The isles of the Mist
I feel the ancient lands of my people calling to me.
In the wind whispering through the leaves and when I walk by the sea.
The waves beckon me to come on a journey far away to the isles of the mist.
A land of rugged rocks, and seabird's calls.
With the mist that rises from the bogs across the crofts.
Stories I have heard of ancient times
Where the valley cries out with the blood of the slain
Hunted down and taken from the land they loved
Sent out to a strange new land by sailing ship
They named the villages that they built with familiar names
Of homes now far away, but still in their hearts 
And spirits they worked the land and raised their first borns
Passed down the stories their fathers had told them when young
As they look out at the sea even though they have never been
There is a longing within to see the land the stories were of
And walk the hills and shores spoken of with such passion and love
Someday these eyes shall see and feet shall walk the isles
While listening to the seabirds call as the mist rises across the crofts.
My son and I have always wanted to visit the Isles of the Mist. To see and walk the lands our people originated from. Eric researched ancient cultures and peoples his whole life. It was  one of his passions.

Views from Space

If these were the very last words I spoke to you
Would it be?
Life is what you make it?
Or that is yet to be seen..
Live each day as if it was your last.
Too Proud.too primal.
Too unsimplified some strain to think.
It should be so much easier.
If I only knew what to change.
Riding on this star.
That has so many names.
Another poem which will be read at his service

I walked over to the place today where my son began his spirit world journey. Thinking maybe I would find some memory of him. There on the wall beam was an yellowed old paper. I opened it gently because it was almost stuck together. There was a picture of Christ as a child. I remember when my son was small and I would go to bible studies. Instead of watching movies with the other children he would sit on the floor beside me. His prayers were full of depth and power yet compassionate and pure. Now I know that this child of mine has completed his journey. He is with the one he has served with all his heart and soul all the days of his life. God is Love.

Bright Light in the Sky
Is that you I see smiling back at me tonight? 
It's like your face is shining with the glory of God around you.
Such joy, no pain or sorrow.
A spirit set free from the broken body of pain.
I will miss you but I do understand.
That you couldn't stay.
I love you and always will, you will always be my only son.
Until we meet again keep singing songs and save me a place for me in your part of heaven.
Filled with conifers and deciduous Virgin Forests of every kind.
Water Falls and rapids that will blow my mind.
Sunrises and Sunsets so beautiful that all you can do is smile with your heart.

Every year I take a selfie on my birthday. This year I really have none I can post that wouldn't show a woman grieving for her only son. They say the eyes are a mirror to the soul. My soul is torn asunder and it will be a long time before I feel the laughter within like the warm summer rain on dry and weary plains. Blessings to all of you that have reached out to me during this time of sorrow and searching.

Missing You
In the stillness of the morning light I feel your presence near me.
Though holding you would be like holding onto the mist of the fading shadows light.
Sometimes I hear a heart beating like a cool, clean, mountain stream rushing against the rocks.
Like a song in the night, that comes from somewhere in your mind
Like a memory swept by too fast to hold.
Only a faint hearted smile within and then it dies, like a tear that traces down your face.
Until all I hear is the sound of leaves talking to the winds of change, yet nothing I can see.
If I reach out with my heart and spirit now can I grasp the wind?
Can I soar with you above the woodlands canopy and watch the fingers of light kiss the valley below?
Can I dance in the currents of the wind and feel the exhilaration of being swept away?
Wondering if I will be able to break away before I plummet back into the chasm of time?
I know that time is just a breath in the mist that blends and fades away.
There is nothing left to hold and my arms are empty now.
And yet still I feel your presence near.
I miss you.

I knew Eric back in high school and year immediately following. We already had an "Erik" in our circle so we called him "Magnuson". I remember he had many friends and he'd from time to time hang with us. He always had an easy way about him and was quick to smile. There was a time that he was (jokingly) puffing up his chest and giving me a "mean face" but only lasted a few seconds before busting out into a huge grin. I am saddened to hear of our loss. My condolences and prayers to the family and other friends.

