Erin's Journals

This won’t be a long one – I have about 77% on a dying battery and am not guaranteed a power supply on the plane.
 
I’ve many stories and observations to share with you after a whirlwind (almost) two weeks in Ontario but there was news of a death to which I had no real, personal connection that shook me yesterday as I’m sure it did many people.
 
For those who grew up or were in our younger years when a show called Beverly Hills, 90210 was a hit from 1990 to 2000, the ensemble cast members were as familiar to us as those of any show – surpassed perhaps only by the team on Friends. Luke Perry was the “bad boy” James Deanish brooding character who broke hearts and saved the day. I was past the age of having a crush on TV characters or actors (save a few more mature actors like George Clooney) but Luke Perry’s Dylan certainly did have his share of fans.
 
When we heard late last week that the actor had suffered a stroke, it was news taken (at least in our household) with some concern, but with a great big block of salt. After all, how many times have we heard from “news outlets” that a star was at death’s door, only to learn that they were alive and well? (That’s part of the reason I didn’t chime in with thoughts, prayers or anything else when I heard of Olivia Newton-John being on her proverbial death bed.)
 
You just don’t believe that stuff, especially when it’s about someone who’s not only in the midst of a career surge (a cast member on Riverdale, but he had apparently signed up for the upcoming reboot of 90210).
 
Yesterday, the worst news was not only confirmed – it was indeed a massive stroke – but that it had taken his life. He was 52 years old. As Toronto radio host John Moore put it, “And everyone my age is humbled by life.”
 
I get exactly what John was saying. Rob feels the same way when he hears of someone in their sixties dying. But here it is: we should all be humbled by life. Every single day. In our lives, the fact that a healthy 24-year-old can stop breathing – her heart simply stop – in the middle of the night should be enough for everyone just to take a moment and be grateful. For the heart that beats, the lungs that fill, the liver that functions and the brain that keeps us operating. 
 
But the fact is, we don’t. We simply don’t treat our bodies as we should: we celebrate an hour at the gym three times a week when we should be active every single day. We drink or smoke (or both); we do things that if we had to look a doctor in the eye and tell her about it, we might wish to look away. I speak not for all of us but for myself and, I’m assuming, many of us. 
 
A lot of us treat our bodies the way we should only when we’re carrying a baby. Then, we stop any risky behaviour, we give up our sins and reconsider everything from caffeine and artificial sweeteners to the more obvious poisons in alcohol and cigarettes. But why don’t we treat our bodies like that for our entire lives?
 
I’ve digressed here because, for all I know, none of this could apply to Luke Perry. The man who played Dylan McKay on TV could have lived a life of bean sprouts, marathons and meditation; I have no idea. All I know is that life is so damned precious that the death of someone we know – even if it’s just through the TV 20 years ago – is a reminder that there are no promises. A contract signed for a new series (even a reboot) is no guarantee you’ll be around when that season hits the airwaves.
 
It’s “just a celebrity,” but it’s a man’s life. It’s a death. It came on the 25th anniversary of John Candy’s passing and it all just hits home.
 
Life is humbling. Leave nothing unsaid, leave no love unspoken. Do the things you have wanted to do and leave nothing until the day you retire or you find the time. 
 
The time is now and you are alive. Be humble.
 

I hope you enjoyed the sunshine that visited us in Ottawa on the weekend and if you want someone to thank, that would be us. After taking our lives in our hands with a rental car in Toronto that had tires that weren’t fit for swinging on, we made a decision to pay an extra $17 a day for snow tires when we rented an SUV in Ottawa. Good call, I’d say; even though we never had to put them to the test, it was worth it for the peace of mind that came with driving our sweet little boy here and there.
 
Today (after a phone interview with Ken Eastwood at News Talk 1290 CJBK in London to air at 8:20 am), we’ll hop in the car and drive to 1310 News for a late-morning interview with Ottawa host (and Lauren and Phil’s former co-worker) Mark Sutcliffe. After that, we’ll take our precious boy to lunch, head back home and pack up for the flight to BC this evening. 
 
This weekend was a blur – much like the week that preceded it – although we tried to be present for the best moments: making scrambled eggs with little Colin two mornings in a row, Rob taking him five-pin bowling for the first time, enjoying a taco dinner and special “no occasion” cake, spa time with Brooke. Tuck-ins and wake-ups, bath times and play times. All of them things that grandparents who live closer to their heart’s desires get to experience so often, all of them things we cherish and try to hold in our hearts until next time.
 
Saturday, it was late in the day before Rob went out to pick up newspapers, as we’d heard there were some pretty impressive sales lists that I would want to see. That’s the subject of my pal Lisa’s blog today and, thankfully (because I don’t know if I can post bestselling rankings without being accused of feeling too full of myself), I can share in her pride here. Please do take a minute to read Lisa’s blog (today and every day) and I’ll be back with you here tomorrow. 
 

Remember that old folk saying that if March comes in like a lamb, it’ll go out like a lion (or vice versa)? I can’t speak for the weather, but for us, this month is going out like a Tasmanian Devil. NOT that there’s anything wrong with that!
 
