My heart was broken into a hundred million pieces. The world was suddenly cold and very dark. I held my baby close to me and cried with a sorrow that I did not know was possible.
On this day one year ago my sister died.
Even a year later just writing those words brings tears to my eyes and I still can’t believe that they can be true. How can they be? The world doesn’t make sense without her in it.
And yet she is really gone and that is a reality that I live with every day. Her clothes still hang upstairs in my house, in the room that will always be her room no matter how it changes. Her robe still hangs on the hook of the bathroom door — the robe she was reaching for when she fell down right next to it. I look at these things and so many others and I expect her to come home any time now, tired from a double shift at work.
I have pictures in frames around my house and even if she isn’t in them I remember her in the context of that time. This morning I looked at the picture of Mike and I kissing in Flagstaff at the sushi restaurant and I remembered that was the summer that Erin came to stay with us. That was about the most fun summer of all time. We went to San Diego and body surfed in the ocean. We hiked in Sedona. She came to work with me at Plateauland and went home with a puppy. The summer ended with her having emergency surgery, but we still had fun with it because my Dad flew out to be with us.
I looked at that picture and wished with all my heart that I could go back to that moment and do it all again. Even if I did it all exactly the same, it would be worth the pain for the chance to have some of the joy again.
Every day I am learning how to live in a world that does not have Erin in it. Sometimes I don’t believe that she is gone — it is just not possible. And sometimes I am so angry at her that I can’t even look at her picture. And sometimes I know this is all real, and I am okay with it because it was her destiny for whatever the reason.
Her marks are everywhere in my world, they are such a large part of my life and always will be. All I can do now is try to learn from her and allow her to teach me to be a better person (not that she was perfect — but she was completely unique). She reminds me to tip well because that waitress works really hard. She reminds me to love like it’s going out of style. She reminds me to take risks, try new things and do what you want to do because life doesn’t wait for you. She reminds me to buy that new shirt or necklace or get a new haircut because I’m worth it. She reminds me to be generous with my compliments because everyone feels better when someone says something nice about them.
Ghandi once said “Be the change you wish to see in the world.” I think about Erin whenever I see that on the magnet on the side of my refrigerator because I have never met anyone who personified that saying more than she did. She felt so much hurt and sadness when people treated her unfairly or were mean, and felt just as much when it was done to other people. She defended the little guy and tried to always be a friendly ear to anyone who needed it. Sounds like a superhero doesn’t she? Well she was one even if she only wore her tights and cape (dragonfly wings) on Halloween — she was my hero. I miss her every day.