You will be missed Eric. We had some great adventures together. Your friend forever Jeff

To My First Love,
We shared adventures of many,
To the musical frisbee chants,
To the campfires'dance,
From the Cascade Mountains,
To the Big Sky Country,
You will always have a place in my Heart
and be remembered for your Warrior Stance.
Love You Always,
Jam*

Prayers on the way

What I need beyond my everything!,,,
Screaming past my agonies!!
What I should have done
Was it heal u?
My super selfish intentions
2 feel at peace..
All alone..

On my own..
Loves angels fighting..
2 keep me alive..
not such a strange thing..
2 say
Heartfelt Poem written by my son before he left this world and the pain behind.

Shirak
Gentle as the breeze from the wings of a Butterfly
Antithetical people find they can't map or chart my mind
Abstract thinking it's so hard to define
For A person who only drinks one kind of wine

Another Poem from the Spirit of an Abstract Mind
He had such a big heart and love for the walking wounded.

7:07am
I want to share a memory today of my son's view on life at a very young age. When I was 26 my arm was crushed in a mill accident. It left my dominate right arm partially paralyzed. They said it would probably stay like that. My father was a veterinarian and as a child I was so very curious. I used to read his medical books, research papers and journals. My son asked me why my arm and hand didn't work so I explained synapses of nerons in a simple way and the rivers of nerves going from our brain thriugh our arms and legs. I showed him pictures of a neron and the nervous system of the human being. I got a frantic call from the school to come down the next day. Thinking he had gotten hurt playing I was panic stricken. When I arrived I was taken to the principles office. She looked grim. Look at what your son has painted she said. I walked over to the table and took it in and smiled. There was the silhouette of him cut out in butcher paper like all the other kids. But that was were the wondrous difference began. All the other children had shoes and clothes and painted on features that represented them. My son's head was full if beautiful brains of red and gold. There were rivers of gold, red and white shooting and spiraling throughout his arms and legs. His heart looked like some Celtic art. "OH, I said what a beautiful impression of synoptic energy." They looked at each other and rolled their eyes. His creation was absent at open house. All the other cookie cutter children were lined up like Gingerbread men.
My son at an early age had an Abstract Mind

Seattle Ministry
My son and I were part of a street ministry while we lived in Bellevue Washington. I cooked a big pot of stew or soup and made homemade bread. My son and I would load the van with donated clothing and personal hygiene supplies. The van would be driven to Seattle as an outreach to the homeless.
The minister would give a sermon while we walked through the gathering asking if anyone needed prayer or anything. There are a few moments in time that I would like to share.
Seattle can be miserable in the winter. It hardly ever snows but the rain is constant and merciless. It was a cold, windy day with steady blowing rain that wouldn't let up. We stayed in the Van that day to hand out a big box of shoes and my coats, hats, socks, and gloves. Everyone was standing in an orderly line waiting for the gifting to begin. Suddenly before our eyes the line parted like the red sea and two people came to the front. I couldn't believe my eyes the lady that stood patiently before me had no shoes on. It was February. I pushed both boxes forward and she choose a pair. I handed her a stocking cap, gloves and socks. The next man in line had no coat. His teeth were chattering and his lips tinged blue. He was very large and I knew the only jacket that could possibly fit him was mine. I took it off and handed it to him. He started to refuse. Take it I said I'll get another tomorrow. I know the one who supplies all our needs. My son as he got older started sharing Christ's love to the lost and lonely on the streets of Seattle.

