Remember The Gong Show? You know, that 1970’s game show where contestants performed until they either finished their act (rare) or were chased off the stage after one of the judges hit a huge gong? If you don’t remember, well, I think I just summed it up. That is what Eric and I would do after we went to bed.
Ever the performer I would sneak into Eric’s room while we were both supposedly sleeping and create different acts. He would stay in bed and “gong” me. If it sounds pretty dumb, it was. It was also a lot of fun and we would laugh our heads off. I’m pretty sure we also re-created other game shows, but that is the one that sticks in my mind.
We also used to sneak off and sleep in the bathtub. I’m not sure why we thought this was a really cool thing to do, but we did. I can remember being in there with my “Jeffrey from Toys R Us” sleeping bag. As the older sister I got the side of the tub where there was no faucet to maim your head.
Eric never really was much of a night person though. I’m still not sure he’s ever seen the end of either “The Wizard of Oz” or “The Sound of Music” which my parents would let us stay up late to watch.
He was, however, always up with the crack of dawn. My mother used to have to tell him he couldn’t have a bath until the sun was up. Maybe that was why we slept in there instead.
His birthday is New Year’s Day and I can remember many New Year’s Eves when he was long asleep by midnight and my friends and I would leave doughnuts out on the kitchen table for when he awoke.
I also remember being fiercely jealous that he was up and doing things that I was not a part of…..but I guess not jealous enough to interrupt my precious sleep. I just wanted him to sleep in too.
Even as an adult when we lived three time zones apart, I could call him on my way to work, 5:00 am his time, and he would be up and moving.
My children who are now 6 and 3 share a room. I know they play in there after we put them to bed. I don’t especially mind as long as they don’t kill each other and they actually go to bed at some point. My little one gets up REALLY early and crawls into my bed. It drives the older one nuts. It’s nice to see history repeating itself.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
#4
It would be ridiculous to think that I would ever, could ever forget Eric, but I find that I feel better when I have something from him with me. It doesn’t have to be anything particularly special; it just has to have a connection with him. I have a lot to choose from. Not only was Eric generous, I took a lot of things from his apartment. I probably took too many things, but I was worried I would leave something behind that I would later regret. I rationalized that I could always get rid of things later, but of course, I can’t. That’s why I now have a tent. And a Star Trek t-shirt. And a keychain.
Eric was never any good with dates. In the first post I talk about him celebrating my Aunt’s birthday 3 days late. I think the whole story was an elaborate (but clever!) ruse to cover up the fact that he forgot.
Once he called me in March panicked and breathless that we hadn’t sent my parents an anniversary gift. Their anniversary is May 29th.
One year for my birthday he called me three days early and pretended to be a recorded voice. This is what I heard.
“You are receiving this call because you have a birthday sometime in the next 5 days. Eric would like to wish you a happy birthday. This call will be repeated for the next 5 days.”
And it was.
When Eric moved to New Zealand after law school I wanted to give him a meaningful going away present. I decided it would get awfully expensive to have to call and remind him about every family birthday and anniversary. Instead I got him a keychain engraved with these important dates. He used it for years, until it broke.
When Eric was in the hospital, I visited his apartment in Las Vegas for the first time. In a little dish by his computer I found the broken keychain. I kept it in my pocket the entire time we were there. Once I got home, I brought it to a jeweler to make it into a pendant. Parting with it, even for that purpose, was really hard. I was barely able to keep the tears back until I left the store. I’m sure the lady thought I was crazy when I implored her, multiple times, not to lose the stainless steel keychain. Now I have it on a necklace. I don’t wear it everyday, but it is always on my nightstand next to my bed.
Everyday I wear very special rings on my left hand. They symbolize the love and commitment between me and my husband of almost 11 years. Now I wear a very special ring on my right hand as well. For my 30th birthday Eric bought me a beautiful silver ring from Tiffany’s. I used to wear it occasionally, now I wear it always.
Eric was never any good with dates. In the first post I talk about him celebrating my Aunt’s birthday 3 days late. I think the whole story was an elaborate (but clever!) ruse to cover up the fact that he forgot.
Once he called me in March panicked and breathless that we hadn’t sent my parents an anniversary gift. Their anniversary is May 29th.
One year for my birthday he called me three days early and pretended to be a recorded voice. This is what I heard.
“You are receiving this call because you have a birthday sometime in the next 5 days. Eric would like to wish you a happy birthday. This call will be repeated for the next 5 days.”
And it was.
When Eric moved to New Zealand after law school I wanted to give him a meaningful going away present. I decided it would get awfully expensive to have to call and remind him about every family birthday and anniversary. Instead I got him a keychain engraved with these important dates. He used it for years, until it broke.
