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.
I have no idea why he had two IRAs, either! I know at one point a while ago (after my youngest was born) I was talking to Eric on the phone and talking about finishing up some paperwork-- I was in the process of adding Will as a co-beneficiary of my IRAs-- and Eric said that he had designated his for your kids. At that point, it was my impression that he didn't know they could be split between people so easily (i.e., half for each child). I do remember asking him if he was going to switch them to his own kids when he had kids of his own-- and his confident reply was that he hoped that he would have done well enough not to need to do that! Eric completely loved you, Mike, and your little ones. When we'd talk, he loved telling me about what your boys were up to. He delighted in having fun with them, and was eager for kids of his own. That's what kills me-- knowing that he would have been an awesome dad and was such a fun uncle and you guys would have had so much fun taking vacations and just BEING. I still feel, even though he packed more in his life than most people I know, that I wanted to hear more about his exploits and find out what crazy venture he was off to next, and how it would catapault him into yet another unexpected direction. I think that parenthood would have grounded him a little (harder to move around) and I was waiting to see how it would all come together. In my home, I still have memories of Eric-- holiday presents, jewelry, a pillow an English castle's gift shop, a too-big shirt from Outward Bound for my eldest son (Eric said he would grow into it)-- and more importantly, tons of pictures, old emails, handwritten letters. That kind of stuff I just haven't been able to look through much yet. It's crazy that one person can leave such a void. I think what I miss most is just talking to him-- being able to pick up the phone and continue a conversation that started years ago, and ended way too soon. He was a generous, fun, thoughtful, funny guy.
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