What
Could Have Been
Today
is August 6th - it would have been Erin's
22nd birthday. I've just returned from the
cemetery where I spent about an hour trimming
the grass around her headstone - replacing
the weathered flowers in the
vases - talking to my daughter. That
is not exactly how most people start the day,
on their child's birthday. It's
not how it's supposed to be. Not exactly
the path we thought our lives would take.
As I sit in
the damp grass telling Erin how much I love
and miss her, I can't seem to get the
sound of the ER doctor's voice out of
my head. "Your daughter died . . ."
his voice trails off as I try to comprehend
what he is
saying, through the fog of panic that is quickly
overtaking my body. The sight of Erin lying
dead on a gurney, her head wrapped in a towel,
her body is ice cold. Her skin is bruised
and already taking on the
grayish color of the dead. She looked peaceful,
as if she were asleep.
My
thoughts turn back to another time that we
were in the hospital with Erin. It was 10:45
pm on August 6, 1979 - the evening she
was born. We were so proud of the life we
had created! Little did we know at that time,
just how much joy that 6 lb., 5 1 /2 oz. little
bundle would give us. And ultimately, how
much SHE would teach us. Erin was our first-born.
She was one of the three "lights of
our lives". She taught us the TRUE meaning
of life and love, and the meaning of parenthood.
She was the one that had to "pave the
way" for her younger sister and brother.
We all learned from her. We all have many
wonderful memories - memories that help
us get through each day - each holiday.
Erin
was on the Varsity Gymnastics Team at Sandburg
HS for four years, two as Captain. She
helped lead the team to 3rd Place in 1995,
and 4th Place in 1997 - only two weeks
before her
death. She was a Senior leader and on the
Honor Roll. She planned to go to Augustana
College to be a speech pathologist. Erin worked
at Tumbling-On-USA in Orland Park, teaching
young
children what she loved most, the art of gymnastics
and registered to a full-fledged coach to
help her students. After college she hoped
to marry and have children.
On
March 2, 1997, all Erin's hopes and
dreams for the future ended on a rural road
in Mokena, IL. She was one of three passengers
in a car driven by a man who had smoked marijuana
and was drunk. Since Erin had not used marijuana
and she was not drunk (as stated in her autopsy
report), we will never understand why she
chose to get into his car that night. Erin's
death affected us all in different ways. You
never know just how difficult each day can
be - each milestone in our lives -
each holiday. Our daughter, Kate, is now older
than Erin ever got to be. She is doing things
Erin never had the chance to experience. Our
son, Greg, is approaching Erin's age,
and will soon enough, surpass it, too. It
is difficult to watch them grow and NOT wonder
what our lives would be like today, if Erin
had lived.
Erin
was never, ever late and was ALWAYS home for
her curfew. Then she'd sit up into the
"wee" hours of the morning and
we would just "talk". I miss that.
More than anything, I miss how Erin would
say, "love you" as she left the
house or ended a phone call. Actually, our
last words to each other on March 1, 1997,were
"have fun - love you!"
When
a person CHOOSES to drive after drinking,
he or she is choosing the fate of another
human being. The driver of the car that killed
OUR daughter, Erin Elizabeth Olmsted, did
exactly that. He killed her. And in doing
so, killed a part of everyone that loved her.
Sandy
Olmsted
