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This is the
first that I could actually come here
to journal since April 1st.
Today is now April 4, 1996 - Thursday, 4 a.m.. ~~~~
I have come to write what I can about these last
hours and days. I hope that I can. Nothing seems
quite real to me. I have what is left of my son,
Eric, here in my lap. I have taken him with me
wherever I go since I picked up his ashes
yesterday. It is our last night together
in this world. In a few hours we will be
taking him to scatter his ashes to the winds, trees
and rocks of the mountains up on Judge Rye road, The
chronicle of these events begins on the above date.
I will first excerpt the following from a letter
written to my cyber-penpal-Arova. I was still numb
at the time... even as today - yet, there is a part
of me that seems separate and capable of breathing
and being responsible for all the things that these
last days have required of me to deal with in the
aftermath of Erics' death.
*******
Yesterday...
I had it in my
mind to ride with Eric to Winchester, to the funeral
home where he is to be cremated. We went to
Dellingers' (Our Funeral Home here in town) to
discuss with them those details and decisions that
one must deal with. We had been in touch with them
immediately so that they could go pick Eric up for
us. I thought, when we went to town, that I was
going to leave from there when the hearse arrived.
They explained to me though, that the ashes are left
for 24 hours to cool... so it wouldn't be possible
to do that. It was probably best that way - for in
the presence of his remains I think that I would
have had to see him - and we had both expressed to
each other - that we did not wish to be viewed in
death..... From the first moments when I wanted to
rush to Ferrum and do just that - I wrestled with
that so-strong desire. In the end - I kept reminding
myself of how I would feel if the positions were
reversed - and I know that I have always, always
made it plain - loud and clear - to my family, that
I want to be last-contact-remembered by/with them,
as a LIVE contact where I could embrace them and
speak with them. Once our spirit has abandoned its'
shell, I do not believe it is good or beneficial to
cling to the dead body rather than the ~real~ person
who has moved on to another existence beyond us but
remains with us as well... for it is not
their body that we loved... but their spirit. I had
never given a second thought to that expressed
desire - until those moments when I, still mortal
and bound within my own flesh - wanted to grasp and
cling to the familiarity of his.... I wrestled a lot
in those hours! I reasoned that it would not really
matter to Eric, and that he would want me to do it
if it was what I needed..... Yet, in the end.......
I could not break that promise we had vowed to each
other. I knew that I was not in any reasonable state
of mind - and knew that what I was wanting to do...
(Hold and embrace him...) would not be what I would
want him to do with me if the positions were
reversed... I have felt the stone-cold of a
spiritless body - and know that the touch remains
forever connected to that parting. Now that the
opportunity has passed and I managed to resist the
inner urge to hold on in any way I could to whatever
was left here of him.... I feel good that I did keep
the promise. I am sure too, that I feel a lot better
than I would if I had seen and touched the
lifelessness of that beloved form which I cherished
as part of its' inhabitant..... Had I chosen to
fulfil my own desire above Erics'.... I would have
had to live with that choice and knowledge of the
broken vow for the rest of my life.
I was amazed
to hear, while we were at Dellingers' - that flowers
had already been delivered - not from local people,
most of whom would not even know yet... but from
afar... from around the world even.... from my dear,
dear cyber family members in the chat group (50+
Chat) which I belonged to. The director took me to a
small room off of the main parlor, where he opened
the door upon an array of beauty and love which
those flowers and plants were representing..... In
the center of the grouping, sat a large ~Fireside~
type of basket - filled with the most beautiful
arrangement of plants and flowers I had ever seen in
my life. I reached out to open the card and found
that the 50+ group itself had sent it! I cannot
describe the incredible feeling that came over me,
surrounded me and filled me at that tangible contact
with my cyber family! My cyber-room-mates I always
called them... In those moments I could really feel
the arms, the love and support of REAL people behind
that basket of plants and flowers! A strength, from
them, to me, began to come into me and I felt so
comforted by the reality of what, until that moment
in time, - had been only ~cyber~ a distant
association with people ~out-there~ in the big world
- Now they had come into my own very small one and
were surrounding me and holding me right there and
then....
(The
strength of support and comfort has stayed with me
throughout that terrible ordeal and on into this
very day - a year
and a half later! The basket is
the centerpoint of my whole dining-room where it
stays in the center of the round
table there and thrives on and on.......... My
computer is also in the room.)
Click on basket for more pictures.... 
and 
for the bulletin board............ to read the
messages of love and support between my chat-family
and I, as they appeared on our `community bulletin
board' over the next few weeks.
