#72 I Dare You!

Yesterday we took my kids to the beach. It was my parents, my husband, the kids and me and the trip had a middling degree of success. My oldest son got splashed in the face once (with goggles on) and decided the water was not for him. In his defense, he is just tall enough to stand where all of the waves break and a little too big to be carried beyond. He concentrated the rest of his energies on digging the deepest hole he could. My little one had a bit more success in the water, but he insists that I hold him, and I’m not that tall, so it’s hard to keep his face out of the water. After one wave took both of us out, we decided we’d had enough of that. He also decided to dig a deep hole, but of course only wanted the shovel his big brother was using and you can figure out how it went from there.

Being there amid all the other beach goers reminded me of going to the shore with Eric. We grew up in New Jersey, so of course we didn’t go to the beach, it was the shore. We would go once or twice a summer and spend the day, usually with another family or two. All of those trips kind of blend together in my head and I know Eric spent a lot more time playing in the sand than I did, but I have one indelible memory of those times. I remember standing in the surf with Eric, staring at the incoming waves and yelling, “I dare you!” We dared the ocean to send us the biggest waves it could, to really try and take us out. The surf was pretty tame most of the time we went, so we could safely do this. Just thinking of that brings back the pure sun-kissed glee of those times. No worries, no cares, knowing you can handle anything that comes your way; daring it to come your way.

Eric lived most of his life like that; out there in the rough, daring life to throw him a challenge and handling it beautifully when it did. The end of Eric’s life is a perfect example. He was running a half-marathon, daring his body to last and make it to the end. He set himself a challenge of running a race every weekend, and for the most part stuck to it. On his refrigerator there was a split photograph of Eric before and after he started his latest fitness craze. He was never heavy, but there are definitely a few extra pounds in the before picture and lot more muscle definition in the after picture. He challenged himself to change his diet and level of fitness and he did it. For some there is a level of comfort in knowing that Eric’s last day involved something he loved to do. For me there is no level of comfort in knowing that Eric had a last day. Still, if his life had to end, at least we know he never shied from a challenge, never cowered at life. He lived actively and thoroughly and exuberantly. He lived the way everyone wishes they could.