I’ve heard it said that small children are able to channel the dead easily. They see and interact with their spirit guides, as well as their departed friends, family and ancestors. I believe this is why many children have imaginary friends who they play with, have tea parties with and invite to the dinner table with the rest of the family. A couple of my children had these invisible friends. I remember they had unusual names. One of my daughters called her friend Ree Ree Coslin. They would hold hands, talk to one another and play outside together. These friends were like a part of our family.
Why do we lose this when we grow up? Who knows? I suspect it’s because we are eventually shamed out of it. Many parents feel the scrutiny of others when their child is talking to some invisible character while walking down the aisles of the grocery store. They don’t want others to think their child has gone off the deep end at such a young age. So we tell our children that these friends are make-believe, that they don’t truly exist. If they still have a relationship with an imaginary friend when they enter preschool or kindergarten, their peers usually ridicule them out of it.
My granddaughter, Arley, was always fond of Erik and he was particularly fond of her. I remember the tears of joy Erik shed just after Michelle delivered her. You’d have thought the child was his! In fact, the last moments of his life included playing peek-a-boo with her. At the visitation before his memorial service, Arley saw Erik lying in an open casket. In a very somber voice, she called his name. Tears welled up in her eyes. She was only 16 months old, yet it was clear that she had had some deep and meaningful relationship with him in other lives.
I remember taking her mother, Michelle, and Arley to the food court for lunch one day. The weather was lovely, so we sat outside by the fountain for a bit. As she faced away from us, Arley called out Erik’s name. So I asked her, ‘Where do you see Erik?’ She pointed to the space in front of her and proceeded to offer him a sip from her drink. She continued to call his name and offer her drink, almost insisting he share with her.
Other times, Arley calls out Erik’s name when she awakens from sleep or when she and I are driving around between errands. Today, I took her to McDonald’s for breakfast so that she could climb and romp around on the intricate play structure there. Together, we crawled through the maze of tubes, slid down the slides and played in the elevated helicopter. At first, she seemed a little frightened of the dark tubes leading to the slides and the most elevated portions of the structure. She had a white-knuckled death grip on the cellulite of my upper arms. But then, she announced Erik’s name as if he had just appeared before her. She began to relax her grip and crawled eagerly without fear. As she left me in her dust, she giggled, calling his name repeatedly. Clearly, she had found a better playmate than her ol’ grandma.
I hope Erik and Arley remain good friends as she grows up, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure they do. Here’s a picture of Erik and Arley moments after her birth as well as a video of them playing together.
I’ve been so excited lately about the progress I’ve made with my own channeling experiences. I feel like it’s all a matter of tuning in to the right frequency and holding it there, much like you would when you turn the dial on an analog radio to find your favorite radio station. The difference is that there is a lot of static, the bandwidth is exceedingly narrow, and when you let go of the knob, it seems to turn backwards or forwards out of the range of that coveted frequency. I’m better at picking him up, but locking in for very long is a challenge. That said, let’s listen to my favorite radio station, Erik and Kim in the Morning.
I start with my usual greeting: ‘I love you, Erik. How have you been?’
He chuckles and says in a low voice, again in mock exasperation, “Fine, Moooomm. And yes, that was me you saw at the foot of your bed and that was me Annika saw in the front seat of the car. I’ve been working to be more tangible, because I know that’s what you’ve been wanting. So I am going to be seen not only by you and other members of the family but also by strangers. Like you guys will be someplace eating out and the hostess will say, ‘Oh, are there five?’ and you’ll say ‘No, there’s four.’ And she’ll say, ‘oh, I thought he was with you!’
“I want you to know how hard I’m working on it.” Then he chuckles and adds, “I don’t want a time out.”
I smile to myself, recalling the many hours he had spent in the “time out chair” throughout his childhood years. I wish he were sitting in that chair right now!
In acknowledgement, I say, ‘I’m so proud of you, and I’m so grateful that you’re working so hard, Erik. I know you have other things to do and there’s a lot of fun to be had there in Heaven!’
“Oh, I can do both. I realize something now that I didn’t realize there on the earthly plane and that is I can contribute and have fun at the same time!” Kim pauses here to say Erik is struggling to find the right words, then continues. “I used to have fun sometimes, but I also felt like I was worthless. Not until I died did I see how valuable my life was on the earthly plane. Oh, and I’m starting a new project! Mom, you and I are working on a book. And there’s another book I’m going to work on with another author. It’s a book written by a teenager for other teenagers so they get how valuable their lives are, spoken from one who is no longer here and who has really fucked up.”
Kim asks “Erik, you know how kids don’t want to listen to other people’s experiences?”
He shakes his head and explains, “Yeah I thought about that, but I am a ‘kid,’ as you say, so I think others will listen, because I’m a peer and they can relate.”
Confused, I ask for clarification. ‘So, let me get this straight, Erik. This kid, this teenage author is here on Earth, and you’re going to channel to him, right?’
“Exactly.”
Kim adds, “As human beings we usually have spiritual collaborators while we’re working on a book.”
I feel such an overwhelming pride for my son and his mounting accomplishments as a spiritual being. Yearning to share those feeling with him, I say, ‘I’ve always tried to teach you, Erik, that doing things for other people feels so good, and I’m so proud that you’re actually, you know, that you’ve learned that or you’re realizing that on the spiritual plane. You’ve accomplished so much in such a short time. The fact that you feels like you didn’t accomplish that much here on Earth really makes no difference when you’re accomplishing so much on the spiritual plane. Plus, Erik, you accomplished a lot more than you think while you were here on the earthly plane, because you gave so much love to so many. You taught people to love, you taught people humility, you taught people to live in the moment, so I’m really proud of you, Erik.’
“Thanks, Mom! Now I realize how much I contributed and how much I did. I’m still trying to get to the bottom of why I felt so worthless. I know part of it is from past lifetimes, I know it, I know it, but I don’t get why I couldn’t pull myself out of that black hole, why I chose to end my earthly life without having more positive or optimistic thoughts about the next moment or the next hour or the next day, and why I didn’t just come to you and say, ‘Mom, I’m really really really fucked up; I need your help’ because I know you would have helped me.”
‘Erik, maybe you knew deep inside that you would accomplish more in the spiritual plane helping other people,’ I offer.
“Well that’s the way its turning out! Exactly! I feel confident, I feel certain that if I would have stayed there, I would have continued to question my worth and what I was contributing, and that would have made me useless. Mom, you’re absolutely right, as usual! You see what no one else does! I like the blog a lot by the way!”
‘Well it’s really your blog, Erik. You’re doing most of the writing! I’m just your secretary.’
Erik chuckles.
I go on with my next question, one that I’ve wondered about for a long time. ‘Can you communicate with us even when you’re not in the same place we are? In other words, can you and I talk even when I’m at home and you’re somewhere else?’
“Of course!” he assures me.
‘Can you hear me when I call for you? Can you hear me talk to you in my head?’