The fish and the loaves
When the children were 8 and 10 we moved back to Bellevue because Jennifer had medical needs. I was working at a convent as a cook two days a week and caregiver three days a week. The wages were merger but we got by on a wing and a prayer. Christmas was drawing nigh and I had no money to spare. I had two dollars and was trying to decide if I should buy a new pair of hose or buy milk and bread hoping no one would notice the run. The bell ringer's were out and I smiled at one and said Blessings to you. He replied with a smile and said Stay warm and eat well. I stopped in my tracks as the scriptures I held in my heart played back. Then walked to the pot and put my last two dollars in. May it be like the fish and the loaves of bread in Matthew. 
At church I put a sweater across my knees so no one could see the run. Well I got called to the front of my Sunday School class and they gave me a card and said some sweet things that made me blush. When we got home I looked to find $200.00. Oh what a wondrous God we serve. On Christmas Eve we heard a knock on the door and it was someone from Toys for Tots with so many toys it amazed me. Then the door rang again and there was someone with more toys. After they left Eric says we need to share with those little boys down the hall. They hardly have anything at all. Eric could tell what some of them were by their shape. He took a Basketball, Football, baseball and mitt and set them aside. The kids were stealthy and left the toys in front of the door, rang the doorbell and ran.
You should have heard the children's delight. Later, the mother came to me in tears. Someone had seen my children leave the presents. This beautiful lady with a broken spirit came to be my friend. We started fellow shipping and praying together and before we knew it others joined in. Whenever a new single parent mom came to church we invited her to fellowship. Sharing Joy and Sorrows not alone anymore.

Blessings like a river
When we lived in Bellevue there were many people who were wealthy. Their children had all the latest styles of clothes. Many acquired every toy that came out in a specific collection and when they became bored with them they were thrown away. Someone came to me with two huge bags of every GI Joe known to man. I took them home for my son who was eight. There were Trucks and Jeeps and Tanks and well everything a GI Joe would need. He looked at them then looked at me. I don't play with dolls mom you know that. Find a little boy who would want them. I stuck them in the closet and basically forgot them. Back then I had no car so I went everywhere by bus. One afternoon I was headed home and ended up across from a lady with two young boys. They were playing with one GI Joe doll. We started talking and come to find out it was their birthday. One twin had been in an accident and had a terrible scar on his head. He was developmentally delayed. His brother was his protector and watched over him. Their mom had only been able to afford one doll so they shared it. I could see light and love in those eyes. I said You see that Restaurant over there on the corner? I am going to leave two big white bags for you. Just tell them Cheri sent you. The next time I visited my friend who worked in the Restaurant she said the lady cried when she saw all the toys. She said there were so many her boys were going to share with others. Blessings flowing like a river. 

Another Memory

Locks 
Well your at the doorways...
Then you find there's a pile of keys...
Billions of scenarios...
Avalanching thru your brain...
I'm like a man in a room...
With thousands of truths... but 
Which one is his?

Another Poem from An Abstract Mind.

9:19pm
The bear cub and the big fish
When my children were small we lived in a beautiful place called the Methow valley. It was remote and very peaceful a place of healing for me. Our driveway was over a quarter mile long and the nearest neighbor was over two miles away. The land we butted up to was a game range on one side and a huge ranch on the other. 
The farm house was very old and in need of many repairs. There was a huge front porch. All the windows faced the pond. The barn was ancient but sound with an enormous loft for hay. We raised sheep and milk goats. Several times a week we would go fishing and catch our dinner. I loved fishing the high mountain lakes but this time we were fishing the river. It was a disappointing day. No one was catching fish and the rumor was there were nets staggered across the river. Nothing seemed to be getting through. 
My son was frustrated and bored. Suddenly the silver flash of a fish struggling in the current got his attention. He tossed his pole on the bank and dived into the water. The fish had a broken gill from the net but was still full of fight. Eric grabbed and jumped and grasp again amide encouraging shouts from people on the shore. Come on little bear cub you can do it! Finally after he had his arms firmly wrapped around the fish he waded back to shore. Everyone was clapping. One man a native said: He is a fierce little bear cub. Caught his own fish with no help from mother bear. He brought the fish to camp and smiled so big. The one fish was big enough to feed all three of us. A hunter provider at 7 years old.

Poem by an anonymous Shoshone 

The ways of the Heart

Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, certain that a faithful hand will take and sift,them, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away.

Taken from Native American Wisdom
This is taken from one of my son't favorite books. He did a lot of research on Native Americans and had a deep love of their culture.

