Help Us Give Erik Monsen the Memorial He Deserves
On June 8, 1983, my brother Erik Andrew Monsen was born in Redmond, Washington. He was the eldest of three brothers—Erik, Thor, and me, Leif.
A few weeks ago, we lost Erik unexpectedly to an accidental fentanyl overdose.
There really aren’t words big enough for what that loss has done to our family.
Erik wasn’t just my brother. He was my best friend.
He was one of the funniest, kindest, most generous people I’ve ever known. He was fiercely protective of his younger brothers and, when necessary, could be one hell of an opponent. He was athletic, handsome, outgoing, incredibly intelligent, and had a personality that could fill a room.
Erik had a mind that honestly bordered on genius. He never cared much about recognition, though. He just was who he was.
He was also an incredibly talented musician. Erik could play guitar in a way that made you stop and listen. I honestly believe that if he had devoted himself to music, he could have become a professional musician—or really, almost anything else he wanted to become. He had that much natural ability.
But Erik’s life wasn’t always easy.
When he was 17, he suffered a severe mental health crisis and was eventually diagnosed with a serious mental illness. From that point forward, he lived with struggles that most people who knew him probably never fully understood.
There were periods of depression, unimaginable internal turmoil, and episodes that could completely change the person we knew and loved. At times, medications and a carefully structured treatment plan helped keep those struggles under control. But even when he was fighting battles inside that nobody else could see, Erik could still walk into a room, make people laugh, and be the outgoing, hilarious person everyone loved.
That was Erik.
His struggles were part of his story, but they were never the whole story.
The whole story is that Erik was an incredible human being who was deeply loved.
My brothers and I grew up extremely close. We were fortunate enough to have a family that loved each other deeply—a kind of love that I know not everyone gets to experience.
I have more memories of Erik than I could ever possibly put into a fundraiser like this. There are stories that still make me laugh, stories that make me shake my head, and memories that right now are simply too painful for me to talk about.
I’m writing this through tears because I’m still trying to understand how someone who was such a huge part of my life can suddenly be gone.
Erik gave me so much throughout my life. He was there for me when I needed him, protected me, made me laugh, challenged me, and taught me things I will carry with me for the rest of my life.
I feel like I owe him everything.
Our family is hoping to give Erik a memorial that reflects the incredible person he was—not simply a rushed service because we have to make arrangements quickly.
My brother Thor, our mother Elizabeth, and I are considering holding Erik’s memorial around his birthday next year. Giving ourselves that time will allow us to grieve, remember him properly, and create something worthy of his life rather than being forced into a quick and inadequate service while everything is still so raw.
Our father, who passed away several years ago and was another truly incredible human being and the best dad we could have asked for, was never formally memorialized either. We are considering bringing the two memorials together.
In a strange and beautiful way, I think Erik and Dad would have loved that.
They both deserve to be remembered.
We are asking for help with Erik’s final arrangements and the memorial we hope to give him. Our goal is to raise as much as we can so that we aren’t forced to compromise on giving Erik the celebration of life he deserves.
Funds raised will go toward Erik’s final expenses, memorial costs, and the expenses involved in bringing our family together to properly honor his life. Any additional funds will help our family with related expenses associated with creating this memorial.
If you knew Erik, you know how much he could make you laugh. You know how fiercely he loved the people around him. You know that there was something special about him.
And if you didn’t know Erik personally, but you’ve read this far, thank you.
Any donation—large or small—means more to our family than I can put into words. If you aren’t able to donate, sharing this fundraiser with someone else would mean just as much to us.
We aren’t trying to raise money to remember how Erik died.
We’re raising money to remember how Erik lived.
He was my big brother.
He was Thor’s big brother.
He was our mother’s son.
He was our father’s son.
And to me, he was my best friend.
I love you, Erik.
I always will.
Until we meet again, big brother.
— Leif