“Absolutely! I hear everything you say and think.” He goes on to explain in an excited voice, “Mom, Mom, Mom, it’s just like I was still on the earthly plane and we were communicating telepathically. It’s exactly the same thing. Say I was at school or at the shop or out riding, it’s exactly the same thing. I hear everything you say. And now, I listen!” Kim notes that Erik is laughing at this last remark.
‘Do you eavesdrop sometimes?” I ask.
Kim laughs and says, “Elisa, no one has ever asked that question in 23 years, and leave it to you to ask it. That is really such a funny question!”
“Of course!” Erik exclaims.
‘What a nosy boy!’
“Anyone in spirit knows what you on the earthly plane think and say. We not only eavesdrop on what you say but what you think!”
I reply with ‘Oh good, maybe you can make sense of some of the things that go on in our heads. Translate for us, Erik!’
Before he responds to my request for translation, I proceed with my next question, ‘Erik do you ever get frustrated with us when we don’t pick up on you? It must be really difficult sometimes.’
Determined to reply to my previous remark, Erik says, chuckling, “To answer your other question about making sense of what you’re thinking, not on my best day!”
I laugh and agree,’ I know that’s next to impossible. It’s a tall order!’
Kim asks me to repeat my previous question and I do.
“No, I’m just resigned. I know that if I speak louder and make myself more tangible with my electrical energy then you’ll know I’m there. I’ve talked about this with my new friends here on the spiritual plane and they’re like ‘this person doesn’t pick up on me and I talk talk talk for nothing.’ And I say, ‘well I think what you need to do is make yourself more tangible; make yourself seen and heard more tangibly and then that’s gonna change things. See Mom, look how much more you’re picking up on me! It’s up to us over here to make our presence known,” he replies.
‘And us over here to be more receptive.’ I add.
“Mom, that’s a good point, that’s true. I have some friends here in spirit who materialize and really make their presence known and the family members are in too much pain to be able to notice them. You’re right Mom; you’re exactly right. So it takes strength over here for us to materialize, and it takes courage for you to pick up on us.”
‘Do you and other spirits experience emotions?’ I ask.
“Shit, yeah! We don’t have our same issues anymore, but we all have personalities and emotions. Shit, yes, Mom!”
‘So you can even get sad?’ I ask in a worried voice.
“Oh, yeah, oh, you can get fucked up over here too!” Not the answer I was hoping for.
‘Does it make you sad when you see us sad or you hear our thoughts of grief?’
“Yes,” he replies with his characteristic succinctness.
Eager for a comforting explanation, I ask, ‘Do you look at us grieving and think, “Hey, you guys have blinders on; you don’t even know the half of it. When you come over here, you’ll see there’s no such thing as true loss?”
“No, no, no.That’s not it at all, Mom. There is true loss. There’s loss when you have a human being pass away, and there’s also a loss when you’re in Heaven and you have loved ones go back to Earth.”
‘I never thought about that. But the loss is never permanent, right?’
“Of course not. We just miss them until we’re together again. When I see you expressing sadness and grief, I understand it perfectly. I take full, full, 100% responsibility for it. I know that if I hadn’t committed that stupid act, I would still be there, at the worst, frustrating you instead of creating this great grief. Every time someone expresses grief over losing me, I feel totally responsible, and I understand it perfectly. You’re all entitled.”
‘Well, I just don’t want you to feel so uncomfortable that you stay away because it’s too painful for you!”
Touched by my concern, Kim says, “Oh, Elisa, you are so amazing.”
Erik responds, “Mom,” but Kim starts laughing before she can finish the sentence, then collects herself and goes on, “Mom, don’t be stupid!”
Kim adds, “You know, his sense of humor is so amazing.”
‘I know,’ I concur, ‘he’s always had a great sense of humor.’
“My God,” Kim replies in astonished agreement.
‘Erik, I want you to know that I am happy for you, because I sense that you are happier there.’
“I am, Mom. I’ve never been happier.”
‘Yeah, so it’s okay. And I’ve been telling you this lately.’ Struggling to choke back my tears, I go on, ‘I may grieve, because I long to hold you, my baby, in my arms, but I am happy that you’ve found peace and joy, and I know we’ll be together again some day.’
Erik senses the need for comic relief and responds, “I still want my Christmas stocking humg every year.”
‘Okay, and yep, we did hang your stocking this past Christmas, Erik.’ Although surely he knows this.
This is a good place to stop. The transcription is fairly long and will need to be divided into three equal parts so your eyes won’t glaze over. Next, Erik will discuss a variety of topics like the differences in abilities between spiritual beings and us peons left here on Earth. So don’t touch that dial! Stay tuned while we break for these commercial messages.
It’s been a while since I channeled Erik through psychic medium, Kim O’Neill, so I had collected several questions over that period of time. Naturally, I missed him deeply, so my first words were:
‘Erik, hi Sweetie, I love you.’
Kim giggles and mimics Erik as though he’s rolling his eyes at my sappiness, which was quite typical for him. He says, “Hi Mooommmmm,” in mock exasperation. “You’ve been talking to me all morning asking me to speak to Kim. Hi Mooommm. I’m here.” Kim laughs and says “He wants to tell you you’re micromanaging.”
“I love you too, Mom. I’ve been flipping between you and Pappa and Kristina and Michelle and Annika and Lukas and I’ve been spending time with Denise. I feel exhausted. I’ve been trying to give everybody equal time.“
Kim asks him, “Usually you talk a mile a minute. You seem really tired today. What’s going on?” Funny, his answer failed to surprise me.
“I’ve been partying a lot, so I’m really tired.”
Kim asks, “Who are you partying with?” Here, Erik interrupts her question to share some confidential information that I can’t publish.
I had been curious about my maternal grandparents who both passed in the early 80s so I asked him, ‘Are Nana and Pa Pa there with you, Erik?’
“I’ve seen ‘em,” he replies. “We’ve visited, but they spend most of their time playing with Arley. Nana has cooked for me. I’ve been spending pretty much all my time with you guys.”
‘Are you still spending time with Allie and Jordan?’ I ask. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, these are two of his friends who preceded him in death.
“Mom, you’re asking for messages about everyone else, but when you were talking to me today you wanted messages for you. I’ll talk about Allie and Jordan later. I’m happy to, but I want to give you messages first then I’ll come back to them.
“You’re the best Mom anyone could ever have.” Erik chuckles and says, “Mom, we’ve talked more back and forth in the last 3 weeks than in the last couple of years, haven’t we?” Kim shares that he finds that fact amusing.
“I’m sorry for causing you trauma, and I was hoping you would understand and that you would forgive me. I think you already have but it’s going to take me a little while to forgive myself for putting you all through this trauma for my selfish needs. I feel so much happier now. It wasn’t about you guys. I just needed to regroup. I was so confused about who I was, where I was going, what I wanted, and I felt depressed and I felt like I had nothing to look forward to. I want you to know how much I love you and how I treasure all the time we’ve spent together. I’m talking about lately. I like to talk to you when you’re driving. I’ve come to you a couple of times while you’re sleeping, in the form of dreams. I’m going to keep doing that.”