From: gypsy@shentel.net
Date: Wednesday, April 3, 1996
Subject: Eric Lee Baker July1, 1973 - April 1, 1996
To: xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Dear Friend;
At 2:15, night before last, I was awakened by two
uniformed State Troupers who had come to tell me
that Eric had died around 10:30 in a car crash. He
and two of his best friends there at Ferrum had gone
to Rocky Mount to purchase some food and were on a
mountain road nearly `home' (back at the college)
when something large loomed into view. Eric,
attempting to avoid collision with the object,
apparently lost control of the car (?) in
compensating for the swerve (?)... the car went off
of the sloping edge of the road , turning around and
hitting a tree, sideways at the drivers' door with
such an impact that Eric was killed immediately. The
other two boys were hurt but are going to be okay.
They are emotionally overwhelmed, one, so much so,
that he cannot remember anything at all about the
entire day. The other could not even speak with me
(from his hospital room) - he tried, but was
incoherent and then just slipped into a
sleep. I tried to write to you
yesterday about it - but could not go about clicking
the buttons or typing - my fingers felt like lead
and I was very, very nauseated. I then checked the
Chat to tell you - hoping that you might be on. You
weren't - but SNICKI was and with great effort I
managed to type one or two lines (I think) to her.
She called me at once and the phone was right here
by me, I picked it up and we both cried. I made sure
to ask her that she especially notify you - as that
was what I had been attempting to do anyway. I hope
that she did.
This is all I can manage right now, dear friend. I
slept none of that night, little of last night and
in a few hours we will meet with our funeral home
director in town and perhaps, If I can (I want to) -
I may accompany the body to the next town where
there will be a cremation of the remains (everything
that they could use was harvested as soon as I could
speak the words to the waiting hospital about 20
minutes after they broke the news to
me. There will be a memorial at
college in the next days - we will attend that. Ours
here will be on Friday. I will then, with family and
his close friends, take him to a high mountain trail
which was very special to him, his Dad and myself
and there we will return unto the earth what is of
the earth, what is of the Lord, has already made
it's journey thereunto. This is in accordance to our
belief of how it was intended and right.
With love,
Your GYPSY - (Nina) *******
----------End of Original Message----------
The
present.... ***Thursday, April 4, 1996***
Now that I have begun with - and re-read it myself
as I entered the above
I find it most difficult to continue. I have not
been one to bend to defeat
in the face of difficulty though - and I will not
now either. I sat here asking myself -
"Why? Why is it so important that I do this
anyway?"
And the answer came right away - it is always there
just beneath
the consciousness of everything I say, do, think or
hear..... there are others
who will follow in the footsteps of any and every
experience I have....
If there be any value beyond myself - in the path
assigned to me, then
I must allow it to be reaped and harvested by any
who come along behind
me and happen upon my words - for words seem to be
the gift that You, Lord, have given me to use to
feed Your sheep. And so it is that even at times
that I myself find myself starving, needy and unable
to nurture my own self..... it may be that there is
food for Your sheep, Lord, in these words which
share all this... and so I offer it to a world and
people that I may never even come to
know.
There is one reason... well .... perhaps there are
two Lord.... First, I love You, my Abba. Secondly,
the pain is so great and I find it so difficult to
bear it, that if it may be that another might be in
similar circumstance and these words mightprovide
some tiniest bit of any comfort, wisdom, or strength
- then I must take from this experience what might
do that - and pass it on as a `good' that might come
of the agony of what I am now facing and feeling. I
don't know if `words' have ever come harder.
The effort of relating through this keyboard
is so great that I am trembling and feel more and
more leaden with the efforts I keep making. Time
keeps stretching out and I find it hard to relate
myself to it - or - `it' to myself. I have always
said that time is a `relative thing' and that only
the finite are bound by it. Eric has been released
from the constraints and responsibilities of time.
I... I am still here within it, and yet ..... it
seems to have lost it's power over me.... I feel no
pressing need to do anything whatsoever except as it
pertains to these final arrangements for the
disposition of the remains of Erics' life..... Not
just the physical - but all the friends, family and
others that have need of my helping them to hold
onto what they may, (and must) keep of my son, and
to help them to let go of that part of him which was
physical so that they may keep and carry with them,
that part of himself which he invested in them and
will forever continue on through us all as we live
and invest ourselves in the ~others~ of our lives
and deeds.
Upon
learning yesterday, that so many were planning to
come from Ferrum - Roger wisely suggested that we go
to check out the possibility of their attending the
farewell service off of old Judge Rye Road at the
outcropping of rock. (What a comforting place for me
to return to part with him - where the Holy Spirit
manifested itself and Gods' will that Eric should be
`saved' from an evil world and Satans' power.... for
truly, now, he has been.... I have come to
believe in these last days, that Eric was in a
mortal danger - drawing ever nearer to the
temptations and power of deceptions of these end
days. All who seek knowledge are! There is
rampant deception and Satan is truly roaming about
as the scriptures say of him, "Like a hungry
Lion, seeking whom he may devour".
Some souls He `gives up to delusion'..... and
some, "the very elect" He promised that
the days would be `shortened' for.
