Jan 18

Looks are Deceiving

I have been thinking lately about how everyone thinks I am so strong. They have no idea the strength it takes just to be alive every day. But they also have no idea how weak I am. For instance, although I am personally against the idea, I would sell my very soul in a heartbeat to have Erin back. I would make a deal, like on the show Supernatural, to have the hell hounds come for me in 10 years, or even in 1, just to see her again. I would rather be dead than live without her, and my consciousness searches the dimensions for one in which she is alive. That may sound like an odd statement to some of you, but if you believe that there are other universes or dimensions, it’s possible.

Last night I dreamed that I got a second chance. I call them dreams, but when I sleep and I have lucid experiences they are just that and not dreams. I am fully aware, and remember past and present. I knew she was dead and that this was a second chance. In fact, Shaun and I argued over what to tell the doctors because I knew that I had to tell them everything in order to give them time to heal her this time. And I got to speak to her, and I chose my words carefully, because I knew that this was my 2nd chance. I woke with some hope. I am being shown things in my dreams that are seemingly impossible, but I know that nothing is impossible. So therein lies my hope. I will never let her go, nor will I let go of ideas that some think are impossible or nuts.

My strength is evident in the fact that I am walking, talking, and yet so miserable that I am ruined. But I am not strong, I am very weak. I wonder if I would compromise all of the integrity and character that I have strove for in this lifetime, if I would throw it all away in the blink of an eye. I wonder if I would throw humanity itself away just to have the comfort of my baby girl. I suspect that in the final moment, I would not succumb to that sort of darkness and lapse of integrity, but you never know. My grief is strong, and I grieve for all parents who have lost. I am no savior, but I grieve for you and with you. I embody your pain and my own. And if there are any ascended or lighted beings who are listening and feeling this, I hope you take heed. No one, anywhere, should have to suffer this much. I have learned what that means and I will never forget it, even if I reincarnate a thousand times more.

Namaste and #missingerin

 

2 comments

    • Marianne Campbell on January 19, 2015 at 12:43 pm
    • Reply

    I believe that you are as strong as you can be in this impossible situation. I remember how first Pres. Bush broke down crying when asked if he had any regrets, stated that he wished their only daughter, who died around 3year old, could have lived. She died with leukemia or something. Someway, he had learned to manage his sadness. I know you are trying hard. I worry about Shaun too. Love you both, #missingerin

    • Shirley Stephens on January 20, 2015 at 9:11 pm
    • Reply

    Our hearts are broken. Our lives will never be the same. Her presence was an enhancement to all our lives. I still miss that beautiful smile and I will forever miss you. Erin !

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