I asked your kind forgiveness for going on about this whole book release and tour. It’s been a huge part of our lives for about two years and this week has been the culmination of so very much: some wonderful kind of alchemy that has turned a nightmare into something of a dream that we didn’t even dare envisioning. It’s wonderful, it’s awful, it’s bizarre and, through it all, we are grateful.
 
Yesterday I did something I’ve never done before and just ahead of a story of a very interesting sign from Lauren (yes, everybody seems busy trying to get through to us these days), I wanted to tell you about this experience.
 
After landing at around 8 am in bright but brisk Ottawa, we picked up our rental SUV (paying an extra $17 per day for snow tires, if you can believe it) and headed downtown. After we stopped off for copious amounts of coffee (five hours’ sleep will do that) and a breakfast sandwich, Rob dropped me at CBC Radio Canada on Queen Street in Ottawa.
 
I pre-taped an interview with Ottawa Morning host Robyn Bresnahan to air today and then was escorted to a very small windowless studio that resembled the Whisper Room that my dad bought and set up in his seniors’ condo so he could practise his sax and clarinet without disturbing anyone. 
 
I killed about an hour’s time before my first interview with a host in Quebec. Then about half an hour after that ten-minute chat, I spoke with a woman in Halifax, then one in Saskatchewan, another in Manitoba, and later a gentleman in Calgary. All in all, with scheduling as it was, I was there for five hours.
 
I sat in that room, careful to have my iPhone ringer off, and chatted with these hosts located in so many far-flung places. (Why BC wasn’t on the list, I’m not sure, but I hope to be able to visit CBC in Victoria one day soon!) Each interview was different, each host had his or her own style. And all of those chats will run at various times this weekend.
 
With the message of hope and joy (and love after loss) contained in Mourning Has Broken spreading across Canada, I’m hoping that the Ontario-heavy sales numbers will start to change. I’m not so concerned about the sales – which are beyond my wildest dreams at this point – but about the message getting through. And that’s why this week, including last night’s final book signing for this trip, the radio interview today and the CTV noon chat in Lauren’s old office building in the Byward Market mean so much.
 
The question, “Was writing this cathartic?” seems to be a common one, although nothing could be further from the truth. Rob and I had to go back to the worst days of any parent’s life. We had to talk about details we’d already blurred because we didn’t want to remember them. But as the book evolved, it became our way of healing. Of acceptance.
 
This week I’ve looked into the eyes of completely broken people. But I’ve also heard from those people who have found ways to move forward and through loss and find their own paths of joy. It’s been an incredibly touching and humbling experience and one that I will not forget.
 
I ran into an old boyfriend (story to follow one day MAYBE), received many gifts big and small, and heard stories of signs from our departed. But this one came from my own goddaughter and niece, Lauren’s Maid of Honour and dearest cousin. Meaghan received her copy of Mourning Has Broken via the mail the other day. (I haven’t been giving them away, as I just don’t have any copies yet!) She texted me to tell me and then asked, “Is it written on scented paper?”
 
My eyes grew wide as I wrote back, “No – why?”
 
She answered, “Wow! That’s wild that it isn’t supposed to be scented! The cover of the book right away reminded me of our apple trees that went into full blossom the day of Lauren’s passing. The perfume of flowers was obvious the moment it was unwrapped from the padded Amazon envelope.”
 
Okay – what?
 
First of all, if Meaghan had told me that her trees bloomed exactly on May 11th, I don’t remember. Secondly, there’s a story in the book about the day we smelled baking (we were in bed crying at the cottage and there were no windows open, no people around, no way at all that we could both, Rob and I, smell fresh baking). 
 
Do we believe that Lauren gave Meaghan a hug through the opening of that envelope? Absolutely. In fact, you’ll read about Meaghan introducing us to www.fedisbest.org, too. A sweet gift from one lovely daughter to another.
 
And on that sweet-scented note, I will leave you for today to ponder this first day of “Meteorological Spring” whilst we await the real thing. Our day is about to get exponentially warmer with a visit to our favourite little family just a couple dozen kilometres from the hotel we stayed in last night. There will be more rainbows to come, to be sure, but today the pot of gold at the end of this one has curly brown hair and calls us “the bananas.” (Wonder why?) 
 
Have a lovely weekend.
 

For most folks, today it’s “good riddance” to this month. But, honestly, I say good-bye to February with mixed emotions. I mean, sure, it included one of the best days and weeks of our lives, but hell – what is it with this weather? All we asked for, checked Farmers’ Almanac about, crossed our fingers and hoped was that the weather would somehow cooperate.
 
We got out to CTV in Agincourt for a visit with my dear friend Bev Thomson by 8:00 am. Bev is the most caring and sweet person and she was so engaging, having read the book, while remembering Lauren so fondly. 
 
That was the easiest part of our day. Then the snow kicked in bigtime. As we listened to 680 News for updates, hearing cancellation after cancellation, the knots in my stomach could have made for a macrame wall hanging. Whiteout conditions. Idiots taking unnecessary risks. No signs of plows. I miss Ontario – I miss you – but THIS? 
 