I believe that Erics' days may have been shortened
when he,
as a child of God who had reached out and taken the
blood of Christ as his worthiness and
adoption....had become a son of God....and then,
through his love of knowledge and through his
disillusionment in traditional ~religions of men~
became ever more enticed away from fellowship in the
midst of what he saw as superficiality and hypocrisy
. Not that he ever renounced his beliefs, but he
certainly questioned (as do we all) what he grew up
in the midst of experiencing - and in the course or
consequence - he was so open to studying every
philosophical avenue he encountered. He never chose
another ~way~ or ~belief~.... but I felt concern at
his estrangement with ~church-going~ ... and feared
that it could endanger him in his hungry searching
for truth and integrity ... (something to believe in
and identify with) for he himself had these
qualities manifestly). I felt concern that the
various philosophies might draw him ever more close
to a threshold that he had not yet crossed..... His
Heavenly Father, as any father would, may have
reached out and grabbed him from that danger.
Shatter my faith? as some fear for me at this
new pain and loss?
Nay - no never ! If anything, it has
increased it. For I know this... that if it
had been Satans' doing and his infernal
accomplishment of obtaining what belonged to
God..... the death would NOT have been so kind or
merciful as Erics' was. That mark
of mercy was Gods' gift to me - and His seal of
ownership and victory in the battle which was being
waged.
I know that once we leave this small world of
limited knowledge and understanding.... where
we "see through a glass darkly"....
we receive new vision and complete understanding of
what finite beings can not see or grasp entirely
while influenced and bound here in this realm. Eric,
lover of learning and understanding.... has now gone
beyond the limitations that restrain us here whom he
has left behind... And surely, surely - this has
been answered prayer as we have countless-times
pleaded with God that Eric and Roger be drawn back
to a closer union with Him.... In Erics' case, the
drawing back was total and entire... and so too -
was the gift of salvation which he asked for and
received in faith as such a small child.
Gods' promise kept.
His love and power manifested.
And so I say to this, as I seek always to say to
everything........
Amen, Abba...Amen.
At last, Eric has been freed from the
misrepresentations of the many `others' who claimed,
themselves, to be of God and His love -
He now knows, I believe, and sees, who and what God
is. Gone are those influences which confused him and
planted seeds of doubt which God did not allow to
take hold and grow..... For, as He has promised us -
He is with us always. He was with Eric on that dark,
lonely road where his life ended.
They are together now. And one
day, I will be with them too.
Eric, my son.... whose hunger and thirst for
knowledge and understanding exceeds any I have ever
known - now knows all things... understands all
things... and is safe. How could I ask
for more for him? Even for myself,
selfish as I am in wanting him with me. I would not
alter the circumstances.
I can say that now.
I can mean that
now.
I think that means that I can be at peace
now.
Even I, Lord and loving Abba.... as I was taken to
be `counseled & `treated' - in those first hours
- You steadfastly held Your hand on the situation
and maintained Your hedge around me so that I could
and would depend on You and allow Your Will to
unfold itself exactly as it was meant and intended
by You.... And now - I find that it has. I am here
now. It is finished. Peace is surpassing all
understanding. Trust in You even imparts the
understanding when we can but be still and know that
You are God! I have been still. I know.
I KNOW - that You are God.
Later....
As I ask Erics' friends about his possessions -
if there be any that they feel they would like to
have in remembrance of their relationship and time
spent together.... I find that each
thing is so strange a `parting'..... I feel glad
that there is that association and that they wish to
hold it to their hearts.... yet, because it is a
thing Eric loved - I somehow want to hold onto it
too! ......The selfishness is far outweighed by the
love of God which abounds (as He is so wonderful to
provide in me) and I find a bittersweet joy in the
giving of something that I want to
keep..... It is a most
peculiar thing to attempt to describe -but the
feelings are so powerful that I must at least
try..... I guess the best description would be to
say that it is like planting
seeds of Eric.....
Later....
For several days now - I have wrestled with
the idea of phoning Erics' room to hear his voice
which has now been forever stilled at its'
source.... I could not. Strangely - it was one of
the first things I desperately pleaded for, for
someone to obtain for me, from Ferrum ( the voice
mail recording)! Yet I could not bring myself to
insure the obtaining of it by simply calling there
myself and recording it! Oh - how I WANTED to! Yet,
I just could not...... to call there and have him
answer- it was too great a conflict of the reality I
am trying so desperately to
embrace.... This morning
though.... I came here at 4 a.m.
(to write in journal) and I had this strong
awareness ...... as I sat here typing
- the phone just inches
away....... and the possibility that I
might hear that voice again, there with
it. In that perplexity of strong,
and strongly opposing emotions - I reached for
the phone... fearing both that the
recording would already be gone - the line
dead.....