“How come I can’t feel you, Erik? I want to feel your presence. I want some hugs,,” I plead.
“You are capable of receiving that, but I’m not capable of extending that energy yet. I’m working on that. I’ve been working, working, working really hard. I wanted that to be your Christmas present, but it’s gonna take a little while longer. Maybe Mother’s Day. I have to work on extending my electrical energy so that you can not only see me and hear me but you can feel me. It’s definitely possible and I’m working on that right now. Oh well, there goes my surprise!” He laughs.
I’m so desperate for any form of regular contact with my son so I ask him, ‘How can I best perceive you now before you’re able to do that, Erik?’
“You’re already an excellent channeler,” he insists. “The more you speak to me, the more I get a chance to practice extending my electrical energy to you. Whenever you and I talk back and forth I try really really hard to extend my energy to you. Remember before when I use to puff out my chest so I would look like, you know, so I would look bigger? You remember Mom when I used to do that when I was little? That’s sort of what I’m doing now but with energy.”
‘Can you tell me about the therapy you get there?’ I ask.
“Yes, I still have therapy. I have this really cute therapist. I’m spending time with her while you guys are sleeping and nights when I’m not going to come to you in dreams. She’s pretty much given me the seal of approval that I’m healed.”
Kim interjects in mock sarcasm, “Well, Erik what took you so long?” and he answers her, “Yeah, I know! Everybody’s been kinda surprised over here that I did what I did and then I didn’t have that much to heal. I really didn’t have that much to heal.”
My next question is a very abstract one. ‘Erik, was your suicide part of a plan to help you understand loss? I understand your depression was mostly a result of the serious losses you experienced in your past lives. Was suicide part of the plan so you could see the effect your loss has on other people, so that you could watch us grieve while on the other side you have the understanding that there is no true loss because we’re all immortal? Did that help make light of loss for you?’
Kim interjects before Erik can respond, “Oh you’ve gotta write a book, Elisa. That’s just from me, the peanut gallery, not from Erik.”
Erik replies, “You mean was it always my destiny? No. No. But, have I grown and learned and evolved because of this? Have I put that issue of loss to bed? Yeah, definitely yes.”
With a sigh of relief I tell him, ‘Good because I just don’t want you to have keep coming back over and over to go through the same thing.’
“No, absolutely not. I never will go through all of this again. I’ve let go of loss. The depression was like a secondary issue for me. It was mostly confusion and the sense of loss and the sense of hopelessness and now that’s all gone. All that healing has been done from past lifetimes. I figure I have one more lifetime to go, that’s it, one more.”
I brace myself for the next question: ‘Okay. Erik I want you to be really, really honest because I really need to know this. What could I have done differently? This is part of my evolving so I really need to know, Erik. You can’t pull any punches with me here. Everybody’s flawed and needs to evolve, and of course I’m one of those people too.’
Kim says “Elisa that’s one of the bravest questions I’ve ever heard, because having spoken with Erik several times now, he has got to be one of the most irreverent, candid, forthright spirits I’ve ever spoken with in 22 years.”
Now I was REALLY nervous, but I answer her, ‘Well good, I want to know the hard cruel truth because otherwise I’ll never grow as a soul.’
Erik responds, “Nothing, nothing, because Mom I really wasn’t listening to you. Once I got to be about 16, I wanted to make my own choices, I wanted to make my own decisions. I would really get aggravated with you or Pappa if you gently tried to push me or suggest. I wanted to build my own independence. You were so understanding. I remained on the earthly plane for as long as I did because of you. You were always either turning the other cheek or you were being understanding and that made this earthly journey so much easier for me and is making it easier for everybody else.
“I should have listened. And when I was upset about something I should have talked to you. My therapist puts it this way: I should have opened up a dialogue with you about what was bothering me. I know you would have listened to me very calmly, very rationally. You wouldn’t have been like a regular mom like jumping up and down freaking out. You know, like ‘You won’t! You won’t! You dut dut dut dut…’
“I know that you were really calm, centered, somebody who would listen. Mom, you’re a great listener. I want to suggest to the other kids that they talk to you more because you’re such a good listener, and because you’re not only a mom, you’re a friend. I should have come and talked to you. If I had done that on a regular basis, I think I would have still been there.
I was so touched by his answer, it was hard to go on, but, choking back my tears, I ask, ‘Erik, right before I left the house 10-15 minutes before you killed yourself, I fussed at you about returning my iPhone to me and picking up the Pit Bike that you took to a friend’s house without our permission. Was that the last straw that made you pull the trigger?’
He laughs and says, “No! God no! You told me to do stuff all the time, Mom. I didn’t always listen. This you know! You’d tell me to do something, and I wouldn’t do it! When you were talking to me I have this shut off valve and I just shut you off.” (He shrugs) “I was there, but I just turned you off. I got really good at doing that. It meant nothing to me, nothing whatsoever. Was I upset or traumatized? Hell, no! I wasn’t even listening! The last thing I remember clearly about me and you was you said good night to me and gave me a kiss. That’s the last thing I hold dear between us on the earthly plane together.”
He chuckles and continues: “When you went into MM or ‘mom mode,’ I had a switch and I would turn you off. I would be there, and I would look at you but nothing would get through.” (God, how I know that expression!)
“Oh, tell Pappa I just got a boat!”
I tell him I will then, wanting to cram in as many questions as I could in such a limited time, I ask my next question. ‘Erik, who are my guides?’
“You have 56 of them. They’re organizing together to help you write a book. They say you’re going to do all the channeling yourself.”
Wow, 56 seems like a pretty high number, I think to myself. I guess I need all the help I can get! But channeling on my own? That hardly seems possible!
Erik breaks my reverie to ask, “Hey Mom, you asked about Allie and Jordan? I’ve seen Allie and I’m kind of upset because we just had an argument. You know how I can’t stand people telling me what to do? Allie is doing that for some reason. I don’t understand. I don’t remember her being like this on the earthly plane. She’s gotten kind of bossy and I have a hard time being around her. She got mad at me, because I didn’t agree with everything she said so she kind of banished me from her universe, and I told her if she wants to talk again, she knows where to find me.”
“As for Jordan, we hang out together” He chuckles at the pun, because Jordan committed suicide by hanging herself.
This upsets Kim, and she admonishes him “Erik you have the most irreverent sense of humor!”
She then directs her attention to me, saying, “I think he does that partly to tease me.” ‘Yes, he’s always been a big teaser!’ I assure her. “Oh my God!” Kim exclaims, still rattled by his Erik’s comment.
Amused by the effect his remarks made on Kim, Erik continues, “Yeah, Jordan and I hang out together and we’re really close buds. She’s come to visit you guys too. Jordan has gotten really really close to Aunt Denise. I thought Michelle and I were partners in crime! Oh! Jordan and Denise! Holy shit!
