#249 Birthday jitters

So here I am in Savannah celebrating the New Year with my parents and finding it increasingly hard to breath. Is it the increased humidity, the baby weighing down my lungs, or the fact that Eric’s birthday is, would be, should be tomorrow? I don’t even know how to phrase it.




It’s hard to believe on this beautiful, sunny, warm day that terrible, unexplained things can happen in this world, and yet they do and have.



Tomorrow Eric would have been 34 and a young vigorous man with a beautiful new wife and a promising life ahead of him. Instead we mourn and remember and hopefully celebrate the life that he did get to have.



We bought a bottle of champagne to toast him with and I’m lobbying for popcorn for dinner in his memory.



It’s not enough, but nothing will ever be enough when it comes to this.

#248 You're older in Vietnam

I went to get my nails done today and got a little more than I bargained for. I was there before they opened (they supposedly open at 9:30 and that’s when I arrived, but apparently it’s meant to be flexible) and the first person who got there was the owner. Actually he and his wife own it together, but the husband got there first. He got my manicure started and we chatted as we watched the other women come into work.




He, his wife and the other nail technicians there are all Vietnamese. He showed me a book he had gotten that tells you what’s in store for you in the new year based on the month and year of your birth. The first thing you need to know is that you are older in Vietnam than you are here. This is very depressing. Apparently they account for the time you spend in the womb, which kind of makes sense, but they must not be great mathematicians because they add 2 years and I can guarantee you I have not, nor will I ever carry a baby for a whole 2 years.



So after we figured out which section of the book to look in for me, he said I would be having some health issues in the late winter, early spring. I’m putting C-section and recovery in there, so I’m not (too) worried. He also said my financial status would be good, so that’s a relief. I’m not to invest in business with a friend in the fall and I’m to be careful driving in the fall as well.



It turns out he and my husband were born in the same month of the same year so he looked at that one too. Finances aren’t supposed to be great this winter (sorry honey), but there is great joy in the family. Can you say new baby?



Then he said that for him years 31-33 were supposed to be bad, filled with health problems or possibly even death. Guess who that made me think of? And guess who shares a birthday with Eric? Wrong year but right date. Maybe I’ll start paying a little attention to my Vietnamese fortune.

#247 Air Travel

I spent the whole day on airplanes or in airports today. I’m not complaining though, all of my flights were on time, I had time to eat during a layover and my luggage all made it. I really feel for all of the people who were stranded because of the blizzard in the northeast and I’m grateful that I wasn’t.




Airports are funny places. It’s kind of like real life is suspended while you are there, although a little less so now that we’re all so connected with our smart phones. I can remember travelling with Eric and my parents and everything was an adventure. From the skycap to the soda we were allowed to have on the plane (the whole can!) to the plastic wings and the glimpse inside the cockpit we would get on the way out. We even enjoyed exploring the terminal. Everything was an adventure with Eric.



I remember one time when he was in high school we were going on a family vacation and had just gone through passport control when this cute blond girl called his name. We stopped and chatted and then she moved on with her family and we went to our gate. We asked Eric who she was and he was totally clueless. He thought maybe she was in his math class. Typical Eric, totally oblivious.



Last Spring Katie went on a vacation to London during her spring break and Eric wanted to pick her up at the airport. He drove out there and then wasn’t sure where to go. So he called my parents in Savannah, GA from the Las Vegas airport to find out if there was an international terminal and if so where it might be. Again, typical Eric, call someone else so they can get online instead of parking and asking when you are already at the airport. I’m sure it made sense to him at the time. And I’m pretty sure he found Katie.



So although I didn’t do much with my day besides come home, at least the trip triggered some fond memories.

#246 Eric on my mind

Eric has been much on mind these last few days and I’m not sure why. I’ve been in Iowa which is not a place I have any memories of him being. I don’t think we were ever here at the same time.




Maybe it’s because I’m on vacation and therefore have more free time to think about him. Of course I have more time to think about everything…the children who are already here, the one who is coming, the financial ramifications of an unpaid maternity leave…so much for a stress free vacation.



Maybe it’s because the anniversary just passed and I still can’t believe I’ve lived a whole year without him.



Maybe it’s because his birthday is in a few days and that is also the anniversary of the day we scattered his ashes in my parents’ backyard.