Mind's Eye
White so bright and clean new snow glistening against the clear blue sky.
Rosy colored clouds and the moon.
Beauty seen never seems the same on film so I take pictures in my mind.
Memories to bring forth when I am too old to hike about and seek the mysteries of life.
Sweet memories that play back in my heart and mind of journey's past
Moments in time that took my breathe away like sitting on an old burned stump with my son when he was 8 years old,
While watching the fingers of light touch the valley below.
To see the light play on the waters and make it shimmer with a life of its own.
Beauty so pure and sweet tears came to my eyes and my heart was so full it ached.
So blessed am I to have a spirit that can be still and wait and watch and have a son that can do the same.
Behold the beauty all around me Praise God!

Valleys of Music
Who will be my neighbors in heaven?..
Free concerts that's what we all need...
Perfectly spaced - hear and there..
Dimensions of the untolds & yet 2b seens. .
All along waiting 4 us...
A lone compromise at trails head...
When just about 2...
Walk down a broken glass path..
Bare feet...full of fearlessness. ..
All the while realizing sometimes..
Even heart spoken words often..
Pushed aside
Another poem by an Abstract Mind


Cheri Magnuson updated her status.
6:36am
Eric did leave some of his writings for me. He burned most of them. I am going to post one a day until Easter. 

Valley's of music

Who will be my neighbors in heaven?,,
Free concerts that's what we all need...
Perfectly spaced - here and there..
Dimensions of the untold & yet 2 b seen...
All along waiting for us..
A lone compromise at trails head..
When gazing apon another soul...
Whose Just about 2..
Walk down a broken glass path..
Bare feet,,,full of fearlessness....
All the while realizing sometimes..
Even heart spoken words are often..
Pushed aside

12:48pm
Angus helped me grieve today. I started crying almost like a wailing. Angus came over and leaned into me and began to howl. My wailing turned to an eerie howl so wild and free I felt it touch the heavens. Run free my son through the Valley and Trees of Heaven that God has created for people like us. I can almost see the smiling face and the presence of two white dogs. One that looks like a wolf and a little dog with a smile and a curled tail.

5:38am
Seattle Ministry
My son and I were part of a street ministry while we lived in Bellevue Washington. I cooked a big pot of stew or soup and made homemade bread. My son and I would load the van with donated clothing and personal hygiene supplies. The van would be driven to Seattle as an outreach to the homeless.
The minister would give a sermon while we walked through the gathering asking if anyone needed prayer or anything. There are a few moments in time that I would like to share.
Seattle can be miserable in the winter. It hardly ever snows but the rain is constant and merciless. It was a cold, windy day with steady blowing rain that wouldn't let up. We stayed in the Van that day to hand out a big box of shoes and my coats, hats, socks, and gloves. Everyone was standing in an orderly line waiting for the gifting to begin. Suddenly before our eyes the line parted like the red sea and two people came to the front. I couldn't believe my eyes the lady that stood patiently before me had no shoes on. It was February. I pushed both boxes forward and she choose a pair. I handed her a stocking cap, gloves and socks. The next man in line had no coat. His teeth were chattering and his lips tinged blue. He was very large and I knew the only jacket that could possibly fit him was mine. I took it off and handed it to him. He started to refuse. Take it I said I'll get another tomorrow. I know the one who supplies all our needs.

Come unto Him and stand by my side
I will be your heavenly guide
Through the mountains, valleys, rivers and streams
In this heaven, I now reside
Through God's grace, I am free of pain and will wait patiently to show you the way
To the waterfalls and rapids and sweet smelling lakes
To the epic rock climbs and lazy creeks
I will scout out this part of heaven for my family and friends
I love you, live well, till we meet again.