Then, Erik abruptly changes the subject, obviously bored with where it was going. I could feel the pent up excitement as he again announced with pride, “I just got a boat! I finally got my own place. It’s like a condo. It’s my bachelor pad.”
‘So you can create all this and have a life similar to the one of earth?’ I ask.
“Yeah, we can have everything we have on Earth. We can go out for pizza, have relationships, get married, it’s just the same, but we can manifest everything so much faster plus we don’t have the issues we did on the earthly plane. We have our life’s work, we travel, we can have children. I have my bachelor pad. It’s at the beach. But by the beach there’s a loch or fjord where I take my boat. It looks like Scotland here. I love it!”
Kim says he’s showing her his place and she starts giggling. She says, “It’s sort of what you’d expect for a bachelor. He has a leather couch and a big flat screen TV, an end table with a lamp, a bed, a lamp next to the couch. That’s it! It’s pretty sparse!”
Kim asks him, “No table? Where do you eat?”
“On the couch in front of the TV!” he replies as though this should be blatantly obvious.
I ask if he’s met Tommy, the son of a dear family friend who died in an automobile accident a few years ago.
Nonchalantly, Erik responds, “Yeah, he’s here, he’s here! And Mom, he likes to go by Tom now. He’s married. He has kids. He’s living the good life!”
‘Do you hang out with him?’ I ask.
“Yeah, some, but not like I do with Jordan and Denise. Tom’s busy with his wife and kids and his business. But yeah, I’ve been over there for dinner. Tom’s really happy living a really full life. He knows what he has now he couldn’t have had on the earthly plane. The way he passed was his destiny.”
‘Okay. Erik, there is something else I’m wondering. How do I know it’s you I’m channeling and not me making this all up?’ I ask.
“Mom, you’re really anal about that! I’ll come to you in dreams, and they’ll be really lucid so you’ll have total recall. And I’ll tell you in the dream when I’m talking to you like ‘Hey Mom, it’s me.’”
I still long for some sort of confirmation so I ask him, ‘Can you give me proof that it’s you speaking through Kim?’
After a long pause, he replies, “Michelle’s gift card. That’s the best thing you can do. You’ve been wondering about that. Mom does that work? That’s all I can come up with now. Gift card for Michelle. And I’ll tell you it’s me. You know my energy. You know if you hear ‘Hello Mother, what a beautiful day it is today,’ you’ll know it’s not me!”
That comforts me somewhat, because I do sometimes hear his voice in my head when I talk to him between our sessions with Kim. Until the next one, I intend to bend his ear, practice picking up on his energy and voice, and basically make an utter nuisance of myself. Although Erik and I spent a great deal of time communicating with one another while he was alive, I agree that we may be communicating even more now that he’s in spirit form. Poor guy will probably need earplugs and a cave to hide in, but I guess turnabout’s fair play, Erik! Love you, Darling.
For months now, I’ve longed for a more tangible presence from Erik. Nothing quite measures up to the intensity of a mother’s longing to hold her child in her arms, to kiss his cheek, to caress his face. Through our psychic medium, Kim O’Neill, Erik had mentioned that he has been practicing manipulating his energy so that he could eventually appear in a form we could see. To facilitate this, he asked us to talk with him, engage him, and channel him whenever possible. These, he says, give him the opportunity to practice extending his energy. He describes this as being similar to “puffing out my chest like I used to do when I was a little kid so I could look bigger.”
For the last week or so, I’ve been following his suggestion with keen devotion. At first, I felt a little silly talking out loud, engaging in idle banter to an empty space. I had to sequester myself in areas where I could be alone, for fear that my family, already concerned about my grief, would think I had finally tipped over the cliff into an abyss of insanity. Eventually, I conversed with Erik silently. The first few weeks, it felt like I was responding to my own dialogue, but with practice, I could hear Erik’s voice in my head as he answered my questions and reacted to my remarks. I could also see his image in my mind. I could feel his energy, his mood, his personality. The dark and somber mask that he wore the last few years of his life had been shed revealing the happy, mischievous boy I remember so well and miss so much.
The first physical visit occurred night before last. I had been talking with him all evening, and as I lied down to sleep, I could see a form at the foot of my bed on the left side. I felt it was Erik; his presence was so palpable. When I directed my gaze toward him, I could see his upper body. It was a translucent, shimmering blue with gold around the fringes. His arms were crossed, as was so typical of him, and he wore a broad grin that seemed to say, “See, I told you I could do it.” I could feel his pride so strongly. After 15 seconds or so, his form began to drift up and to the right and slowly dissolved. The last thing I saw before he was completely gone was that wonderful smile.
The next morning, I was sitting in my car in the garage waiting for Lukas and Annika so that I could take them both to school. I began talking to Erik again. I told him I loved him. I asked him what he’d been up to lately. I thanked him for the visit, and in general, engaged in trivial chit chat. I clearly felt his energy in the front passenger seat beside me.
When Annika passed in front of the car, she had a strange expression on her face. Although she usually sits in the front seat, for some reason, she paused at the front passenger window, then entered the rear passenger door to sit in the back seat. That night, she told me she saw Erik sitting in the front seat. It alarmed her. Things like that tend to freak her out as of course they would to most 15 year-old girls. When I told her that I had sensed his presence there at exactly the same time, her eyes widened to the size of cup saucers. I wonder how well she slept last night?
Hopefully, this is the beginning, not the end. Hopefully, it is the beginning of an exciting and enlightening journey traveled by a healing family with the help of a wonderful spirit.
In a recent channeling session with psychic medium, Kim O’Neill, Erik shares a more detailed account of his transition to the afterlife. He also reveals the new perspective he has on his life and his relationship with others, a perspective of a wise and enlightened soul unencumbered by the mental and emotional baggage that often comes with the limited perspective of the human experience on the earthly plane. Much of what Erik shares has some repetition from earlier sessions, but most of the dialogue is fresh. Note that Erik uses a lot of curse words has a very irreverent sense of humor. Hearing it come from the mouth of a modest Midwesterner gives me more confirmation that these words are indeed his. I can almost feel Kim squirming in embarrassment.
“Hey Dad; hey Mom.” (Kim notes that he sounds very upbeat and very happy to be where he is.) “I’m still living at home with the family. I spend every moment with you guys. I feel I’m out of my pain. Since I was 11, I use to hide how I felt a lot. I didn’t want you to know how depressed I was.
“Mom, you were the best mom in the world and you still are. But you need to get back to where you were because the other kids need you, especially Michelle because she is absolutely fucking freaking out. I promise I’m going to be in heaven when you guys get there. I’m just so damn happy not to be there in the physical plane anymore. I’ve never been happier. I don’t want to piss you off, because I know this has been beyond terrible for you and because it was such a shock, but I had being thinking about it for about a year. With my bipolar disease, when during the good times I felt not so bad, I felt okay but when I was in the down moments, that when I was planning. I didn’t tell anyone.” Note that Kim did not know Erik’s history of bipolar disorder.