Whatever it is, Eric is on my mind and I’m not in a very good place. Hopefully the second part will change soon.

#245 Pillow Pets

We were at the mall today to return all the clothes that didn’t fit and hopefully find some that do. I have to say, shopping while pregnant is probably my favorite way to shop, my figure is only temporary and I don’t really care what size I wear. My husband, brother-in-law and father-in-law had the kids at the play area while my mother-in-law and I did the returning and shopping. As we were about ready to go and reunited my boys asked if they could get Pillow Pets and very uncharacteristically I actually considered it and said yes and we came home with a lady bug and a moose and two really happy boys.




It’s not that I don’t want my boys to be happy or that I have anything against Pillow Pets, its just that they just had an amazing Christmas and got more new stuff than they have had time to play with yet…although they have made a VERY good effort. They don’t need anything and it’s not like me to give in to their begging and make an impulse buy like that.



As I was thinking about it in the car on the way home I decided that, in my mind at least, those could be their gifts from Eric. They’re not loud or huge, but the boys do love them. They’re probably not what Eric would have chosen, but if he could see the look on their faces when they play with them, he’d be ok with it. Too bad he can’t.

#244 Cold Weather and Hot Chocolate

It’s been a lazy day today. The boys have gone sledding but other than that we’ve been watching movies and football and drinking lots of hot chocolate. I know Eric would approve of the movies and the hot chocolate, he wasn’t into football though.




I can remember going sledding with Eric as a child. There was a sledding hill in our town that, at least in my memory, seems incredibly steep. We had an old fashioned sled on runners and it never seemed to steer the way we wanted it to. I mostly just remember how cold we would get and how nice it was to get home and inside and warm up with hot chocolate.



More than sledding, I remember going cross-country skiing on a local public golf course. It seems like we did this on every snow day, and it was always fun although for me the best part was still coming home, getting warm and having the hot chocolate.



I’ve already mentioned how much Eric loved hot chocolate and that he didn’t need to be cold to drink it, but for me, this is the perfect weather for it. I wish he were here to drink some with me.

#243 Christmas

Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate and happy Saturday to those of you who don’t. Eric would be happy to know that my husband’s family has filled his role of providing large and noisy toys for my kids. Both of them made out like bandits with gifts including (but not limited to) pop guns, a music making balance board, a game that squirts water if you touch the wrong place and an arcade basketball hoop that looks like it might take up my whole back yard.




I am again having trouble maintaining a celebratory mood. Certainly not because of a lack of gifts, I got two pairs of earrings one with a matching necklace, a beautiful blown glass vase and some clothes, just to name a few. It’s just that I keep thinking about how Eric might have chosen to celebrate this day.



If his plans had not been interrupted he and Katie would be married and celebrating Christmas together. I’m sure it would be a deeply significant day for both of them. I know they would have honored the religious traditions of the day and also celebrated their relationship with gifts to each other. Last year Eric designed a dress for her, what would he have come up with this year? He surely would have found a way to top that.



I know I’m not the only one missing him today, and I know we’ll all get through it, I just wish we didn’t have to.

#242 The mind of a 4 year old

My husband and I got up at the incredibly early time of 3:30 this morning and made it to Des Moines before lunchtime so now we are back together with our kids and ready for our Iowa Christmas.




I just took my 4 year old up for a nap and he asked me if I missed him when I was still at home. I said of course I did. Then he asked me if I wanted him to die. I made him repeat himself because I wasn’t sure what he had said, but sure enough that’s what he asked me. I said of course not, I didn’t want him to die, I wanted him to live and grow and be happy and healthy. Then he asked me when Uncle Eric died and told me that he missed Uncle Eric. Then he turned on the CD of Christmas Carols and happily jumped into bed.



4 year olds are unpredictable. Sometimes they say the most random things. For example, we took the boys to see the musical “Annie” in October and just 2 weeks ago he asked me why she sang that she loved tomorrow. I know things are just swirling around in his head and he’s trying to make sense of everything. Sometimes he can verbalize what he’s thinking about and sometimes he can’t and sometimes he doesn’t want to.



I don’t know where his thoughts about death came from this afternoon. I don’t even know if he truly understands death, though I doubt it. I am glad, though, that he still thinks about Uncle Eric.

