Every day someone emails us at [email protected] which is Erin's first and only email address. The messages are varied - and provide support, insights and often hope. They are sustaining us through the really difficult days.
The day after Erin's Celebration of Life, I received this message from a mother, a relative stranger, who has provided profound wisdom and empathy to us over the past 3 months. This is a message she imagined Erin had for those who attended her ceremony:
Dear People,
If I’d known you were all watching me, I’d have painted my toenails too. There’s a fabulous glittery purple that you all would love. Also, just to say, my cartwheels were good but if I’d known I was on the stage, my ending would have been far more spectacular.
Mama, you didn’t cry. You make me laugh how strong you are. You might have washed my pyjamas but you can’t get rid of me that easily: when you’re sitting with the other West Van mums celebrating Cameron’s graduation, above the scent of Chanel 5, you’ll get a whiff of me and it’ll be far better than any bottled scent on the planet.
Dad, I can’t do what you really want but for second bests I can let you know I didn’t want to jump on the trampoline with you all the time. So long as you were mowing the lawn, I was happy not to be asked to do chores. Did you really think I wanted to empty the cuttings onto the compost heap?
Funny thing is, that every anniversary, birthday or family celebration you’ll both get sad. I can’t understand why coz I’ll be there with you for every ride.
I am upset that you didn’t ask everyone to wear sparkles and sequins for my ceremony and so to teach you a lesson, every time a sunbeam hits a glass and throws a rainbow, you will, will, will have to remember me.
Love,
Erin xxxx
And these are my further thoughts from Erin in response to the above as I know my girl so well and this is what I am sure she would have added, as well...
''Absolutely, I was disappointed in the cartwheeling you showed - I did them so much better and I wish you'd video-ed more of me so that I could have showed my prowess in all its glory. And you didn't even capture all the antics I could perform on the trampoline. Or my roller-skating around the house - dashing into the walls and paintwork which made dad not too happy. The world is poorer for that.
I loved that you and I used to just lie on the trampoline together and just listen to the sounds. Quietly... and then giggle. We heard so many different birds, the rustle of the leaves and the sound of planes above.
Mom, I know why you didn't cry - that's because you taught me to be tough. I used to cry a lot and that made the family frustrated. You used to say to me 'Stop crying'; stop crying' and I would dig into myself and the tears would still fall but I'd gasp the sound inside and control myself. I know the house is going to be much quieter now without my crying. But my life brought so much energy, vibrancy and creativity. But look for me in other ways. I will be a constant presence in the memories.
I approved of your choice of dress at my Celebration of Life. I played Marilyn Monroe in it over the air vents. However, you really should have worn that bright orange jacket rather than that drab beige one...as well as the orange scarf that Aunty Frances gave you that I destroyed by pulling the threads. I appreciated that you let me wear all your clothes even though I strew them all over the house. You could never find your shoes to wear! However, I really wish you'd let me wear your new black skirt with shiny sequins on it for my final carol concert at PJ. It was so much nicer than my own black skirt I wore. But you said I'd pull the sequins off when I was in the playground and on the monkey bars. You have the skirt in tact at least. I bet you're glad now though, that I pushed my fingernails into your prized orchid's leaves (given to you when granny died). Now you have my fingerprints memorialised in the leaves.
And mom, I hope you appreciate the people who are reaching out to you. They have been sent to sustain you as you bridge the gap to your new normal. These people are quiet angels who although it's impossibly difficult are choosing to walk alongside you. They will continue to support and sustain you through the months ahead. You have a new awareness of what friendship is - those who commit to not abandoning you to face this journey alone.
You will prevail - I have simply stepped aside but my presence remains.
Be grateful - continually be grateful.
In joy,
Erin''
At the end of the ceremony a friend who is an intuitive healer said she saw Erin do cartwheels on the stage; she was gleeful and delighted that so many people came to celebrate her extraordinary life.
So if you attended, thank you for making our daughter so happy!
The day after Erin's Celebration of Life, I received this message from a mother, a relative stranger, who has provided profound wisdom and empathy to us over the past 3 months. This is a message she imagined Erin had for those who attended her ceremony:
Dear People,
If I’d known you were all watching me, I’d have painted my toenails too. There’s a fabulous glittery purple that you all would love. Also, just to say, my cartwheels were good but if I’d known I was on the stage, my ending would have been far more spectacular.
Mama, you didn’t cry. You make me laugh how strong you are. You might have washed my pyjamas but you can’t get rid of me that easily: when you’re sitting with the other West Van mums celebrating Cameron’s graduation, above the scent of Chanel 5, you’ll get a whiff of me and it’ll be far better than any bottled scent on the planet.
Dad, I can’t do what you really want but for second bests I can let you know I didn’t want to jump on the trampoline with you all the time. So long as you were mowing the lawn, I was happy not to be asked to do chores. Did you really think I wanted to empty the cuttings onto the compost heap?
Funny thing is, that every anniversary, birthday or family celebration you’ll both get sad. I can’t understand why coz I’ll be there with you for every ride.
I am upset that you didn’t ask everyone to wear sparkles and sequins for my ceremony and so to teach you a lesson, every time a sunbeam hits a glass and throws a rainbow, you will, will, will have to remember me.
Love,
Erin xxxx
And these are my further thoughts from Erin in response to the above as I know my girl so well and this is what I am sure she would have added, as well...
''Absolutely, I was disappointed in the cartwheeling you showed - I did them so much better and I wish you'd video-ed more of me so that I could have showed my prowess in all its glory. And you didn't even capture all the antics I could perform on the trampoline. Or my roller-skating around the house - dashing into the walls and paintwork which made dad not too happy. The world is poorer for that.
I loved that you and I used to just lie on the trampoline together and just listen to the sounds. Quietly... and then giggle. We heard so many different birds, the rustle of the leaves and the sound of planes above.
Mom, I know why you didn't cry - that's because you taught me to be tough. I used to cry a lot and that made the family frustrated. You used to say to me 'Stop crying'; stop crying' and I would dig into myself and the tears would still fall but I'd gasp the sound inside and control myself. I know the house is going to be much quieter now without my crying. But my life brought so much energy, vibrancy and creativity. But look for me in other ways. I will be a constant presence in the memories.
I approved of your choice of dress at my Celebration of Life. I played Marilyn Monroe in it over the air vents. However, you really should have worn that bright orange jacket rather than that drab beige one...as well as the orange scarf that Aunty Frances gave you that I destroyed by pulling the threads. I appreciated that you let me wear all your clothes even though I strew them all over the house. You could never find your shoes to wear! However, I really wish you'd let me wear your new black skirt with shiny sequins on it for my final carol concert at PJ. It was so much nicer than my own black skirt I wore. But you said I'd pull the sequins off when I was in the playground and on the monkey bars. You have the skirt in tact at least. I bet you're glad now though, that I pushed my fingernails into your prized orchid's leaves (given to you when granny died). Now you have my fingerprints memorialised in the leaves.
And mom, I hope you appreciate the people who are reaching out to you. They have been sent to sustain you as you bridge the gap to your new normal. These people are quiet angels who although it's impossibly difficult are choosing to walk alongside you. They will continue to support and sustain you through the months ahead. You have a new awareness of what friendship is - those who commit to not abandoning you to face this journey alone.
You will prevail - I have simply stepped aside but my presence remains.
Be grateful - continually be grateful.
In joy,
Erin''
At the end of the ceremony a friend who is an intuitive healer said she saw Erin do cartwheels on the stage; she was gleeful and delighted that so many people came to celebrate her extraordinary life.
So if you attended, thank you for making our daughter so happy!