‘Who are you with now, Erik?’ I ask.
“I’m with my partner in crime, Denise. We’ve been palling around a lot. But I’m spending most of my time with the family at home. Also, Mom, I want you to know that those things you’ve been picking up with the camera, those orbs? That’s me. But I’m going to start materializing so you can see my form, too. I’m always going to be living with you and Pappa, even if you move. And you’ll have people who come over and they don’t now about what happened to me and they’ll say like, ‘Um, last night, I saw something,’ and they’ll explain it to you, and you’ll know it was me.”
‘Why didn’t you tell us about your suicidal thoughts? Why didn’t you warn us?’ I ask.
“I didn’t want you to know because I knew you would try to stop me. I was worried that if you found out how bad off I was you would have put me in some sort of mental institution, and I’d rather be dead. Mom, you’ve always down everything you could to help us. Look what you did with Michelle, and she was really fucked up! I knew I would be happier dead, in spirit.”
I continue with my next question. ‘Erik, when you took the overdose of Provigil and you had that near death experience, did that give you a taste of the afterlife and make t easier for you to do it?’
“No.” (A man of many words!)
‘What about Allie, is she with you?’ (Allie was his girlfriend who died in an accidental gunshot wound to the head in March of 2009. They were very close and I feel this tragic event did much to influence his decision to take his own life. Even just prior to his death there’s an entry on his wall that reads, “R.I.P. Allie. I miss you still.”)
Erik answers, “Oh, yeah, she was there when I got there. They were all expecting me. I kind of told my guides that ‘okay, today’s the day. I’m going to do it today,’ and I was waiting for a time when everybody was gonna be gone. I didn’t want anybody to be home when I did it. I was gonna do drugs; that was my first choice, but I was afraid I would do it and not die and I’d be impaired. I wanted to do it in a way where my death would be guaranteed.”
‘Did you have any regrets after you left your body, Erik?’
“Nope. Nope. Not one. I’m very happy here. I don’t want you guys to be pissed off because I know how traumatic this has been for you. Do NOT blame yourselves! Pappa, you’re kinda better at that than Mom. Mom, do NOT blame yourself. It is because of YOU that I lived to be the age that I was. I would have done it a while ago.”
The last few years of his life, Erik was constantly searching for stimulation…for something to look forward to. There was always some new gadget, new hobby, new sport, new career path dangling like a carrot in front of his nose. But these things would provide him with only transient satisfaction. This was perhaps the biggest bone of contention in the relationship between Erik and my husband and I. He was always begging us for money to obtain a component for the new system in his truck, to buy equipment for a new sport, etc. So I asked him, ‘Erik, is that why you always kept so busy? Is that why you always wanted to buy something new or start some new fun activity?’
“Exactly. It kept me occupied.”
My husband interjects, “Is it because you wanted to experience as much as possible in the short period of time that you had?”
“No. I figured I was going to experience more in the spirit. I wanted to keep as busy as possible so I wouldn’t have to feel as depressed as I was. It helped some but it never lasted very long.”
His older sister, Michelle, tells Erik as she sobs, “I’m sorry for everything I did to you.” Michelle and Erik had a very close bond. They hung out together a lot and, naturally, they got into trouble together from time to time.
Erik replies, “Wait a minute. Let me get this straight. Let me get this straight. Because you acted like a bitch sometimes? Because of what you said and what you did, you’re feeling guilty about that and I blew my brains out and YOU feel sorry? What’s wrong with you? You’re fucked up” And he starts chuckling.
Michelle laughs quietly through her tears and, in mock sarcasm, answers, ‘Thanks.’
“You always did that, Michelle, but I knew you loved me. You were a guardian angel for me, and you took me under your wing. Mom was a big reason I stayed here as long as I did, but you were too. There were some things that I told you, (Of course I didn’t tell you I was gonna do this,) but Michelle there were some things I told you and you helped me get through it. If you didn’t I would have done it then. You know this, Michelle. You know this. There were things I told you that I didn’t tell Mom and Pappa, and you always listened to me, and you never judged me. You always listened and you gave me your opinion. Everyone has PMS sometimes!”
Michelle tells Kim, “Toward the end, we kind of had a falling out maybe for like half a year. Ever since we had a big fist fight in the Suburban, my mom’s car, I started to distance myself from him. I mean, I used to take him like everywhere. Is that because he was getting me prepared so it wouldn’t be as bad for when he did kill himself?”
Erik responds, “No, I look at everything differently now. I was being a fucking asshole and that’s why we had the fight. I was being a fucking asshole. I kept doing things over and over again. I liked to hit your hot buttons. I don’t know why I did that. You were so kind to me. You were a guardian angel for me. But I kept trying to push the envelope, push the envelope. You knew it and I knew it and I admit it, I can be a fucking asshole! Finally you couldn’t take it any more. I had been pushing you and pushing you up to that time and you finally lost it. I’m surprised you didn’t try to hurt me!”
I interject, ‘Not that she didn’t try!’
Kim told us Erik is laughing loudly, then he goes on, “I kept pushing your hot buttons and I knew I would get that response.”
“Erik, why did you do that,” Kim asks.
He shrugs and answers, “Well you do all kind of things when you’re fucked up. I gave me something to do. I thought it was funny when you would get upset, Michelle. I look at things different now. I think it’s a good thing we weren’t speaking during that time because I was so distraught. I would have continued being a fucking asshole and it would have made you miserable. I started to detach from everybody, because I knew nothing was gonna make me feel better.. I didn’t think killing myself was gonna make it better for anybody else. I was just thinking about myself. I didn’t want everyone to ask me questions, and I knew I was gonna be depressed and moping. I just wanted to be alone. I wanted to spend time in my room and spend time on the computer.”
Then Michelle asks, “When are you going to materialize?”
Erik responds with a question, “ You mean in a way where you can see my form and see what I look like?”
Michelle answers, “Yeah, you know I’m kinda freaked out about that, but if you did it in a really peaceful way, that would be awesome. Not at night. Don’t do that shit at night!”
Erik laughs and says, “You mean you don’t want me to stand over your bed at night and go RRRRAAAAHHHHHHH!? Hey, I never thought of that but that’s a fun idea! Nah, I’m just joking with you. But even if I tell you ‘okay Michelle, get ready, I’m going to materialize,” it’s still going to scare the crap out of you.”
Alarmed, Michelle asks, “But you’re going to do it anyway before I’m ready?!”
“Well, yeah, because even if it scares the crap out of you I think it’ll help you get ready.”
“Okay, well, just don’t do it at night!”
Erik laughs and says jokingly, “I guess you also don’t want me to jump in the shower? I promise I’m not going to show up while you’re driving and stuff. And Arleen is going to be talking about me. I visit her and play with her.”