#241 Procrastination

Procrastination.




Maybe later I’ll have a better idea.



Maybe if I check facebook something will come to me.



Maybe I should check it again.



I’ll go read the New York Times, maybe something there will resonate.



Time to go clean out the boys’ closet….um well….time to go get my nails done, yeah that sounds better.



Ok, now I’ll try to write something.



The dryer’s beeping; better go put the clothes away.



I think I need to check facebook again.



4:00 and still no blog.



Procrastination.

#240 Too Many Toys

If you read yesterday’s blog post then you have two of the three relevant facts you need for today’s. One, my kids are in Iowa with their grandparents and my husband and I are still at home. Two, we celebrate Chanukah and Christmas and so together with birthdays and random other occasions we have more toys than most preschools. The third fact you need to know for today is that I am not in the office. Technically I’m working, I’m on call for the practice and the hospital, but I don’t have office hours, so I’m at home.




So, obviously, the first thing I did this morning was sleep in. And that was glorious. I can’t remember the last time I slept until 9:00 with no interruptions by little people.



Then I decided this would be the perfect day to weed through the boys’ toys in anticipation of all the new ones we’ll be bringing home next week. I hate this job in general and that’s probably why there are so many toys, books, clothes, etc that still need to be gone through.



I got a lot done, but faced a dilemma I haven’t had in the past. What do I do with the toys Eric gave them? Some of them, like the light sabers, are clearly still treasured items and I wouldn’t have planned to donate them anyway. But what about the stack of cardboard bricks the boys absolutely never play with and haven’t in years? How about the alien rocket ship set that never even got fully put together to begin with? Ugh. How can I get rid of stuff from him when the boys will never get anything else from him? I was not anticipating this to be an emotional task, but it was.



In the end, I compromised. The alien rocket ship thing that had large parts scattered throughout multiple toy bins had to go. It was taking up too much storage space and wasn’t even functional. The bricks, however, stayed. They are stacked neatly out of the way against the wall and who knows, maybe the boys will develop an interest in building, or maybe someday the new little one will.



Those bricks were also Eric’s favorite toys as a child (second possibly only to Lego’s) so the emotional connection for me was much greater with those than with the alien thing. I’ll probably still have those when the boys are all out of the house. Oh well, maybe someday they’ll have kids who want them.

#239 Happy Chrismukah

My mother-in-law flew in from Iowa yesterday and this afternoon is going to fly back with my boys. My husband and I will join them there on Friday for our annual Christmas celebration. For those of you who are confused, I was raised Jewish, my kids are being raised Jewish, but my husband is Lutheran. So every year we get to go and enjoy the tree, the stockings, the baked goods (oh the baked goods!) the gifts and the snow of an Iowa Christmas. It is truly wonderful.




I remember as children Eric and I were always jealous of our friends who had Christmas trees and Christmas presents. It always seemed like they got a lot more presents than we did, but I think really they just got more on one day, whereas ours were spread out. Still I was always jealous of the carols and the decorations everywhere you looked. I’m still very conscious that this is not my tradition, but I am happy that I get to share it with my husband and his family.



I sometimes worry about my kids growing up confused about where they fit in since we do honor both traditions (they get Easter stuff too), but that is why we started the oldest in religious school at kindergarten and the youngest goes to a Jewish preschool. Hopefully, in time, they’ll be able to reconcile the differences and have a strong Jewish identity.



Somehow, being raised in the same house by the same parents, I developed a Jewish identity (culturally if not terribly observant), but Eric did not. He was always questioning and looking and finally found that Christianity was the answer for him. He probably wouldn’t have approved of celebrating both holidays, although he never said anything. I think he needed something with rules and structure that made sense to him. Trying to bridge the divide would be too messy, too uncertain.



I’m glad he found something that he was happy with, but I have found that life is messy. There are no clear cut answers, so I’m doing the best with what I have. And if that means celebrating both Chanukah and Christmas, so be it.

#238 Wonderful Things

Wonderful things that have happened or I have seen so far this morning.




My children’s joy at finding Fred, our elf on the shelf.



My husband, unasked, scraping the ice off of my windshield.



My four year old singing, mostly on pitch, in the car.



My four year old and his friend running, laughing, into school.



A family of deer standing atop a hill along my morning commute.