I’m not sure if my interview with Bev ran yesterday; the big stories were Michael Cohen, bad weather and, of course, the scummit going on in Vietnam. But it was a great chat with her, followed by a trip back downtown to the lakefront and the Corus studios for an interview with Global’s Susan Hay. I hope you saw it last evening. 
 
All went well and we made our way to First Canadian Place for a noon book signing at Chapters Indigo – I was so happy (as were organizers) with the number of folks who came by for a hug, a picture and an autographed book. So far so good, right?
 
Then came the big challenge: getting to Oshawa for the evening event. We were on the DVP forever (nearly two hours), weaving and fishtailing on HORRENDOUS “all season” tires that came with our rented Hertz KIA. The last car that was available when we landed at Pearson a week ago today, we were weaving all over our lane on the Don Valley. Very scary and not a snow plow in sight.
 
Last evening was my final GTA signing event for now and, despite the horrific weather that had hit us all yesterday, I was amazed to see a warm and wonderful (and given the snow, surprisingly large) turnout at the Chapters Indigo in Oshawa Centre.
 
By 9 pm, we’d wrapped it all up and it was off to the Sheraton Gateway to drop off the rental and grab a quick sleep before today’s 7am flight before a full day of interviews (and later book signing and interview with Ottawa Writers Festival). As we lay our heads down on our pillows at an airport hotel last night, I reflected upon something that happened yesterday at the book store at noon.
 
Besides having the honour and pleasure of connecting, hugging and talking with so many people, I had a private, special moment in the back room of the store before it all began. While I was signing books for people who had pre-ordered but couldn’t come to the event, a song came on the store PA. It was a tune I’ve never heard on the radio, a deep LP cut from the band Train called “Sing Together.”
 
This is the song from their CD California 37 to which Rob and I painstakingly put photos to play for my mother’s Momorial back in 2013. I hadn’t thought of Mom being with me on this journey, so immersed in my own motherhood have I been. But there was that song. And I knew she was just saying “hello” in her way.
 
I’ll be sharing a few more thoughts from this incredible week: so much has happened already and I haven’t had one minute to write in my personal, handwritten journal, never mind pick out a few moments that have stood out.
 
It’s been insane, but the feeling that has prevailed has been one, not of exhaustion (although there’s some of that), but of overwhelming gratitude for geting the chance to spread the message of this book. Of hope. Of “dancing with a limp.” Of one day smiling again. Through this book, Rob and I have found a purpose again. Life after life. And a feeling that it’s only the beginning. 
 
More from the road tomorrow. Now, who’s hungry? Here’s a link to my article this week for Walmart.
 

I don’t even know where to start.
 
As I write this, I have just finished two phone interviews (CKWS in Kingston and PostMedia with Kevin Connor) having changed clothes, re-upped my morning makeup and done three TV interviews all before 10 am.
 
I’m going to be picked up by noon, hit CTV for E Talk with Ben Mulroney, spend some time with the ladies of The Social (which aired at 1 pm yesterday) and then off to two events with Rogers including an Up Close & Personal with Maureen Holloway! That’s just today. My hope is for more than six hours’ sleep tonight.
 
It was a day I’ll never forget – it’s been a memorable week – and I hope to find time to pull out my handwritten journal to make notes that I can look back on when all of this slows down a bit. I’m prepared for the crash when Monday comes and we’re on our way back to Victoria (not literally, of course, but you know what I mean). 
 
Today, WEATHER PERMITTING ARGHHHHHHH!, we’ll do a morning visit to CTV in Agincourt for Bev Thomson, then back downtown to Indigo at noon (First Canadian Place) and on to Oshawa. Then we drive at 10 pm to the airport, drop off the rental and catch a few hours at the hotel there before a 7 am flight to Ottawa. 
 
Yep – I’m staying healthy. Tired, but healthy!!!!
 
I had to laugh yesterday. Two things jumped out at me. First, these Indigo sales rankings. I knew from visiting a store Monday that Mourning Has Broken would be placed on the Bestseller wall yesterday. As if that isn’t enough, I saw the Amazon online sales and…
 

 
Somewhere in there I sit next to Michelle Obama (in the second set of numbers). That’s enough for me. 
 
But what’s hilarious is that my friend Lisa sent me a notice she got, also from Amazon.
 

 
What do these books have in common? Well, silly, they’re all about my life! 
 
First, my book. Then A Girl Named Lovely, which is how I would describe Lauren. Finally, a book that describes me! LOL, I had to share that as I scurry around.
 
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a change of clothes to pack for my visit with Maureen (you’ll hear clips of it on the CHFI Morning Show today) and we’ll just keep going. My sweet and tough publicist Melissa just points us in the right direction and we get there on time and ready to shine.
 
Wow. I don’t know if I’ll ever get a chance to do this again, so I’m soaking it all in. Thanks for sharing the ride.
 
Oh, by the way, we’ve just learned that there are some tickets available for my appearance in conjunction with the Ottawa Writers’ Festival tomorrow evening. If you’re in the Ottawa area reading this (or within driving or train distance) you may be interested in this link. We’d LOVE to see you there and give you a big hug!