Before our session, my eldest daughter, Kristina, wanted us to ask Erik if he helped her on her last bunch of exams, because she felt his presence while taking them. When I pose the question through Kim, he answers, “Yes I helped her cheat.” He says this in a mock confidential whisper. Chuckling, he explains: “Kristina walks the straight and narrow and her choices are beyond reproach. I find it amusing that I’m helping her cheat!” Kim had no way of knowing that this is so typical of Kristina’s personality. Fondly referred to as “Officer Kristina,” by her peers, she has a very heightened sense of morality and justice. Erik, as always, had her pretty well pegged!
Erik goes on to say, “I’m going to contact you with little songs on the radio moving objects around the house, and I’m never going to be withdrawn again, I promise. I’ve completely let go of that sense of loss, that—all that hard shit I had to work on buuuuutttt because of what I did I’m going to have to come back a bunch more times to work on what I could have worked on this lifetime. (he says this last phrase in a sing song voice as if he were telling a child ‘I told you so,) But I like to be in Heaven and also be with you. I like to swim in the pool and play with the dogs. I walk around while ya’ll are asleep, when I’m not in therapy.”
Erik then tells Michelle she’s going to have twins. “They’re going to be boys and they’ll be just like me.” He chuckles and says he finds that very amusing. “I mean my impatience. Remember how impatient I used to be; remember I wanted everything fucking now now now; remember how I hated to wait for things, remember how I wanted immediate gratification? You weren’t like that, huh, Michelle?” And he laughs exuberantly. They were two peas in a pod, those two. Both struggled with impatience more than most kids there age.
Michelle acknowledges and proceeds with another question: “When I felt like you were hugging me this morning, was that you?”
“Yes.”
“I was crying and I felt you like hugging and I wanted to hug you. I wanted to hug your little skinny body.”
“That was me. And you’re all gonna hearing me telepathically, you’re gonna receive me in dreams, you’re going to see me materialize, you’re gonna be smelling things, I’m going to be communicating with you through all of your senses.” Then, in an excited voice, he goes on to say, “Hey, Michelle, Michelle, when I talk to you sometimes you’re gonna smell like a bong smell!”
“A BONG?? Ew, that’s a horrible smell. That’s a bad smell,” MIchelle replies.
“Yes, that way you’ll know it’s me,” he answers.
She responds, again in mock sarcasm, “Thanks Dude.”
“Anytime! I’m teasing about the bong. I just brought up the bong so everybody would really, really know it was me. I know if you smelled a bong smell you’d tell me to hit the bricks. But I’m not going to be like ‘Look at that rainbow’ or ‘Look at those flowers.’ Oh but you might hear me saying ‘Look at those tits! Look at that blond. Look at her. Wow, look at her!’ And you’ll know positively without a doubt in your mind that it’s me you hear in your head and that I’m talking to you.”
Kim poses one question of her own, “Erik, how do you have such powerful electrical energy; you passed such a short time ago?”
Erik shrugs and replies, “I don’t know. I don’t know. I guess it’s because of my level of enlightenment. I’ve got a very high level of enlightenment. You guys know that. Mom, you especially know that.”
“Mom we had lots of past lives together where I saved your life, you saved mine, but Mom, Mom, Mom, you were not able to save my life this time even though you have before because I didn’t open myself to you. I didn’t share with you what I was thinking or planning or what I was going to do. I was planning to kill myself for a long time, but I decided to kill myself with a gun that morning. You couldn’t have known. And when I tried to kill myself with those pills, I was really serious so it’s when it didn’t work I was like ‘Shit! Do I fuck up everything I touch? Do I fuck up everything I can’t even kill myself?’ That’s why I wanted to make sure to do it right.”
Then, I asked Erik a question that I think is pretty typical of a bereaved mother. “Was it anything I said or did that morning that caused you to do it?”
“Oh God no! It was things you did and said that kept me on this earthly plane. Mom, I just couldn’t stay any longer, I was just so miserable, even for you I couldn’t stay any longer.”
Kim begins to cry softly and tells us, “He’s apologizing and apologizing and he’s showing me this again: He’s on his knees with is hands in prayer and he’s crying. He’s begging your forgiveness. He’s on his knees just begging you.”
In a somber tone, Erik explains, “Now we can see things so much more clearly and now I’m looking at things in a more mature point of view. I wasn’t looking at things that way. I was just thinking about my own pain, and I was thinking you could get over it.”
I asked him if he was there when I found him dead in his room.
“Yes and I didn’t want to BE! My therapist told me ‘you WILL be there, period. I did NOT want to be there but my therapist forced the issue and said, ‘you did it so you’re accountable and you watch.’ So I did and I was hysterically crying trying to comfort everyone. No one could hear me at that time. This is something I will never do again in any future lifetime because of that moment. That period when you found me was worse than any of the pain I’ve had in all of my lifetimes put together. Never EVER will I do something like that in my future lives.”
“Were you at your funeral, too?” I asked.
“Yes. My therapist said, ‘you will be there!’ so I had to go. I liked the music. Thanks Michelle.”
Michelle had selected his favorite music for various parts of the service. She felt delighted for his appreciation.
By the end of the session, we all felt convinced that this soul Kim was channeling was indeed Erik. There was no mistaking the tone, the humor, the language, and the perspective before and after his death. How comforting to know that he is still with us. Later, I will share with you how Erik appeared before me last night just before I went to sleep. Register so you won’t miss any entry updates, and if you have any questions for Erik, please click on the “Ask Erik” button at the top of the page. Your questions and Erik’s answers to them will be emailed to you. They will not be published unless you request that they be. Your questions can concern any topic, personal and specific or general and abstract. He so deeply wants to share his views about life, death, and the afterlife, perhaps to help make up for a life cut short.
Listen to Erik singing “Chop Suey” while on a drive home from Destin, Florida with Michelle. You will note three things: 1) a prophecy of the tragedy 2)the fun loving, close relationship between Michelle and him and 3) his horrid tone-deafness (sorry, Erik, but the truth shall set you free!)
Like many grieving parents, I voraciously read anything that might provide some evidence that Erik lives on in some other dimension. I just finished reading a particularly intriguing book, We Don’t Die: George Anderson’s Conversations With the Other Side, written by Joel Martin and Patricia Romanowski. In it, radio DJ, Joel Martin, follows the now famous psychic medium, George Anderson, for twelve years. In that period of time, Joel transforms from skeptic to believer. He introduces the rest of the world to George’s amazing abilities through both radio and television and challenges professional skeptics by subjecting George’s talents to rigorous testing.
All of his readings are worthy of sharing with you. Here are highlights of some typical telephone readings conducted during a live television broadcast:
“Male close passed,” George said.
“Yes,” a woman replied.
“Woman close passed.”
“Yes.
“They are related.”
“There is a family connection,” the woman acknowledged.
“You were close to him.”
“Yes.”
“It’s your aunt’s husband.”
“Yes.”
“Your uncle is calling out to her. He says he’s in the light.”
“It’s an expression he used,” the woman replied.
“He had a rough time before passing.”