AND...
fearing that his voice might answer as well....
not knowing how I would handle either circumstance -
for both seemed unbearable. Unbelievable still, at
times....
At last.....
unable to forego the longing for the sound forever
silenced now..... I picked up the phone, and
with as much courage as I have ever had in my
life, I called his room.......
(continues on next page, click below)
Later...
The balloons...
Yesterday, while we were up there
climbing those rocks and checking the terrain for
those who wish to accompany us to the
`closure'...... So many of those voices of Erics'
friends.... all of us saying the exact same
things.... "It doesn't seem real" "I
can't believe it" "It just doesn't seem
possible that we will never see him" or
"hear him...." - And I have been so very
concerned with the difficulty for all of us... and
up there, where heaven and You Lord, seem so close
that if we could just stretch ourselves a few inches
more than our maximum..... we could touch the sky
..... knock at Your gate..... the vision came to me.
That's when the symbolic benefits of the releasing
of balloons came to me. I wanted to release 22
balloons in a moment when, after prayer and coming
to peace with it.... I could let Eric go by act of
my own will and not the forced-upon-me circumstance
of his death. I knew that I needed to do that. I
know that all of us need to do that. And therefore -
my imagination filled with the sight of each and
everyone who came to say good-bye to Eric - having
their own personal balloon, to release there in the
moment of their own choosing..... to heal them and
allow Eric to be a welcome and comfortable part of
their life again - instead of being a pain that they
must hide from....
Still
later....
We will be having them come to the house too.
Just a simple `refreshing' time of some `snackies
and soda' that seem so befitting of what Eric would
enjoy having his friends do at his home...... So we
have decided upon popcorn, chips, Oreos, chocolate
chip and vanilla sandwich cookies and Cheeze-itz....
and - OF COURSE - lots of Dr. Pepper (with some
alternative choices of soda).... what could a party
for Eric be without Dr. Pepper?
Night....
I
have drawn such a contentment from having Erics'
ashes at my side. It is such a strange thing - I
know.... but it's as if I have been climbing a high
mountain, am near the top, exhausted, torn and
bleeding from the efforts I expend... and his
presence has given me a rest from this
`giving-up-of-him. For these hours - I have been
able to hold him very, very close and feel his
physical presence which will be no more with me by
tomorrows' evening... It has given me a time to
"snuggle-with-him" again - in a way that
mothers no longer do with their sons who are grown.
Sure - we hugged, and we kissed and even held hands
sometimes - but this sort of cuddling you do with
your babies and small children. He weighs in now at
8 pounds..... Less than at his birth.... He is my
baby again. I have carried, swayed and rocked him. I
have even seen Peach rock him while sitting. It is a
thing of wonder to discover our "way" as
we pass through this time....
Dear
Me..... ` Friday, April 5, 1996
I know you are doubting -
here in these early hours of morning and
mourning - that you can go on. It feels like you
want to stand still and hold onto your little boy.
Remember how the stages arrived and the `letting go'
thresholds had to be crossed? This
is but another one. You can do it.
but my soul whispered..... "Can
I?"
Yes
- I know. When you awoke this morning,
the `Meekie'-wrapped box there inside the covers and
even a bit on your little blue satin pillow where
your head lay... (Buffy having lain on the other
side of him with her head resting on him all
throughout the night as though she KNEW that her
"brother" lay inside) - and felt that the
whole box was very warm from the `cuddling'.....
there was a desire to KEEP him. Well, there is no
real keeping of him in our power, and I well know
that, - but to keep the warmth in him and to draw
the comfort of that presence of his remains -
forever.
Yet - I would not wish that he should remain a
sterile compilation of ashes locked up forever
within a black box.... No - my wish is that he
should live on in our hearts and to do that - we
must not cling to black boxes with hidden-from-view
contents. Those remains are a concentrated source of
elements which will be eagerly taken up into the
majestic trees which grow in that inaccessible
terrain - wild and undisturbed. Made inaccessible by
the rock formations among which they grow. There he
will be a part of a rare thing on this earth-for
there are few places which man does not covet from
it! This place will not ever - until the Lord
returns - ever be raped or ravaged by
man. This is a quiet place of peace and
tranquility to which I offer what Eric has yet to
give away... There will be no desecration. And I - I
know that I too will join him there one day. What a
wonder that a son should come from a mother and then
the mother shall one day return and join the son in
a unity of common particles within trees, shrubs and
flowers there.... It comforts me. I also must BEWARE
lest it entice me too....... I almost feel that
already. You my Abba, have walked with me through
the shadow of death so many times that I would be
hard pressed to number them. I feel Your Almighty
presence ever-the-more when I am weak like this....
Later...
(actually, the following portions are being written
today, which is Saturday)
As I went to the front door.....
