Dear Erin,

Last night I dreamed that you, Nick, Peyton and I were on the beach collecting shells. You went to the restroom and when you came back you said you didn't feel well and needed to go home. The kids and I were not ready to leave the beach. The sun was shining and the water was warm. The sand was covered with shells, starfish and sand dollars and a soft breeze was coming off the ocean. I was worried that if you took the car no one else would know where we were to come back and get us. I hope that you come for us when we are ready to go home.

Love, Mom

Dear Erin,

We are flying to Orlando this afternoon. Nick, Peyton, Tim and me. I don't want to go without you. This was your adventure. You were so grateful and excited when we received the trip, and you waited almost a year to be able to go. You planned it and hoped like hell that you would feel good enough when the time came. We talked about getting you a motorized wheel chair at Disney because by god you were not going to miss Disneyworld. Now Tim is going in your place and I am trying to be at least a little excited about it. Maybe you planned it for us, so that we could do something fun as a family, shifting our ties to each other and forming a new kind of love between the four of us. I hope that we are able to enjoy this time together in your honor, to show Peyton how much you loved Disney, and help Nick remember the times he spent there with you. I will soak up some sun and gather shells on the beach with the kids, just as you would have. I am taking you with me, tucked in the deepest part of my heart.

Love, Mom

Dear Erin,

I went to The Healing Nest today. Without you. I took a box full of your bandannas and hats to share with other women who lose their hair during treatment. I hope that is okay with you. On the way there I thought about the first time we went. You were newly diagnosed, I was lost in a fog of fear about what was ahead of us. We had no idea how much we would come to love and be loved by those amazing women. Or that two years later I would be diagnosed with cancer and we would become the first mother/daughter clients at the Nest.

Trish hugged me hard and long while I cried on her shoulder. Gelina gave me a manicure and we talked about her baby, due in three months. At lunch I told our story to the women around the table, several of them were there for the first time. Teri rested her hands on my shoulders to comfort me. I wished with all my heart that you were sitting in the chair next to me, eating pumpkin soup and drinking tea.

I cried all the way home.

Love, Mom