Do Not Erase Me.

December 8, 2020

As I soak in my grief, I distinctly hear my mother’s sweet voice. It’s a whisper, and can’t be real, for she’s been gone for years. 

As I find myself stuck in grief, consumed by it, I hear her voice again. This time it’s precise and intentional. A loving sigh that says, “don’t erase me.” The words punch me in the gut with a fierce reality shift. Don’t erase me? What does she mean? I’ll love her forever. Nothing could replace her significance or worth. Nothing could erase her. Nothing.

Another day comes. More longing, more ache, and more of grief’s debilitating consequence. As the breeze blows, my arm hairs find themselves just as raised as my senses. As the sun soaks my face, it’s there again, my mother’s voice. A soft and twinkling, “Do not erase me.”

And it confuses me. And it aches. And it’s as if some kind of knowing has found my heart and inspired my soul. 

It’s fading now, but still there, lingering. A light and dissipating “Don’t erase me.” 

And finally, I understand. She’s here reminding me to live. 

To let her love and legacy be extending through me. Through the beautiful and priceless life she started for me. Through the life that hurts, but still holds immense blessings and unique purpose. 

Do. Not. Erase. Me. 

By pausing life, I was erasing just as much of her goodness as my own. In waiting for my life to continue and make sense, I paused her legacy and her life’s story too. 

For her to stay, and be visible, it must be through me. Through us, her family. She’s entrusted us with the task of not erasing her, and all we have to do to honor that is to keep living. 

So today, I step forward, living, to ensure she’s never erased nor forgotten. Can you be courageous and do the same?

xox, Chels

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2 responses to “Do Not Erase Me.”

  1. Amanda Brown says:

    My sister was murdered in September of 2019.. I have been stuck in grief. I want to know why they did it. Who did it. Why her.. why?!?!

    Two beautiful girls miss their momma so deeply.

    Our parents and little sister.
    Our whole family.

    We needed her..

    We know she’s no longer in pain. No longer fighting her demons that stunted her deep wanting to live her life..

    Live. Laugh. Love. Was her favorite saying.

    And.. “What’s understood. Doesn’t need to be explained.”

    So, why. Why can’t I live the way she wants me too?? She needs me to live. My kids and her kids. They NEED me.. and I’m a fucking mess..

    This article, I believe, was pointed out to me by her. She NEEDS me to live for her. Be there for her girls the way she wants to be.

    She has never left my side.. and I hope everyday that she never will. I love her and miss her more than she will ever understand.. but at the same time.. I wouldn’t want her to grieve this deeply. She grieved so much in life.. I want her to be free. To be my spirit guide and help us watch over her babies.

    Thank you for making this site.. I NEEDED this message.

    • chelseaohlemiller says:

      Amanda, I am lifting you in fierce thoughts of love, comfort and hope. I hope you continue to find encouragement on my page. You are not alone in your grief journey and pain. We are all in this together! Shine bright, grief warrior. xox, Chels

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Chelsea Ohlemiller

Chelsea Ohlemiller

A thirty-something wife, mother and educator who has Indiana roots and a passionate spirit. Chelsea is a sappy romantic, coffee junkie, book collector, and person who wears her heart on her sleeve. She’s sarcastic, full of jokes, full of tears, and enjoys writing most when life gets messy or complicated. In 2017, Chelsea's mother passed away. Through her grief journey, she decided to take her mother’s advice and share her writing with the world. One day she gained the courage to honor her mother's wishes and write. It turned out to be one of the best decisions she's ever made.

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