( I keep doing that almost as if to see if you,
Eric, won't be pulling up in the driveway again
after all...) I saw two white plastic wrapped
bundles there in the grass - .......the 200 papers,
my son, which we purchased to give away to your
friends today - the issue with the "A Mothers
Story", Obituary which I wrote and paid them to
publish in it. I can no longer give you anything
except by giving to them - and so I will...
A few feet away, the sight of our very first
Daffodil of the Spring opened to this days' sunrise
- greeted my eyes too. A gift for me given - I truly
believe, in honor of the day and a farewell to Eric
too. I shall take it with us, I think, and place it
upon the memorial table with his other things, to
share with others.....
We left early - yet there were others already
there. I have never had to be more
courageous in all my life - than in those moments of
setting up the memorial table.... I
`almost' succumbed to the grief several times, but
managed - with Your Power & Grace which is
mightier than all else..... to maintain the
composure that I so wanted in order that I remain
capable of meeting and interacting with the
gathering of friends who so loved my son.
When
Jon arrived, he gave Peach and I each a red
rose.... I'm unsure about the meaning of it - but
Jon knew and that was all that mattered.... The
roses spoke of love - love between the four of us
(Jon, Eric, Peach and I) for each other - and I
needed no further explanation.
Walters'
eulogy was just wonderful. He even used scriptures
that I have chosen to be read just before we set him
free (yes - I KNOW his spirit is free and it is only
the body that we are dispersing up there - but many
of those gathering have NOT set him free in their
hearts and I so want them to do that as well) up
there at the rock outcropping. He began the service
in a `breaking tradition manner' which would have
brought a grin of approval from my son.... "I
usually have everyone rise at the beginning of the
service - " he said ""but I know that
Eric would not have wanted anyone to do that, so I
won't." He spoke of the love and bonding with
Peach, which was wonderful - because the papers
would not even put her name in as a survivor because
it had to be `NEXT' of kin...... not even aunts,
uncles, nieces or nephews.... (I put her in the paid
obituary though)
The ENYA music was so perfect playing there - Eric
would have absolutely loved it that so many who had
never heard our favorite music - did so now and
asked who it was because they fell in love with it
too....
Afterward, I met so many, many people with faces to
try in a brief moment to attach faces and memories
of Erics' speaking of them - to. Even Noel, still on
crutches, came to the service. Eric Cardwell
couldn't make it yet - but will be at the
candlelighting service.
It
was quite cold up on Judge Rye Road and windy as
well - and out on that rock the winds bit like knife
of steel. The first thing we did was set up Erics'
huge boom-box near `the' rock - atop the large ones
just behind it. Enya began to play again in that
sweet, haunting way of hers.....
Carrying all the flowers was quite an
accomplishment! Few helped - which
surprised me a little - but then - I'm sure that no
one was really `thinking right' at the time. I
carried a share too - wanting to do it for my
son.... We removed a lot of the flowers from their
containers and lay them in great piles up there on
the rock where we later threw them after the
ashes. Others were set at several
points along the ridge for those who wished to throw
tribute of flowers but were not comfortable with the
rocky path which led to the outcropping where we
stood.
When
the last balloons were ready (the 22) - Roger read
from Ecclesiastes 12:7 and said a few words and then
I released the balloons at the end of Erics' chosen
song, "Silent Lucidity". I felt a pain so
acute but also a thrill of the release of him and
found an almost exuberant joy inspired by the words
`A soul set free to fly' ..... there is that longing
within all of us, for that moment of our mortal
release when we know our souls will soar free.....
It is amazing to me - that although not a one of us
had ever experienced a service of this kind - we all
seemed to be bound in a common unity of spirit and
desire which focus was to set Eric free and allow
him to give what there was left of himself to a
world he no longer inhabited otherwise.
We
played Enya at Dellingers' and up there with us at
the dispersal site - before and after the song
(which Jon brought with him) he had requested be
played in the event of his death. (I'm repeating
myself - I know....) SILENT LUCIDITY by Queensryche
Jeanne
had agreed to the great task of preparing all the
balloons. Roger managed to bring them out to the
rock to me (which was an incredible accomplishment
amidst all the bare branches of early spring and the
thorny bushes and vines which managed to burst a
few) where I waited with Eric for those last minutes
before he would be freed. Such an incredible
accomplishment really - when looking back on it from
here - it's a wonder that all agreed to carry
through my desires!!! But then - like mother, like
son - and Eric and I were so alike in our
non-traditional mind-set and dreams - that it was
probably very familiar and appropriate to them to be
doing this final thing with him in such an
unheard-of way....
It would seem so impossible - and yet I
suppose that Eric, himself, and his love of the
unique and 'being different' lent inspiration to us
to do it as we did. There just could not have been
any other way for us to deal with his death. He will
be remembered and his memorial will stand out as
being about as unique as any could be....... As I
listened to the words of the song (which I had never
before heard in my life) - I felt eagerness rise up
in me to DO IT! Not a shred of reluctance remained
after I heard those words "A soul set free to
fly" .... I could almost see Eric there with us
and hear him saying with a grin and twinkling
eyes... "This is totally awesome mom!"