A school bus driver in a red coat and Santa hat.



My morning Starbucks.



I have to see and record these things since Eric can’t. There are so many things that he is missing, but I am going to make sure I don’t miss them. I will file them away for him. I will observe for both of us.

#237 Hospital Music

Hospitals are strange places. There are so many different people, each with different reasons for being there. Lives begin and end there. Traumatic things happen there. Mundane things happen there. To the people who work there, it’s just another building. To those who are admitted it can be a safe place, a scary place or both at the same time. To those who are visiting it can be intimidating and confusing.




I have been in many hospitals, in different roles. I work in them as a physician, I have been a patient during the births of my sons, and I have visited loved ones there. I have been at times, bored, scared, annoyed, perplexed and angered by hospitals. Each one has its own culture and its own way of doing things that varies slightly even from one just across the street.



I am on call this weekend and have, so far, been to the hospital three times to do consults on inpatients. Three times today I have heard Brahms lullaby playing over the hospital-wide intercom. This plays every time a baby is born there. I used to think it was a wonderful custom, now I’m not so sure. None of the floors I was on was anywhere near the maternity ward, and two of the patients I saw were battling illnesses that will likely kill them. Is it a comfort or a painful reminder of mortality to have to listen to the lullaby day and night anytime a baby is born?



I think if the hospital where Eric was had done this I would have hated it. I wouldn’t have wanted to think about a family joyous in the face of new life while watching my normally vibrant brother lie way too still. Maybe I’m a bitter person, but I think it is better to let us all mind our own business. Leave me alone in my grief and I won’t disturb your happiness. It’s not that I wouldn’t theoretically be happy for that family, just that I don’t need it rubbed in my face. And I think that’s how it would have felt.



I don’t think the parents of the newborns would feel slighted if the entire hospital wasn’t alerted to the presence of a new life. In fact, I doubt they even notice it, they’re probably too overcome with their own joy and amazement—and they should be. Certainly the newborns aren’t taking notice.



Nobody would even think to play music with every death. I think we should do away with the music for birth as well.

#236 Role Reversal

My 7 year old is trying to protect me and it’s breaking my heart.




Last night at dinner he mentioned that he had gotten upset about Uncle Eric at school. He prefaced the whole conversation by asking me if I remembered Uncle Eric and that just tore me up inside. I’m pretty sure I didn’t show it on my face though.



A friend of his had just lost a grandparent and was talking about it and that reminded him of Eric. He told me that initially he got sad, but then he remembered playing with Eric and sticking his feet in Eric’s face and that made him laugh. He told me he started writing a story about playing with Eric and he was already on the third page and had so much more to write about. I told him I was glad that he was remembering Eric and that although it is ok to be sad, and we are always going to be sad, I was really happy that he could remember the good times he had with Eric. I told him I can’t wait to read his story, and I can’t.



Later that night I was telling all of this to my husband and it turns out there is more to the story. It turns out my son was REALLY upset at school. So much so that it warranted a call home. Only my son told his teacher not to call me because he didn’t want to upset me. So they called my husband. My husband talked him through it and helped him get to a place where he found his happy memories. Then he wasn’t sure if he should tell me or not so he didn’t.



I love that my 7 year old son is so sweet and sensitive and didn’t want to upset me. I hate that he felt he couldn’t come to me with his pain. I hate that there is something in this world from which he thinks he needs to protect me. He is too young for that.



I haven’t had a chance to talk to him about it yet, but I will. I want him to know that he can talk to me about anything at anytime and he doesn’t have to worry about how it will make me feel. It’s ok to be sad; it’s unavoidable. But it is so good to remember, and it makes me feel good that he remembers.



My little boy is growing up and it’s breaking my heart.

#235 Sleep...or the lack thereof...

As I get closer and closer to having this baby (about 10 weeks to go) I am already dreading the loss of sleep to come. I don’t do well on less than average sleep and I absolutely hate being woken up in the middle of the night. (yeah, I don’t do well with call either…). I have been lucky that both of my children slept through the night relatively early and have pretty much continued to do so. I have friends who are not nearly so lucky.




After a 3:00 am wake up call from my 4 yr old last night (wet pajamas) I had trouble falling back to sleep and starting wondering if this new child will sleep as well as the ones I already have. Did I totally screw up my sleep schedule forever or will it be a temporary blip?