When Eric was in the hospital, I visited his apartment in Las Vegas for the first time. In a little dish by his computer I found the broken keychain. I kept it in my pocket the entire time we were there. Once I got home, I brought it to a jeweler to make it into a pendant. Parting with it, even for that purpose, was really hard. I was barely able to keep the tears back until I left the store. I’m sure the lady thought I was crazy when I implored her, multiple times, not to lose the stainless steel keychain. Now I have it on a necklace. I don’t wear it everyday, but it is always on my nightstand next to my bed.
Everyday I wear very special rings on my left hand. They symbolize the love and commitment between me and my husband of almost 11 years. Now I wear a very special ring on my right hand as well. For my 30th birthday Eric bought me a beautiful silver ring from Tiffany’s. I used to wear it occasionally, now I wear it always.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
#3 Fettuccine alfredo
Chances are if you asked either Eric or me what our favorite home-cooked meal was; fettuccine alfredo would be your answer. My mother has her own recipe and it was one of the only meals she could make that we would all eat. Yes, I know this was mostly my fault, I’m the picky one, but I do love her fettuccine alfredo.
It should come as no surprise then, that once we moved out, we both wanted to learn the recipe to make this meal on our own. The recipe is not difficult. I confess I can’t remember whether I’m supposed to use the egg whites only or the yolks only so I’ve just started using whole eggs. It still tastes good. Sometimes when I make it, it comes out better than other times, but I’ve never actually not been able to make it.
The same cannot be said for Eric.
Eric’s problems with this meal started with the implements needed to prepare it. He thought he was really clever when he told us he’d gotten a big plastic spoon and a drill to make holes in it so the water would run out.
The residents of Eric’s apartment building in San Diego never knew how close they came to annihilation when he attempted to boil oil in which to cook the pasta.
Upon his next attempt, Eric successfully used water to cook the fettuccine, but complained that the completed meal was too bland. When my mother asked how much cheese he’d used, his answer was “Oh, cheese. I think I left that in the car…”
Years later when Eric met a girl he really wanted to impress, he decided to make her dinner. You guessed it, fettuccine alfredo. He called me from the supermarket and asked what he needed to buy. I gave him the ingredient list and then he asked me where in the supermarket he could find those items. I started to tell him to look for the fettuccine in the pasta aisle, but he interrupted me. He wanted aisle numbers.
I never heard how the fettuccine tasted, but he must have done something right, because he and Katie stayed together. Of course she also stayed with him through all of his Doritos inspired meals….but that’s a topic for another post.
Eric was a true renaissance man; a poet, a scuba diver, a mountain climber, an equestrian, a religious scholar, a photographer and more.
But a chef? Not so much.
It should come as no surprise then, that once we moved out, we both wanted to learn the recipe to make this meal on our own. The recipe is not difficult. I confess I can’t remember whether I’m supposed to use the egg whites only or the yolks only so I’ve just started using whole eggs. It still tastes good. Sometimes when I make it, it comes out better than other times, but I’ve never actually not been able to make it.
The same cannot be said for Eric.
Eric’s problems with this meal started with the implements needed to prepare it. He thought he was really clever when he told us he’d gotten a big plastic spoon and a drill to make holes in it so the water would run out.
The residents of Eric’s apartment building in San Diego never knew how close they came to annihilation when he attempted to boil oil in which to cook the pasta.
Upon his next attempt, Eric successfully used water to cook the fettuccine, but complained that the completed meal was too bland. When my mother asked how much cheese he’d used, his answer was “Oh, cheese. I think I left that in the car…”
Years later when Eric met a girl he really wanted to impress, he decided to make her dinner. You guessed it, fettuccine alfredo. He called me from the supermarket and asked what he needed to buy. I gave him the ingredient list and then he asked me where in the supermarket he could find those items. I started to tell him to look for the fettuccine in the pasta aisle, but he interrupted me. He wanted aisle numbers.
I never heard how the fettuccine tasted, but he must have done something right, because he and Katie stayed together. Of course she also stayed with him through all of his Doritos inspired meals….but that’s a topic for another post.
Eric was a true renaissance man; a poet, a scuba diver, a mountain climber, an equestrian, a religious scholar, a photographer and more.
But a chef? Not so much.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
#2
When I graduated from high school Eric bought me a gold anklet. He told my mother he wanted to buy me one with jewels, but she wisely advised him not to spend that much money. Eric always spent freely on those he loved, because we were worth it to him.