Then
- I was amazed that so many were inspired to join me
in setting him free to fly!!!!! It was such an
inspired and inspirational unfolding of events.
There were many hands that stepped up to participate
in the releasing! Not a one of us had EVER been in a
cremation experience before - and many - if not
MOST, seemed initially uncomfortable with the whole
idea of it - but when I explained our thinking about
confining rotting flesh inside of one box and then
inside of another box and then inside a hole to be
forever confined and shut away from earth and sky in
the useless form of remains that could never return
to the life cycle in any way..... I could see the
dawn of understanding in the new light of shared
thinking. But to see those same people move past ALL
their traditional thinking and discomfort with the
idea of death - and into the spirit of dispersing
Erics' remains to be taken up and made into various
new forms as his soul was set free.....by taking
those remains into their own hands and scattering
him there..... that was a miracle to see.
I think perhaps - that Eric and I will have made
every one of those people more comfortable with
their own mortality and inevitable
end. I think that they too have a
glimpse now that all ends are a beginning.
I kept a small amount to scatter at the lake he so
loved at Ferrum, (Philpott Lake). We will do that
when we go on Monday. I hope though - that the
essence of him will forever be borne through the
lives he touched. I know that will certainly be the
case in some of us.
The
ashes are surprisingly dense and heavy - it took
some time to disperse them. The flowers followed and
I felt it, in those brief few moments, to be a
celebration of his release. Oh, would that it could
have remained so in my heart. It did last for a
while - but then the weight of still being here and
earthly-care bound, fell over me in a heavier mantle
than I have ever worn before...
Most came home with us. For a while, I was well
anesthetized by the presence and needs of the large
group of people. When they left - the silence drew
in on, around and within me. I began to feel sort of
robotic..... Tending to Brandis' medications,
breathing treatments and a short snuggle time. I
know that I am a bit divided as sometimes happens
within me in overwhelming situations (and I have
never been more overwhelmed!). I think that only God
will be able to reunite me. Meanwhile - it is
probably a mind-saving mechanism that is serving me
well. I will leave it to God to restore the
unity.....
More....
After
tending to Brandi - I went to bed. I could not bring
myself to even shower because there had been winds
which had carried some of the ash-dust over me and
into my hair and I wanted it to remain
there. I went into Peachs' room for a
little while - to go through some of his things
there - but there is no hurry... In fact... I
probably feel inclined to leave the things there as
if he just arrived home for the summer.... I did
want to find the song which, at Erics' request, John
had brought to be played at his funeral. I know that
Eric too must have a copy of it in his collection -
seeing that he loved it so much.
I
could feel Eric so present in each person here.
I
am sure that they too felt a closeness to him in
being in the home of his birth and
life-span. The car which
carried Noel, had gotten separated from the others
and they came here and climbed in a window to wait
for us. I was so pleased to see that they had felt
at home enough to do that! Eric would have been too.
These 5, missed their opportunity of releasing their
balloons, so we did it right in the front yard
before they left. It was good for them -
I was with them and saw that it was so.....
Just before he left, Jon took me into my room
and gave me the car-keys and Erics' wallet. He had
carried that wallet about 7 or 8 years!!! Jon said,
as he handed it to me "I tried to give him
another one a couple of times, but he said
"This is the only one I've never lost"....
One of the car keys was broken in half! Imagine the
force that it took to do that to a KEY - and what
that did to flesh and bone then.... In the wallet
there were two pictures of his Brandi and $32.00.
When I removed the various cards to put away in the
box where I keep my own old cards it seemed somehow
too final or something - to do right now - so I put
them back. I was going to put the money in my wallet
- but could not bring myself to do that either. It
just didn't seem possible that I should `take' my
sons' money. It was, in fact, the first and only
time I had ever seen the inside of his wallet! There
had always been such a loving and intimate closeness
and respect of each other that we, neither of us,
had ever found it necessary to snoop or to pry in
secret...... So it felt so terribly
`intrusive' to be in his wallet or going through his
personal things.... I know I must, and will, at some
point... but for right now - I simply put everything
back and put it into my nightstand.
I did go through his dirty clothes to find a
shirt he had worn, needing the scent of him to help
me make the transcendence from `here to there' of
acceptance of his sudden disappearance from my life.
But I wonder - "Can anything do that?"
April
6 & 7 1996 - Saturday & Sunday
Except
for that early morning part - I could not write
yesterday..... there was no time or energy left in
me to do so after the services, the gathering here
at the house of friends and family and the absolute
exhaustion which took me the moment the last friends
had gone. I have come now and related the details of
the rest of the day. The rest of the time is sort of
hazy. I seem to go in and out of awareness of where
I am, what I'm doing (which isn't much), what I'm
thinking (which also isn't much), but NEVER of what
I am feeling! Never of what I am feeling.
