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

Dear Erin,

Tomorrow is Halloween and Peyton is going to wear the Elsa costume that you bought for her. I think every little girl on the planet is going to be either Elsa or Anna. It is of course going to be cold and rainy/snowy. Very appropriate for a Frozen themed Halloween I think.

I stayed up past my bedtime tonight making a warm fleece cape for her to wear over her costume. I am sure that the addition of this cape is going to set her apart from every other trick or treating Elsa. Notice that I am following your strict direction to "always dress her in cute clothes."

As I was cutting and sewing I thought back to all the nights I stayed up late sewing, mainly for you and your sisters. Your brother was spared most of my efforts as a seamstress. I spent many happy hours down in that little laundry room, crammed into a corner next to the ever present mountain of dirty clothes, making dresses and coats and bathing suits. I know you loved them in spite of the harassment I get from you and your sisters. I still say the matching lime green shirts and stirrup pants I made for you and Bailey were the cutest thing ever.

As soon as I finished the cape I wanted to show it to you. So here is a picture. I hope you like it. And I hope that Peyton is harassing me about it years from now.

Love, Mom

Dear Erin,

Thanks for that spectacular find at the bottom of your bandanna bin. You know what I'm talking about.

Love, Mom

Dear Erin,

We took you to Lake Michigan today and cast your ashes into the water from the pier in South Haven. Tim and I, Grandpa Al, Nick and Peyton, Bailey and Missy, Kimmy, Todd and Levi were all there. It was a beautiful, warm fall afternoon. The water was calm and there was a slight breeze coming from the southwest. We each tossed a scoop of you into the waves, then Bailey emptied the rest of you from a bag that had Heart of Michigan stamped on the side. I dropped the bag in after you, along with a the picture of you that sat atop the box containing your ashes at the memorial service.

I sat on the edge of the pier crying as I watched your ashes mix with the water, flowing back and forth while the sun shone on you. There truly are no words to describe the pain in my heart, or the overwhelming gratitude for such a beautiful day with our family, playing in the sand. I know how much you love Lake Michigan. Rest in peace and joy, Sweetie Bean.

Love, Mom

Dear Erin,

You know how I love to organize things when I feel out of control. It's all about controlling what I can. I always feel better when I can get something in order. Remember when you first got cancer and I organized a huge garage sale to raise money for you? I couldn't cure your cancer but I could put a garage sale together. Organizing is my drug of choice.

Well I have organized the food. I have organized and reorganized the kids clothes and toys. Today I organized all of the bills that have been piling up on my desk for weeks, and actually paid them. I've even considered sorting Nick's Legos by color and size, but that would be really crazy, right? It's not working so well for me this time, though. The sorrow that is with me every minute will not be so easily tricked. I cannot organize my way out of this one. I miss you terribly.

Love, Mom

Dear Erin,

There are moments when I wish I could just will myself to stop breathing. The pain unbearable, indescribable, overwhelming. But my lungs continue to expand and contract, the oxygen coursing through my veins, powering my cells, fueling my brain and the images of our last days together. My life goes on while yours has ended.

Yesterday I found myself laughing hysterically at a story I was listening to on NPR. It was really very funny, something you would have appreciated. I thought to myself "how can I be laughing so hard when my daughter is dead?" Well, just as I cannot stop breathing, I cannot stop laughing or loving or any of the other things that constitute a life. I continue to eat and sleep, run errands and weep. I know that you would not want me to be swallowed up by my grief. You made damned sure that I would have a reason to get out of bed every morning. That little girl of yours snuggles up with me and says "Mamaw, can we wake up now?" I kiss the top of her head and say "yes, we can."

Love, Mom

Dear Erin,

Thank you for trusting me with your children. I feel inadequate to the task of raising them as well as you would have. Someone told me today that I am exactly what they need right now. Someone else told me that I will be able to help them through this because I knew you before you took your first breath. Really I think that they are exactly what I need. They are a piece of you that I can continue to cherish for the rest of my life.

There have been two complete double rainbows shining in the eastern sky in the last week. Some folks on Facebook have posted pictures and given you credit for this reminder of how beautiful the world really is. I keep thinking that some of the beauty left the world with you. My corner of the planet is darker, emptier, lonelier. I know that this will pass, that I will survive the grief somehow. But if that is you, thanks for the reminder.

Love, Mom