. Not that I believe I am the only one who could understand this heavy load, the one brought on by losing a child far too soon, but sometimes, my own pain is enough to carry, and I cannot bear someone else's. Other times, it is as if it is just Mary and me, alone, and typing away so fast as if the words can pour out, just maybe we will have a day, a half day, a moment of peace and laughter, the kind of laughter we knew, before....
Today started out rough, in the wee hours when the tears were already on my cheeks, WAY before dawn. Tears for myself, for Mary, for their family and for mine. Tears of remembrance. Tears for a multitude of reasons. Tears for no reason. I don't keep a calendar. I no longer need one. My spirit just knows what it knows. And it knows where Mary is, where every mother is, right now, those who have buried their own. Whether today, the anniversary, or tomorrow, or last week, or next month, or on Valentine's Day, or next spring, or in the past, or in the future. All these blend into one, but I can almost happily say, I AM INSPIRED BY ERIN, thank you, Mary, may God hold you and yours in the palm of His hand.
2 comments:
Thinking of and praying for you (as always!) and for your dear sweet friend, Mary, and her family. Lots of love to you all.
Oh Kathy. Oh Oh Kathy! Your words are so beautiful. I'm humbled and so grateful.
I'm sitting in front of the fire this morning, sipping my coffee with Keenan at my feet. Dave is flipping through the Sunday paper. Sarah is still asleep up in Erin's room, the boys are at their own homes. Amazingly, it's another day. I'm often stunned at the way we can just flip to the next day...
I clearly remember when I first reached out to you. I never delete important emails, and I pulled up those initial words of contact on June 21, 2009. I've not read this in ages, and it's interesting to do so, to see where my thoughts were at that time, and to read your wise and loving response.
It began ~ "You are someone I'd like to invite to come and sit with me in my screened porch in the backyard. This is one of my favorite places - a place for sitting during a rainstorm, a place for a glass of wine or a cold Pepsi - a place where I go to ponder and attempt to collect the pieces of myself as I walk a journey with my now 18-year-old daughter that will someday leave me, to try to navigate this earth without her presence..."
I go on to say ~ "Your words go beyond the well-intentioned, 'my thoughts and prayers are with you' etc, and are filled with compassion, hope, positivity, grief and understanding. You have the gift of finding the words to convey the emotions that most of us feel as we watch our children do what is asked of them, and we in turn have to do what's been asked of us.
I haven't lost my daughter yet. I still have to go through all of that so in a way I'm getting ahead of myself. But I know I will, and being the organized planner I tend to be, I sometimes read other peoples' thoughts to see what it will be like. I'm not wallowing in the future, trust me, the present is enough of a challenge. I read the thoughts of those who've gone before me into this next step and I see that all of you are surviving, and that gives me hope and makes me a little less fearful.
I've begun to read some of your blog, and will continue to do so bit by bit while navigating through these days. I guess the purpose of my email is to thank you for touching me without even realizing you've done so. You give me hope and courage.
It takes great fortitude to navigate these waters, but I know without a doubt that I am so blessed to have this beautiful daughter in my life for however long it will be, in spite of the pain I have, and will continue to experience. My life would not be as rich as it is, and much of it is due to the adversity I must face and the witness of the courage Erin displays in the face of all this that teaches me daily that life is good if you can look beyond the fear."
And that was our beginning. Kathy, you and Allison have helped guide me since then. I crossed over to that other side a year ago yesterday, as you so thoughtfully wrote in your post. And here we are, together on this earth, with our sweet daughters together in heaven. The unimaginable has brought the two of us together. Thank God, for I continue to draw strength from you, the one who is several steps ahead of me. Our thoughts do mirror one another's, almost eerily at times ~ the musings of two mothers whose broken hearts will forever hold the memories of our sweet girls as we work to move through the days before us to find joy in what life continues to offer.
My hand is reaching for yours on this cold morning. Close your eyes and feel it. Bless us both, Kathy. We will meet someday...
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