Sunday, January 10, 2010


I miss her already.

She is on her way to Australia to study music.
Just for a year. Probably.
Studying at Hillsong is the first thing since Maura's death to make her happy. She's nervous and worried, but excited. And happy. -ish. Everything is -ish for all of us.

I spoke with a friend of mine who very recently lost her husband to cancer. "Will I ever feel joy again?" she asked me, somewhat rhetorically.
Yes, I told her. It's still raw and it doesn't feel like it did before, but it is unmistakably joy. Maybe just a sliver.
I told Card Blue the same thing because he was so worried about his wife and kids. I think it might have helped him a little bit. He said it did.
Not that I'm all happy and bubbly like before because I'm not. But maybe some day...

So, it's wonderful to see Danielle pursuing something she loves, something that gives her a modicum of joy. It won't make the pain go away for her, but it seems like it must be a start.

But I worry.

Why do my daughters insist on making major changes in their lives when all the wisdom and all the advice and the books say not to make any major changes for at least a year?

I miss Danielle and Lydia and Maura. When Dani disappeared through the security checkpoint at the airport, I broke down just a smidge. But then I remembered it was only for a year. Eleven months, actually.
Not the rest of my life.
It was a strangely cheering thought.


Kathy said...

I'm not sure what her motivations are exactly but maybe she, like me, cannot return to "old normal". The life she had while Maura existed on this plain of existence, is gone and she has been forever changed by it. Maura just may have reset her path. The old normal just may be too painful to return to and now changed by her sisters life, she is now living her life in honor of her and in such a way that reflects her new self. Maura brought music to the world. Danielle just may be taking that torch running with it and bringing a bit of Maura's music and her own, to the world, finishing what Maura could not. THere is healing in this too. A new place. A new time. A new outlook.
I know you will miss her.

As a cancer patient, I did a lot of mourning myself this holiday season, for the me that was and though I am more or less happy with the path I've chosen, I miss the safety and contentment of the old one. I miss worrying about little things. I miss feeling free and like there is all the time in the world. I miss saying, "maybe next year". I miss living like Adam and Eve before "their eyes were opened and they now see." Maybe that is where Danielle is at.


Lydia Medeiros said...

"The life she had while Maura existed on this plain of existence, is gone and she has been forever changed by it."

i miss you too mom. and dad. i think we should skip wigby and just go to Sydney... we need a ENTIRE family vacation. somewhere we've never been before. somewhere new. somewhere peaceful. with a couple of days to adjust first. =)

i miss daddy, and danielle and you.
but. I'm happy for danielle. I think maybe australia and Crocodile Dundee will be just what she needs...

Lydia Medeiros said...

or maybe FIJI?

Lydia Medeiros said...

or cuba?

Lydia Medeiros said...

or that castle in Scotland?

Sue G said...

Erin, again you touch me with the simplicity with which you express the juxtaposition of joy and heartbreak.

One thing is very clear: You have given all your daughters wings to fly, to live the lives they choose for themselves, to delve into the richness of their gifts and explore them, share them, and enrich us in the process.

A priceless gift. An unselfish gift. And a gift with such wisdom and love attached to it that it reminds me of the gift God gave us so many years ago. A gift not without sacrifice, but certainly with unconditional and redeeming love.

Your girls will fly high because their wings are empowered by your gift.