#85 Sand

When my oldest son was eighteen months old we went on a vacation with my parents and Eric to Destin, Florida. We were living in Oklahoma City at the time, and this was my son’s first trip to the beach. We stayed in a lovely hotel right on the beach and couldn’t wait to get out there. My son was fascinated with the wooden bridge over the dunes and the spray to clean the sand off of your feet, but was terrified of the sand. He would run full tilt down the boardwalk and then stop at the tops of the steps down to the beach. I could carry him down there, but he would cry if I tried to put him down in the sand. He was much happier on a beach chair or in the water. Eventually, by the end of the week, he had taken a few tentative steps in the sand, but only thanks to Eric.

Eric, who was a sand-loving child, had the patience to coax my son into the sand. He did it a little bit at a time until lo and behold he was walking in sand. We have a great picture of the two of them holding hands during that moment. He never got over his dislike of the sand that trip, but Uncle Eric made it bearable.

This weekend I watched my sons playing in the sand at the beach, burying their feet, dripping mud through their fingers and I thought, for the older one, this all started with Eric and that first trip to the beach.

I have mentioned before what a great uncle Eric was, but mostly dwelt on the things he sent them. I should never forget the time he spent with them and the things he taught them. Things like fighting with light sabers and walking in the sand. Things every little boy needs to know. Thank you, Eric.