Same Old

It seems I am back to sadness this morning. Well it started last night, when I realized that I was frantically going over every piece of Erin’s illness trying to figure out what I missed and when I missed it. There was no stopping that. It lasted until I went to bed even though I knew it was futile and that it hurt me.

Woke up this morning as usual, thinking of her. By the time I actually made it out of bed 30 minutes ago I was crying and down. I miss her so badly. Does this never end? I know the answer…

I went ahead and booked an appointment with Betsey Lewis for later this week. I am lost and need direction, and I also hope of course with her being a medium that Erin will pay me a visit. Actually I’m sure she will, since she already paid Betsey one. I will just say for now that her return email to me knocked my socks off with something I haven’t really mentioned even here, and for now I’ll leave it at that.

You know, I look into her room every morning and say “Good morning Erin.” I do the same at night. I talk to her all day, and I tell her that I love and miss her. I never open her blinds or turn on her lights. No one lives there anymore and I am afraid if I do that, then it will give me false hope and the neighbors might think that everything in our home is back to normal. It is not normal by any means.

By the way, in the midst of my review of what went wrong, I realized that it wouldn’t have mattered. At least I don’t think it would have. Her body never gave up its secrets. If it wasn’t infectious disease, she had other departments at Children’s consult at least twice and in the end they told us that they couldn’t recall having so many departments and people consult on one child in their memory. But my mind thinks that if I had been in more control that I could have fixed the situation. That’s a fallacy, but my mind doesn’t like not having control over situations. It’s a protection mechanism from my childhood – long story. The bottom line is that my mind is trying to figure out where it went wrong, and it will either try to blame itself or someone else. It won’t bring her back, though. It just tortures me.

I actually just read something about the mind not believing what the heart knows or understands. I have written about that before and dang it, my mind is smart but dumb at the same time because it never believes my heart. It doesn’t take orders very well either, such as to give the flashbacks and worrying a rest. There is nothing left for me to worry over. It’s over now, and nothing else matters in the whole scheme of things. I can rest. My mind can rest. My heart has to heal.

Maybe later today I can muster it up to share some more of Erin’s artwork. I found a birdhouse she painted the last week she was awake in the hospital the other day, and at some point I will post a video of her room. She really loved her stuff and it all was special and had meaning.

Wishing you all a wonderful day.