Life is Eternal
Just a short time has passed since the untimely death of Orange County Sheriff’s Office (OCSO) Detective, Michael Erickson.
As the Caylee Anthony case evolved, so did my admiration for all the men and women of the OCSO, especially for the detectives working the case. These men and women were incredibly committed, worked so diligently to bring to justice the murderer of the beautiful child, Caylee Marie Anthony.
The OCSO Detectives on Caylee’s case were her voice. They spoke for her then; they still do.
One of these detectives was Michael Erickson.
I remember Detective Erickson’s voice and remember how kind yet professional he seemed. He was on the witness list for Caylee’s case, too.
Detective Erickson was a husband, father and grandfather. He looked so young; I was surprised to learn he was a grandfather.
I know the loss of a father, too.
Soon after my father passed away, I’d lost a dear friend – she was helping me get through my father’s loss when she died. The year was 2000, and it was an immensely painful time – I was a basket case for a while.
A friend sent me a lovely poem/essay that she thought would help ease my pain and anger (I was so angry for a long time afterward). This poem was like a light piercing through my darkness. It reminded me of the faith that I’d been questioning, and it did ease my mind. I read all kinds of inspirational books at the time, but what I am about to share with you, helped more than any book….
This is dedicated to the family of Detective Michael Erickson – especially to Krista.
Life is Eternal
I am standing upon the seashore
A ship at my side spreads
her white sails to the morning
breeze and starts for the blue
ocean. She is an object of
beauty and strength and I
stand and watch her until
at length she hangs
like a speck of white cloud
just where the sea and sky
come down to mingle with
each other. Then some one
at my side says: “There!
She’s gone.”
Gone where? Gone from
my sight – that is all. She
is just as large in mast
and hull and spar as she
was when she left my side,
and just as able to bear her
load of living freight to the
place of destination. Her
diminished size is in me,
not in her; and just at the
moment when some one at
my side says, “There! She’s
gone,” there are other eyes
watching her coming, and
other voices ready to take
up the glad shout, “There
she comes!”
by Henry Van Dyke
only dreamin' 
That’s lovely…