“Yes. He died one week ago tonight.”
“There is litigation.”
“Yes.”
“About a dog bite.”
“Yes.”
“The dog jumped up and knocked you down.”
“Yes. We went to court yesterday.”
Sometimes, personal objects help George channel the dead. In this next reading, one of Joel’s friends, Harry, was interested in testing George’s abilities. So one night, he handed him a piece of cloth that had been folded into a small square, approximately two inches by two inches. George held it in his had, but, interestingly, did not rub it or try to make out the object’s shape or size.
“This is something from a uniform,” George said.
Harry nodded.
“Something from a soldier?” Harry didn’t answer, then George said, “Something from a foreign soldier.”
“Yes,” Harry acknowledged.
“I see blood, violence. Oh my God, it’s a swastika!”
“Oh?” Harry replied, trying to sound very casual.
“This was your father’s. I’m being told it’s from a soldier he killed. It’s from the first soldier he killed.”
Harry then asked George if he could tell him what happened.
“It happened at the time of the Battle of the Bulge. It was in the south of France, in late 1944, he’s telling me.” George then said that he saw a spirit’s face materialize. It was the spirit of the German soldier from whose uniform Harry’s father had taken the swastika.
“The German soldier is telling me his name is Fritz. He’s saying there is no animosity to your father on the other side. ‘We have met on the other side. This is the exchange,’ Fritz said. Your father killed Fritz because in a previous life Fritz killed your father. This is an “evening-out” of karma, so to speak. In any event, they have met on the other side. They know each other now and they are friendly.”
Harry confirmed the reading. His father, John, removed the swastika from the uniform of a soldier he killed in 1944. John sent the swastika back to his wife with a letter saying, “This is from the first enemy soldier I killed.” A few months later John was killed in action. In 1956, when Harry was twelve, his mother gave him a number of mementos, among them the swastika.
I believe the world is ready to enter a new spiritual era now. What was once ridiculed is now being researched. Rigorously conducted experiments by a number of scientists seem to confirm the communicative channel mediums have between our earthly plane and the afterlife. Studies are being conducted on those who have suffered near death experiences. Mathematical investigations by theoretical physicists suggest quantum-based explanations for everything we once thought was the folly of fools.
Can you imagine a world where death is viewed as a comfortable transition to a greater reality where unconditional love envelops us? Can you imagine a society were we truly believe in the power of love and karma? How would we live our lives? How would we treat one another? What new utopian society would evolve?
I’m hoping Erik will help us uncover those answers so that his death will not have been in vain.
Mariana is a young lady who I feel is an important part of our family. She came to America with very little command of the English language, so I volunteered to tutor her throughout most of her grade school years. To help ensure her success, I also encouraged her to come to our house after school so she could finish her homework under my tutelage and interact with my five kids, socially. It didn’t take very long for all six to become a close pack of friends scavenging my pantry and playing in the back yard. They all grew up together with Mariana taking on the role of another sister.
Eventually, my oldest kids entered high school, Mariana became a middle schooler and my youngest ones remained in elementary school. Naturally, the kids drifted apart a bit and stopped spending so much time together. Nevertheless, the underlying bond of fondness was there, and we all often reminisced about the wonderful times we spent with her.
Erik was particularly fond of Mariana, perhaps because they were the closest in age. When he finally got his own wheels, he was eager to take her out from time to time. Even when she had a boyfriend, Erik wanted to “hang out” with her. He enjoyed her companionship so much.
Mariana was particularly devastated by Erik’s death. She wished, as so many of us did, that she had spent more time with him. RIght after his passing, Erik expressed concern for her through the medium, Vicky Warren. While channeling him, Vicky said, “Erik is concerned about a young girl with a name that sounds like Maria, but it’s a longer name, a Latin name. He plans on visiting her in her dreams to provide much needed comfort.”
I hesitated to relay this information to Mariana, because I wasn’t sure how open she’d be considering her religious upbringing. What if she found this information disturbing? What if it did more harm than good?
Before I could make up my mind about how to handle this message, Mariana called me. She sounded excited as she recounted Erik’s first visit to her. I asked her to email the experience to me. Here is a description in her own words:
“I have to tell you about a dream I had this morning. I had to wake up really early this morning to go finish a test during 1st period because I have late arrival. My alarm went off at 6:50am but of course, I turned it off and went back to sleep for about 25 minutes. In those 25 minutes, I had a dream about him!! I don’t really remember all of it but I remember I was walking in my room and I saw the blinds moving like opening and shutting really fast and I was scared. Then I received a call from you and you told me he was on the phone. I could hear his voice through the phone and we were talking. I don’t remember what he was saying but I just remember I was crying because I was so happy to hear his voice. So then I remember telling him I wanted to keep talking to him more but I had to go get ready to go finish a test at school and that I needed him there with me and didn’t want to leave him and he said in a calm voice “I’m always there with you”… and I felt so comfortable and so safe. Like I could feel him around me. I don’t really know how to explain what I felt but after that I woke up and actually started getting ready for school. Isn’t that weird? I wish I could remember every single detail but I’m really bad at remembering dreams. It felt SO real that throughout the day, he kept popping into my head randomly like he was actually with me during the whole school day, and I kept thinking I had actually talked to him.”
Dreams are the most common ways our departed loved ones communicate with the living. I suppose it’s easier for them to engage us when our consciousness leaves our body during sleep and is not cluttered with the constant barrage of thoughts that busy the unquiet mind. Again, what’s different about these visitation dreams is that they are more tangible. They feel real. They provide comfort. My hope is that I will eventually be able to invite such visits from Erik while I’m awake and that other grieving parents, family and friends will strive to do the same.
My mind is my own worse enemy. It’s made this last week a particularly dark one. Thoughts of missing, of loving, of what once was and what will never be are instruments of torture. They are the bamboo splinters thrust slowly and deeply under my nails. They are the eagle that picks away at Prometheus’s liver while he is bound in chains to a rock. I, too, feel like a modern day Prometheus. The wound is deep and painful and the chains of grief are enslaving. Hopefully, time will provide the key to the lock binding those chains. With any luck, I can, like Prometheus, turn this tragedy into a gift. As he gave mankind the gift of fire, I pray that I can give the bereaved comfort and hope.
Losing a child, particularly to suicide, is gut wrenching. It lends an entirely new perspective on the term, “a broken heart,” because every morning when I wake up and realize that ‘yes, Erik is still dead; it wasn’t all some horrible dream,’ I feel like a dagger has been plunged to the hilt into my heart. Since his death, it’s like I’ve lost a limb and must limp through life a broken woman. Some days I wonder how I can bear plodding through the decades I have left on Earth when every day that my son isn’t with me is like a bitter eternity. Some days, I long for death, but the love I have for my husband, my other children, my friends and the rest of my family plays tug-of-war with my soul. I must stay. I must love. I must endure.
