I've been gone because my grandpa died. And I've been gone because my computer died. I can't say which one has had the bigger impact on my time away from this space.

I've been home from LaPorte and the funeral and my old home for a full week, but it feels like mere moments. Or maybe like years. It doesn't feel like a week.

I am going to say some things now.


I feel sort of fractured, like my very identity is fogged up because the man who raised me up isn't here on Earth to treat me like a little girl. Or maybe I feel like he is fractured. Like a little bit of his spirit is everywhere now, in me and my mom and my cousins and my uncles and my grandma and we will all carry around the vague feeling of his shadow on our thoughts and actions. I think our little family fits together like pieces of an odd and interesting puzzle, and without Papa, I don't know what picture we make. Or maybe we will still make the same picture, but some of the pieces will glow bright and some of the pieces will begin to look like shadows and maybe I don't know and we aren't a puzzle at all.

Not only did my mom and I live with my grandparents and Uncles (who were 14 and 18 when I was born) from the time I was a baby until I was eight, but after we moved out my Papa and my grandma took me on vacations all over. Just the three of us. The three of us in a motorhome. In the first ten years of my life, we all spent hours that would fill up entire years doing nothing but hanging out without television or cell phones or computers. Just me and my family and Yahtzee and the piano. I think I want to start playing Yahtzee again. And playing the piano again.

I live two and a half hours away from my grandparents. From my grandma, now. And Uncles. And cousins. It's just far enough that I didn't drive it as much as I should have, when I had the chance. I am going to start driving it more.

That's all I am going to say tonight.

I had to BEG my workaholic husband to let me use his work computer to type this. Like, pry it out of his hands as he was editing his website. If anyone out there wants to buy me a computer, I won't object. And I will blog every single day. (In between games of Yahtzee, of course.)

I found these pictures when I was getting photo boards ready for the funeral. They're of a random night in the late 1980s when I was probably five. They feel so real and alive to me. This is what it felt like to be the little girl. The little girl in the white house who lived with a lot of grown-ups. Wonderful grown-ups.


I promise my next post won't be sappy, but I can't promise it will be posted anytime soon.

(PS. This is how out of it I am: I tried to find my blog reader on Luke's computer but had to google it because it obviously isn't saved as a favorite. I couldn't even remember what it was called. I typed "blog" into google, and then thought for a few seconds and then typed, "blogroll". This is a true story. It's "bloglines" Erin. Bloglines. Duh. I only use it EVERYDAY under normal circumstances. I miss reading your blogs. Please forgive me. )


  1. I wish for you a computer, and a piano, and some good Yahtzee dice rolls, and many, many cartwheels.

  2. Ok, you can totally reject me on this one...but we do have a extra working dell laptop computer (its even relatively new--we bought it in 2006)....it WORKS fine, but the screen has been cracked. We got a free older laptop from Josh's dad that we use now....and are saving up for a MAC. If you want our dell laptop, you are welcome to it. Unfortunately it costs $200 to fix the screen....and well....we just need to spend $200 on other things and Josh really wants a MAC :-)Let me know. Praying for you. I would love to see you sometime :-)

  3. I love these pictures. You look so happy and loved. And I am so on board with the idea of yahtzee and piano. We should start a movement: Less Texting! More Yahtzee!

  4. You are beautiful, inside and out. Honestly.

    Something very special absolutely radiates from you.

    And I am so very sorry for your loss and your pain.

    Thank you for reaching out and sharing. Listening, wishing I could hug you.

  5. I am so sorry for your loss. But so happy that you had such a wonderful relationship with your Grandpa and made memories to cherish forever.

  6. That was beautiful, sorry for your loss.
    (foodie sent me via twitter)

  7. This is a beautiful post. That's how I felt when my grandma died almost five years ago... like our family was somehow fractured... but you put it into words better than I ever could have.

    I'm sorry for your loss, but I'm glad you've found happy memories to cling to to help you through your grief.

  8. what an amazing post and better yet, amazing family. I remind my kid all the time, time with the family is more than just about stuff.

    I'm so so sorry for your loss.

  9. This was a nice post - caught it via Twitter. I wish I had more to say but I do not - thanks for sharing. :)

  10. Erin, I think you had a wonderfully charming childhood and the way you have written it beautifully memorializes something and someone so special.

  11. What a wonderful post, Erin. I love that you could share these thoughts and photos. You look just the same.


  12. hugs for you! i am sorry for your loss. this is a beautiful post.

    i would buy you a computer if i could. :)

  13. Thank you for sharing. This is a beautiful post.

  14. Yes, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. Everything- your words, your family, your memory, and these images... you are a special girl, and he must have been an especially special grandpa. I'm so sorry, and if anyone deserves a computer (for our sake, Luke!), it's you.

  15. That's a beautiful post, Erin. Really, really beautiful. You've perfectly described what it's like to loose someone who is so dear. Those pictures are priceless...makes me want to go over to my mom's and dig through old photos. :)
    Hope you get that computer soon! You've been much missed.

  16. So raw. So transparent. So beautiful.


  17. This is beautiful, and so are you.

  18. Yeah.

    More and more I think that we had very similar relationships with our grandpas.

    Not THE SAME of course, but similar. Because when you write about him my heart breaks with the remembering of mine.

    Come back whenever you have a computer and we'll be here reading :)

  19. Your childhood sounds a lot like mine. My Papa just passed away in Jan. and I still miss him a lot, and am sad that my 8-month-old only got to meet him once. I also regret not visiting him and my Nana more at the end of their lives. Anyway, I wish you comfort and lots of great memories to help you through this hard time.

  20. I love you, Erin. I wish I could mail you my laptop because you would use it to much better purpose than I do.

  21. I'm very sorry for your loss. The pics are fabulous and full of lovely kid enregy and happiness.

    As for the laptop, your husband needs to loan you his until you get another option. I like reading your blog as much as you like reading others. :-)

  22. Oh, Erin. I'm aching for you over here.

    Thanks for being so real even as you grieve.


  23. I never want to be responsible for keeping you from blogging... For my sake.

    But I'm glad we're kindred ENFP spirits. (Did you read the relationship characteristics? "gets bored easily and minds wander..." How awful, right?)

  24. I'm so sorry for your loss. How wonderful to have such great memories.

  25. Erin, I wish you didn't have to go through something so difficult.
    I'm sorry for your huge loss. The Lord is comforting you through all the encouraging comments here...
    just rest in His love.

    Hope you can blog again soon, I miss reading.


  26. Let me just say, I miss you! And your blog, I LOVE reading it!

  27. I hope you get a new laptop soon. I MISS YOU!!

  28. Oh Erin! I am so sorry.
    I love hearing about how you grew up with your grandparents. What lovely memories! So sweet and special! You wrote so beautifully about the puzzle theory ;)
    Sending you a hug and a prayer from NY
    Blessings, Molly