I
get so cold! .......Sometimes I tremble of the
cold that seems to come from within instead of
without. I need this to be a
terrible dream. I need to awaken. I need my son!
Sometimes I cry aloud and I hear the agonizing sound
of it haunting as the howling of wolves. As a
result, my voice is barely recognizable even to
myself. My aching throat and neck are swollen and
sounds come forth with great difficulty and low
volume. Suicide does not beckon. I want to die YES!
- but there is no whispering that it is the only way
to escape the pain or that I should bring it about
by my own hand. I know that I must endure, not
escape it. I do not understand it - but I know it.
I am relying on my Abba to keep me in the path of
righteousness as the shepherd of my life. How then,
can I fail. Right now - I keep stumbling and falling
- but I will not fail..... I will crawl at first,
and then I will begin again to walk.... For now
though, - it seems that I am not even able to crawl
or drag myself...... I go from one responsibility or
event to the next - and in the in-between-times, I'm
not sure where I am or what I'm doing. I fall asleep
easily. That is a merciful thing and I am grateful
for it.
Monday,
April 8, 1996
We
left earlier than planned. Peach rode with Jeanne
because Jeanne didn't want to be crowded into my
small car with us (which would have been a close
fit). It was good, because we had taken Buffy along
and there was a comfortable room for the two of them
in the back.
As
we passed the site where Eric took his last breath,
there was no mistaking it as such. I was trying to
say the words and Roger knew and said them for me -
"You want to go back?" - more a statement
than a question - he already knew..... Such powerful
emotions fought for supremacy - all won... It is
very hard to sit here and relate this part - for it
brings it so clearly into my consciousness that the
pain is just unbearable.....
The
tree. The
spindly barbed-wire fence down upon the ground. The
damned insulation material (part of it) laying there
...... glass and parts of that Eric-beloved Firebird
strewn all around. I got out of my car almost before
Roger brought it to a stop. Then it was a kind of
slow motion thing. Looking at this part and that.
The field. The glass. A lens from his glasses. The
cut high upon the tree. Bits and pieces of soda
bottles - some creme-filled scones (Erics' - for
sure). Half of a cassette box with Erics' writing on
the lines. I bent down to touch .... first the
ground itself. "My son died here...." Then
picked up pieces of things for some strange reason
which I still do not comprehend. Simply reaching out
with stretched fingers to only touch others and
leave them lay.... I found myself standing aside
watching me as I did these strange things...
wondering and conjecturing about why I was doing
them. I never did come to any answers... or
understanding. Not of myself. Not of the reality.
Not of the death. Not of the present moments or
actions.
I
stood up and just felt such a confusion of agony as
I tried to relate to what I was seeing in the
aftermath of my sons' death... I went up to the tree
and put my arms up and lay against the spot where
Eric was thrust violently to an instant death and I
cried in that terrible and intense wailing that
comes of itself and tears at the flesh of my throat
and the substance of my very being.... shredding me
The
farmer who owned the field was plowing behind his
house. He stopped and came to us. The first thing he
said was how sorry he was at our loss. The second
thing he said was "Right there's what caused
the accident..." pointing at the remains of the
insulation we had heard about. It was a very long
black wire or string and plastic that lay there
inviting me to go into a blind rage..... The man
went on to say that he thought it had probably even
interfered in the steering of the car as well as the
other material blocking Erics' view....
As
we stood talking, another man came to join us. He
had been working on his truck in the driveway of his
home and saw us there. He had with him a bag which
contained three more of Erics' personally dubbed
tapes and - the three necklaces from the rear-view
mirror which Gene and Jon had tried so valiantly to
find for me when they came up to get his things. Oh
- how I had wanted that one necklace that Eric had
said, again and again, he loved so! I had given it
to him the first Christmas that he had the car! He
often reached up and held it in a little mini-carress
when he spoke those words! It was thought that they
were lost. Now, this stranger had brought them here
to us and it lay in my hand. I gave one immediately
to his sister, Jeanne, the other, I gave later to
Gene at the chapel during the candle-lighting
service
The
farmer told us the car was a short way back from
that spot, covered in a blue tarp. I knew as soon as
he spoke it - that I must make the journey there too
before I could be `done with it'. I'm glad that I
did. Although it was a horror, to be sure - and as
terrible a vehicle I have EVER seen anywhere.... It
left no doubt as to the merciful suddenness of death
.....
