October 5th is hours away, which means eight years ago from the moment I sit here writing this, my family was congregated at my sister Erin’s bedside watching her struggle through her final breaths.
I used to love autumn. But now the cooler temperatures and the bold colors bring back memories from that year, so strongly imprinted on me that it can be challenging to see beyond the anger and sadness and depression that always re-emerges. These emotions are never far away (in a sense, they’ve replaced the adult life I always reasonably expected to share with both of my sisters) but this time of year, particularly the week leading up to and the days surrounding October 5th, they’re all just a little bit heightened.
As I’ve discussed before, one of her biggest fears about dying was thinking that as time would pass on and life would evolve for those of us left behind, our memories of and feelings for her would gradually fade away. And even though that really isn’t ever going to happen, I think in a way it has a little bit. I’ve noticed that whenever someone dies before their time, the loved ones remaining tend to hang onto an idealized version of the person they lost. We want to remember the good things that were so special about the person that we miss. But that kind of revisionist history isn’t a truth. Sure, the good things are all there, but we all have quirks and insecurities and failings. We all get on each others nerves on occasion. And these things are important dimensions of what makes each of us a whole person.
When I start prepping a manuscript, one exercise I use to get to know my characters is to make lists of their defining attributes. This year I’ve decided to make a list of things that would represent the Whole Erin I knew, as if I were defining her as a character for someone who didn’t know her. Not just the greeting card memories, but the real her. If you never met her, I hope this will help you know more about why she was so important to us. If you did know her, I hope this gives you glimpses back to who she really was, and reminds you just exactly why we miss her so much:
1 - She was all too willing, and in fact eager to bring new friends into her life, sometimes level-jumping into a closeness faster than most people would. Once she decided someone was a member of her inner circle, she made every effort to make sure they understood how important they were to her.
2 - She could not fall asleep without some kind of ambient noise in the room. She packed a small portable fan whenever she traveled, just for the sound it made.
3 - Her taste in music was absolutely head-scratching. Do you remember that odd 90s one-hit wonder, “How Bizarre?” She is the only person I knew who liked that song so much she actually bought the album it came from.
4 - She had a wicked passive-aggressive streak when she wanted to bring it out.
5 - She set a goal to skydive before she turned 30 but didn’t tell my parents about it (or me for that matter, and possibly our sister) until afterward. In retrospect, I saw two reasons for this: First, she didn’t want our mom and dad to freak out about her skydiving. But also it was a good example of how sometimes she would put up little bits of distance between herself and the rest of the family in an effort to define herself.
6 - She would occasionally borrow my car for road trips back home during college. When she would return it, the steering wheel would be slippery with Dorito grease.
7 - Even before she was sick, she believed she was going to die young.
8 - The very day I left home for college, she stole the television out of my bedroom and put it in hers. I can only guess how long she’d been planning that heist before her chance came up.
9 - She owned more sweatshirts than even I do.
10 - If my phone rang during a commercial break while watching The X Files, I knew when I picked it up I’d hear her scream, “OHMYGODDIDYOUSEEWHATJUSTHAPPENED??”
11 - She loved dogs to a point that it was almost irrational. I had to convince her once that it wasn’t a good idea for her dog to ride in her lap when she was driving 80 m.p.h. on the freeway. There are four dogs in our family now: Willow, Mac, Shamus, and Butch. She never knew any of them but would have loved them all desperately.
12 - She planned every possible detail about her funeral, down to what shirts her pallbearers would wear. The only things left for Jenny and I to take care of were writing the eulogy (my job) and choosing the readings for the service. We picked one that said something about sheep because Erin loved sheep, and picked the other because it had been featured in a funeral on The West Wing, which was our favorite show at the time.
13 - Any senior citizen she ever met was an immediate best friend.
14 - She attended a Star Trek convention in downtown Minneapolis once. Her and whichever friend she had gone with got lost looking for it, then saw two people in costume walk by. She nudged her friend and said, “Follow those Klingons.”
15 - Her death wasn’t an easy one, but she fought to maintain her independence, her sense of self and her dignity for as long as she could, even when she was well beyond the point of knowing the time to fight was already over.
16 - She could be horribly bossy and controlling, and often saved it for Jenny and me. I think a lot of it was a youngest-child thing.
17 - She essentially named my dog; when I told her the short list of names I was considering, she picked her favorite by saying, “Well, it doesn’t matter what you call him now, because I’m calling him Spencer!”
18 - When it was just the three of us together -- Erin, Jenny, and me -- we could laugh ourselves wordlessly stupid at the most ridiculous, immature things.
19 - She knew how to hold a grudge when she wanted to.
20 - After her surgery and radiation treatment, she was in remission for all of three months before her cancer returned. I’m pretty sure I know the moment she first suspected it was back -- it happened in my classroom in front of my students.
21 - She was very protective of her private life.
22 - She didn’t respond well to having her insecurities highlighted, even accidentally. Sure, nobody does, but I mean she REALLY didn’t respond well to it.
23 - She would have been one of those people you get sick of seeing appear on your Facebook news feed so often.
24 - She loved our nephews more than she loved anyone else on Earth.
25 - The Erin she put on display for people was as much of a reflection of who she always thought she wanted to be as who she was. And in some dark twist of irony, I think her illness and death was what finally gave her permission to reconcile the two.