Of course I have many good days, but when I slip into a particularly dark place, Erik comes to comfort me. The other day he did just that. Here is just one story of the many miracles with which he graces our lives:
Erik shot himself in the head in his bedroom. Finding him moments later was the most horrible experience I’ve ever had. For days, I couldn’t even go upstairs, much less return to that room. Then, I went through a phase when I wanted to be there all the time. I wanted to smell his dirty clothes. I cursed the fact that the sheets on his bed were changed minutes before his death, robbing me of the chance to soak in his scent, his essence. I tended to the makeshift altar on his desk by lighting the candles and rearranging the flowers that were slowly turning brown. I combed every surface, every wall to find the dent made by the wretched bullet that stole him from me forever.
Now, I avoid the room again. Seeing the rough wood planks from which the carpet was removed, seeing the yellow bags the crime scene cleanup crew filled with his clothes, seeing his empty bed…it’s just too hard. We keep pictures of him around the house, but every reminder of his death is locked away in his room: the photo album from the funeral home, the keepsake box filled with sympathy letters, leftover programs for his memorial service, copies of our eulogies, they’re all in his room as unspeakable reminders of a life cut short. Erik’s room is a no man’s land behind a locked door that no one dares open. To open that door is to open painful wounds again.
The other day, I felt particularly sad. As I sat on the couch sobbing softly, the housekeeper who comes once a week and has know Erik since he was 16 months old approached me quietly. She said, “Elisa, look what I found on the utility room floor.” She placed a little card in my hand. It was a card meant to be distributed to everyone at Erik’s visitation and memorial service providing information on how to leave an audio message, thoughts, prayers, remembrances, condolences.
How could this be? These cards have been locked away in the leather keepsake box in his room upstairs. The door to his room has been closed for months. How did that card go from that box, from that room, all the way downstairs to settle on the white tile floor in the middle of another room?
As I touched that card, Erik’s image appeared in my mind. However, this was no ordinary image. It was vivid. It was strong. It was tangible. And the smile on his face spoke volumes. It said, “Mom, I’m fine. I’m here. I’m as alive as I’ve ever been.”
I’ve learned so much from the books I’ve read on how souls can manipulate energy to move material objects, even books explaining the physics behind the phenomenon. In a previous entry, I recounted how Erik said he was working on developing that skill so he can contact us in more tangible ways. That miracle proved to me that his practice paid off.
A day destined to be sad had become happy. Thank you, Erik, my darling boy.
My younger sister, Laura, always had a special connection with Erik, perhaps because they shared some of the same struggles, perhaps because they shared the same philosophy of life. Whatever the reasons, she was particularly devastated by his death. I’m certain Erik sensed her grief and came to comfort her one day in the wee hours of the morning. Here’s Laura’s poignant story of her visit with Erik:
“Erik’s presence was sitting on the porch with me, and I felt very calm and sure of his being there with me. I told him how much he was missed and felt like he understood the grief we all were experiencing because of his passing. There was so much empathy and compassion radiating from him. He was certainly “all knowing”. I was smoking a cigarette and offered him one which he took with a mischievous grin when I said ‘don’t tell your Mom and Dad.’ I asked Erik to watch over his Mom, Dad, brother, sisters and the rest of the family and to let them know that he was happy. I told him that I understood his pain and suffering in life, and I could tell that he had finally found peace. We sat in silence for about 30 or 40 minutes. I reached over the patio table and held his hand and squeezed it. Then I told him I knew he was going to be busy visiting his family but he could come visit Jim and I any time. I told him I loved him and I was grateful for his visit. Then he left. I felt better afterwards.”
Laura and her husband, Jim, had recently moved back to Houston after many years in Little Rock. I’m so grateful that they both had time to renew their relationship with Erik. All three of them enjoyed each other’s company on several occasions the last few month’s before Erik died. His aunt and uncle were always there to listen, offer comfort and advice, and provide quiet companionship. They treated him to dinner, took him out fishing, and often enjoyed their smokes together on our back porch. Laura and Jim love and miss him deeply and look forward to his next visit!
Weekends are always really tough for me. During the week, I have plenty of distractions like work, carpool and the many menial chores required of running a household. Weekends are quiet. There is time to reflect. Time to mourn. Time to miss. Time to long. Time to wonder what Erik’s future might have held had it not been lost forever.
By Sunday evening, I hit a particularly deep emotional low. I sat in my car in the Kroger parking lot, sobbing. ‘Please, Erik,’ I begged. ‘Please send me a message that will lift me out of this dark, dark place. I need a sign. I need a definite sign to give me a reason to go on.’ Then I gave him specific instructions. ‘I want you to make sure that the next song on the radio delivers that meaningful message. Not the second or third song, the next one!‘ When he was alive, I had trouble getting Erik to comply with my different requests like completing his chores and finishing his homework, so I didn’t hold out hope for this one. Nevertheless, my prayers to him were answered in a Kelly Clarkson song, “Already Gone.” Here are the lyrics:
Remember all the things we wanted
Now all our memories they’re haunted
We were always meant to say goodbye
Even with our fists held high
It never would’ve worked out right
We were never meant for do or die
I didn’t want us to burn out
I didn’t come here to hold you, now I can’t stop
I want you to know that it doesn’t matter
Where we take this road someone’s gotta go
And I want you to know you couldn’t have loved me better
But I want you to move on so I’m already gone
Looking at you makes it harder
But I know that you’ll find another
That doesn’t always make you want to cry
Started with a perfect kiss then we could feel the poison set in
Perfect couldn’t keep this love alive
You know that I love you so, I love you enough to let you go
I want you to know that it doesn’t matter
Where we take this road someone’s gotta go
And I want you to know you couldn’t have loved me better
But I want you to move on so I’m already gone
I’m already gone, already gone
You can’t make it feel right when you know that it’s wrong
I’m already gone, already gone
There’s no moving on so I’m already gone
Remember all the things we wanted
Now all our memories they’re haunted
We were always meant to say goodbye
I want you to know that it doesn’t matter
Where we take this road someone’s gotta go
And I want you to know you couldn’t have loved me better
But I want you to move on so I’m already gone
I’m already gone, already gone
You can’t make it feel right when you know that it’s wrong
I’m already gone, already gone
There’s no moving on so I’m already gone
They say our departed loved ones often use the radio to communicate with us. Erik’s older sister, Michelle, had a similar experience. More on that later. Listen to this wonderful song, this gift from Erik:
ABOUT CHANNELING ERIK
On October 6, 2009, my 20-year-old son Erik, took his own life. Since that sad and tragic day, an overwhelming sense of grief and despair propelled me into a search for answers. Answers that would provide me and others with comfort and hope. Some of those answers came from the many books I bought, but many came from an unexpected source…Erik, himself. read the story »
WHERE TO START
If you're new to Channeling Erik, I recommend you read the backstory first.
Then, I suggest you start with the very first post. In doing so you can follow my journey just as I did, through the inexplicable, inconceivable, and yet utterly undeniable surprises that I have encountered since my son''s death.