I
saw the T-shirt they cut off of Eric at the
scene. I cannot describe with what nauseating fear
and dread I reached into the car from the passenger
side (there simply was NO drivers' side!) and picked
it up from the floor - knowing at once that it was
Erics'. Slowly - oh - so, so slowly, I opened the
material up and held it out. There were the scissors
marks. There were other cuts and tears from who
knows what source. But there was not one drop of
blood. Not one. My heart then knew a final peace of
assurance that the death was absolutely
instantaneous. The only blood was on the head rest
and seat belt - and that, not a large amount. His
head had been cut. I knew that. But the bleeding had
stopped so quickly that it was of a certainty that
the impact stopped everything at once. My son had
suffered enough pain in his short lifetime - he had
not exited in its grip!
My
eyes scanned every inch of the interior to drink
in the atmosphere of the last of my sons' life.
There were snackies and foods that he loved so
dearly and I found myself smiling and imagining the
feast the three guys were about to prepare when they
arrived back at the dorms.... There on the floor, I
saw an 8 pack of his favorite `Cheese on Wheats' and
on the seat lay a box of four Cadbury cream-filled
Easter eggs that I ALWAYS bought for him because he
so enjoyed them..... (and I so enjoyed him enjoying
anything that I took delight in getting them)....
Later - at the service, when I mentioned them - Noel
said that it was the last thing Eric had picked up
as they got the food - saying to them that his Mom
always bought them for him every Easter. "Got
to have these" he'd said......
It
began to rain. I have always thought it a poignant
thing when rains fall at a funeral as though God and
the angels were shedding their tears with you.... At
the memorial service in the chapel on campus - many
friends and faculty spoke and it was so good for me
to hear the reality of Eric that they had received
in themselves and would carry in memory and perhaps,
in their lives and characters.
I
was given the framed award certificate he would
have received at the dinner on the 12th. They also
said that the English award he had been chosen to
receive would be given to us later and that his name
was to be engraved on a bronze plaque and put up in
Roberts' Hall and that the award would forevermore
be given in Erics' name. What joy that would have
given him! What a tragedy that most such decisions
are made posthumously! It is nice for the friends
and family - to be sure - but it is a bittersweet
kind of thing in that death is the initiator of this
honoring.
I do not know what I would have done without Roger
to capture the taping and take photos of it all - I
had barely the strength to stand or - for that
matter.... to sit there. I had no consciousness
`lapses' though. Every moment is etched upon my
heart and mind. Every face, every word.......
Gene
knew the whereabouts of the lake Eric had so often
spoken of. I had brought a small portion of the
remains to be scattered there because Eric had said
he'd spent so many many hours there.... done so many
things there... felt such inspiration there... It
seemed that a bit of him should remain in that
place....
We went to the bridge and delivered our gift from
there in the light-misty rain. I dropped the one
black rose and amazingly - it sunk right down into
the water and out of our sight as if it knew it was
to remain there with Eric!
Present
day....
I
am very, very numb.... There is just too much pain
to incorporate my ~selves~ at this time. I gathered
his folders and notebooks and went through them -
grateful that he has kept his `important papers' in
an order that will make it easier to tend to the
details that will be necessary in the days and weeks
ahead. So like my son, to ease my way where and when
possible....
As
ever - I find his poetry work difficult at times to
understand - but always, always, profound and
moving..... As I went through the pages - unable to
read with much concentration - I found so much
mention of pain..... To the world and to many
critical spirits... he might have seemed negative,
critical and cynical - but his poetry reflects the
sensitivity, tenderness, vulnerability and
agony..... That is the part of him that God knew
beyond the coping mechanisms and the outer pretense
of indifference or disdain... The task was an
emotionally enormous one to face - and I kept
feeling almost as though I were going to faint. My
vision began to blur and `slide' in an odd
sleepiness that I could not fight - so I lay down
and slept.
Sunday,
April 7, 1996
It is a strange day. I felt strange... almost
like slipping in and out of consciousness. Like
falling asleep with my eyes open. I'm beginning to
get dizzy when I stand up. I feel the oppressive
emptiness of Erics' absence from the world with me -
and I push it back - fearing that they will take me
to a hospital or something. I just need time to
allow it to move in on me as I assimilate and adjust
to the reality which came too suddenly.
Life
seems "beside the point" right now.
So
much of what I have done was a gift to Eric.
There was always the thought
that I would be with
him in the form of the many services (knitting,
sewing, favorite recipes and such everyday `love gifts'
I invested myself in for him. Now - what
does any of that mean? What do I do with
them? (quilts, art, etc. etc. etc.)
Remember that they were
gifts to a son who lived only 23 years?
It then becomes a sort of tribute to tragedy -
does it not?
Does
tragedy deserve a tribute? NO!
Journal
of Nina Roberta Baker
|
~ My
Grief Journal ~ 
*I
KNEW*.....
down
deep inside, I think I
knew.....
I
just didn't know who... and
yet... I
believe that I probably
even suspected or knew
even that as well.... somewhere
inside,
on some level...
