10 years.

Grief works in hiccups and bubbles, in ocean tides and heavy winds. It ebbs, it flows. it cycles over and over......and over.


10 years without you, Erika. 10 years.

I don’t know how to make sense of that number.

(i’m not sure i want to). 


Most days, I get up and go to work, I carry on with the day to day. Other times it’s all I can think about. Usually when I’m driving. In the car is where it always seems to hit me the hardest. I’ve had to pull over because my crying is making me unsafe. Struggling to get my breathing under control, wiping my eyes so I don’t drive off the road.

Anger. How can you possibly get out of this stage. There’s no understanding, no acceptance. Actually, I’m still pissed off. 10 years later. 

I still get hung up on the unfairness of it all. It came without any warning, and it still feels like it had to have been a mistake. Her life was so full of love and family and friendship, and she had so much time left. We all did.

The amount of people I know in my immediate circle who have lost their mother is so overwhelming. And I’m only 26! So many young women without a mother, my heart aches for them so deeply. I sometimes feel guilty about my relationship with my own mom, how close we are, how many memories we’ve shared. I’m so thankful for her, and her constant love and support, yet I still feel guilty. Why do I get so much time with her, when so many people I love don’t get the same?


I think of my cousins, my uncle, my grandparents, my mom. all the things she’s missed, the family parties she hasn’t been apart of, the grandchildren she never got to meet. It hurts. It’s hard to get myself out of that cycle of thinking, that pit. Sometimes it feels good to cry, to sob so loudly your throat hurts and your eyes are still puffy the next day. But mostly, it hurts. 

And yes, the years have made it easier to talk about, they’ve dulled the shooting pain, they’ve forced me to rationalize, to try to find a reason. But only sometimes.

I guess that’s my point. 

Some days are good, some days are bad, and some days are downright terrible. That’s just how it goes. You don’t forget, you don’t heal, you just keep going.

You keep going for her.



Erika Louise (Kaufhold) Fiske

May 23, 1961 - January 23, 2009