I wrote these poems for my uncle. He meant so much to me and I never knew in a blink of an eye, he could be ripped away so easily. All I really know is that he was a good man and because of that he is in heaven. Uncle, you were there for me when I needed a friend. When I needed a father figure. When I couldn't sleep. When I needed adventures in my life. Thank you for teaching my how to throw a football and kick a soccer ball and teaching me life lessons. Thank you for all the memories you gave me. I wouldn't have any other person I could grow up with. I love you and promise that I will make you proud. This is not goodbye. I will see you one day. So, I guess this is

A Poem for Uncle Eric
Written by Christine E. Waters

You left so fast, in the blink of an eye
Maybe that's why I feel as though I should say goodbye
You are the light when it's dark
You are the feeling in my heart
A mark of happiness and memories to last
Therefore I will not live in the past
Goodbye my love, I set you free
Free to the Angels and Free to the Trees
Free to roam and free to flee
Free to love and your freedom will last
Your freedom to never live in the past
Goodbye my love, I set you free
Even though it's far away from me

A Poem for Uncle Eric
Written by Christine E. Waters

Mend to the heart, mend to the mind
Ever since you left, I feel as though I have been blind
But, God sees what I don't 
We merely see the past
God knows the world will not last
So don't be in sorrow, don't be in fear
Who knows when the end is near
When it does come, I won't be afraid
Because God has a world that he has made
I cannot wait to be up in the clouds
Where my head will be cleared and not be so loud

A Poem for Uncle Eric
Written by Christine E. Waters

You are the feeling in my heart
I never dreamed we'd be apart
You were so young to go to heaven
But, I guess God needed you
To save you from a world of pain
He gave you a chance; with him you remain
And I will not grieve that we are apart
For I know you are now an Angel at Heart

A Poem for Uncle Eric
Written by Christine E. Waters

The memories of you
Always bring a smile
Even though you may be gone for awhile
Run free my love, run free
I will not be down on my knee
Let the Lord take you in
So maybe one day, I will see you again

A Poem for Uncle Eric 
Written by Christine E. Waters

Do not grieve, do not cry
Just because he said goodbye
For he is in the trees, he is in the wind
His new journey starts to begin
He is safe and sound with the Lord
So get up off that floor
For he is in the trees, he is in the wind
Your new journey needs to begin

A Poem for Uncle Eric

Written by Christine E. Waters

Oh God, please God
Shine your light
For my Uncle is out of sight
So I would hope you let him in
And let his new journey begin
Because he is a good man
Who had very good plans
His name you know
A flower in plain sight
Let him into the light
So that I will see him again
When my time comes to an end

Rest in peace Eric.  I  will keep you and your family in my prayers.  From one who knows the lost of a love one.  L.B. Calif

My deepest sympathy to Jenn, and mom. My heart is filled with the pain of your loss. Eric was a great guy. And I know he is in Heaven looking down smiling at his beautiful family awaiting the day when you join him in heaven. I love you guys. If there is ever anything I can do you be sure and let me know.

My condolences to the family of Eric Magnuson.  The challenge to live with pain and suffering is something that most of us do not have to face daily.  May there be closure and peace to all who survive him but memories be strong in knowing that he is in a better place.
Lee Bates, Viola, ID

I didn't know you Eric, but I feel I knew your spirit through your mom and family.  I pray that your spirit finds wonderous healing and that you are surrounded by the most beautiful of angels and loved ones who crossed over before you on the other side.   - Tina Mosholder Chinook

I  did not know  Eric only through his mother.  my Prayer are with the family. and you Cheri. God bless you on your lost.

Eric was born at Overlake Hospital in Bellevue, Washington on June 5th, 1972. Son to Cheryl C. Magnuson and Jon R. Magnuson. Brother and friend of Jennifer Moran, Uncle to Fletcher R. Magnuson, Christine E. Waters, and Cheyenne N. Waters. Poet and incredible singer, lover of the woods, hiking, rock climbing, snowboarding, heart of a lion and loved fiercely. Eric, my brother, I love you and I miss you with an intensity that is beyond words or understanding.

OBITUARY

Eric Jon Magnuson

June 5, 1972 – March 2, 2015

Birmingham Funeral Home

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