Once he became an Uncle, this accelerated. One birthday or Chanukah present per child was never enough. And small presents were not acceptable. This past year alone these are the gifts my sons got for their birthdays and Chanukah:
A huge pop-up Star Wars room that we never did figure out how to refold
1 light saber each
One pair of Star Wars footie pajamas each
One set of superhero swim masks, gloves and fins each
Lawn javelins (don’t ask but each one is at least 3 feet long)
A soccer goal that cheers when the ball goes in
Remember, I only have 2 sons--and I may be forgetting something.
Of course that list doesn’t include the “incidental” gifts that Eric would send all year round. When he and his girlfriend went to the new overlook at the Grand Canyon my kids got the poster and the booties they had to wear on the glass walk. When he went to the world’s largest candy store, my kids got jawbreakers so huge and hard we had to hammer them into bite size pieces.
Once Eric died we found out that my sons were the beneficiaries of his IRAs, of which he had two. Don’t ask me why he had two, remember I started this blog by saying Eric never did anything you would expect.
When I got home last night there were four envelopes in the mail. Each one was about an account from an IRA for one child. (2 IRAs + 2 children = 4 accounts)
I always complained to Eric that his gifts were too big, that I had nowhere in the house to keep all of this stuff.
I wish I could this time as well.
Instead, I’ll just say thank you.
Once he became an Uncle, this accelerated. One birthday or Chanukah present per child was never enough. And small presents were not acceptable. This past year alone these are the gifts my sons got for their birthdays and Chanukah:
A huge pop-up Star Wars room that we never did figure out how to refold
1 light saber each
One pair of Star Wars footie pajamas each
One set of superhero swim masks, gloves and fins each
Lawn javelins (don’t ask but each one is at least 3 feet long)
A soccer goal that cheers when the ball goes in
Remember, I only have 2 sons--and I may be forgetting something.
Of course that list doesn’t include the “incidental” gifts that Eric would send all year round. When he and his girlfriend went to the new overlook at the Grand Canyon my kids got the poster and the booties they had to wear on the glass walk. When he went to the world’s largest candy store, my kids got jawbreakers so huge and hard we had to hammer them into bite size pieces.
Once Eric died we found out that my sons were the beneficiaries of his IRAs, of which he had two. Don’t ask me why he had two, remember I started this blog by saying Eric never did anything you would expect.
When I got home last night there were four envelopes in the mail. Each one was about an account from an IRA for one child. (2 IRAs + 2 children = 4 accounts)
I always complained to Eric that his gifts were too big, that I had nowhere in the house to keep all of this stuff.
I wish I could this time as well.
Instead, I’ll just say thank you.
Monday, April 26, 2010
# 1
Eric is my brother. Eric was my brother. Both of those statements are true. Eric will forever be my annoying, irreverent, scary smart, hysterically funny, loving, generous, stubborn, little brother. Eric is also dead. I will have no more new memories of him unless I imagine them. I will have no more “Eric installments” for my friends who liked to laugh and marvel at the adventures and peculiarities of his life. His girlfriend Katie and I will never be the sisters I hoped we would one day be. I will never be an Aunt to his children and my children most likely won’t remember him. Still, I will remember him. Here is my forum to do so, at least for a little while.
I am sure you are wondering why 366 days. Why not 365 days? That would be the expected thing. If you knew Eric, you know he never did the expected thing. Therefore, in remembering him, neither will I. Eric once filled out the brackets for the NCAA pool my husband runs, calling half the games according to alphabetical order and the other half according to reverse alphabetical order. He once celebrated my Aunt’s birthday 3 days late because she was born on tax day and that year in Massachusetts, tax day was April 18th not April 15th due to a weekend and a holiday. He once tried to boil oil to make fettuccine alfredo.
In this space I will celebrate Eric, I will mourn Eric, and I will probably do a lot more that I will discover as I go.
Today, April 26, 2010, four months and 18 days after Eric died, I still don’t like to think of him in the past tense.
Eric is my brother.
I am sure you are wondering why 366 days. Why not 365 days? That would be the expected thing. If you knew Eric, you know he never did the expected thing. Therefore, in remembering him, neither will I. Eric once filled out the brackets for the NCAA pool my husband runs, calling half the games according to alphabetical order and the other half according to reverse alphabetical order. He once celebrated my Aunt’s birthday 3 days late because she was born on tax day and that year in Massachusetts, tax day was April 18th not April 15th due to a weekend and a holiday. He once tried to boil oil to make fettuccine alfredo.
In this space I will celebrate Eric, I will mourn Eric, and I will probably do a lot more that I will discover as I go.
Today, April 26, 2010, four months and 18 days after Eric died, I still don’t like to think of him in the past tense.
Eric is my brother.
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