It made me remember my mother’s stories about Eric as a baby. Most of his baby stories involve him crying. In his defense he had a lot of ear infections and they are painful, but he does not sound like an easy baby to care for.



I am a big fan of letting my kids cry it out. For both of them when we got the ok from the pediatrician to let them skip that middle of the night feeding, it took 3 nights of crying it out for them to get it. The first night is horrible, the second night is a little better and the third night is pretty normal. The same 3 night schedule worked really well when it was time for my little one to stop sleeping with a pacifier. (the older one never took one to begin with)



This did not work with Eric. My mother talks about the time my father went on a business trip so she decided to let Eric cry it out and see if she could get him sleeping through the night. Four hours later he was still going strong and she just couldn’t take it anymore.



She and my dad used to take turns getting out of bed when he would cry. They kept track of how many turns they took and the record was nine. Each.



Oh boy. Here’s hoping this little man takes after his brothers and not his uncle in this oh so important way.

#234 Brotherly love

My book club just read “Ghosty Men” by Franz Lidz, the true story of the Collyer brothers, notorious New York hoarders. Homer and Langley Collyer lived in a Harlem mansion, purchased when that was a fashionable area of the city, and became hoarding hermits whom their neighbors called The Ghosty Men. Homer lost his eyesight and was “paralyzed with rheumatism” and stopped leaving the house altogether. Langley would only leave the house late at night and would walk all over the city picking up trash and left over food. Despite having plenty of money, he begged for left over bread and meat in stores all over the city. Their house was full of literally tons of junk (over 100 tons removed after their deaths) including multiple pianos, cars, chandeliers and stacks and stacks of newspapers. (so Homer could catch up on the news when his eyesight returned)




Langley took care of his brother, including supplying him with the 100 oranges a week they thought would restore Homer’s sight, until he died, crushed under a junk booby-trap of his own making. Once Langley died, Homer slowly starved to death. The brothers had no phone, no electricity, no heat, just each other. Now that’s dedication.



I loved Eric, I think we were pretty close, but I’m not sure I could match that kind of sibling care. I think I would actually take Eric to a doctor instead of inventing my own dubious cures and I hope I would get him help if he developed a compulsive hoarding disorder.



Neither brother ever married, their whole lives were wrapped up in each other. I think my relationship with Eric was healthier, even if no one will write a book about us and crowds of New Yorkers will not gather outside our residences to gawk. I think that’s a good thing.

#233 Enough

Are you Ericed out? I know last week was a big week for all of us. In a couple of weeks we’ll have his birthday and that will be another big week. Are you emotionally exhausted by it all? I know I am.




I also know my blog had its best readership ever last week and the numbers have since fallen dramatically. I understand the need to get some space. I don’t want to be that annoying voice that pesters you over and over again; but still I’m going to be here.



Come back when you want and comment when you can. There should be no guilt for not visiting, but please don’t stay away too long. The act of writing the blog has been very healing for me, but knowing that you are reading makes it even better.



Take some time off, enjoy your holidays, hug your loved ones and, when you are ready, come check back in with me.

#232 He's everywhere

I had a really odd dream last night. I was in the car with my mom, she was driving and I was riding shotgun. We were on a highway somewhere when a silver pick up truck came driving up next to us. The front of the pickup had a sign on the top, a really large sign, which was also silver with red lettering. It had the University of Oklahoma logo and some text that I can’t exactly remember now. I think it represented some sort of challenge to Sooner fans, and it was funny, and it was signed by Eric. I remember thinking it must have been a vehicle that Eric had owned and then sold and the new owner just never changed the sign. I tried to get my mom to pull up next to it so I could take a picture, but we were always just behind or just in front and I never could get a good one.




Weird in so many ways. Eric never owned a pick up truck. (that I know of anyway) Eric loved Oklahoma, but I wouldn’t call him an OU fan or someone who would bait OU fans. He just wasn’t into sports.



I spent most of the rest of the night trying to remember exactly what the sign said and trying to figure out what the dream meant. Obviously I failed to remember what the wording was. I’m not sure what the dream meant, I’ve never really been into dream interpretation, but I think it means that for me, Eric is everywhere.



When I was little I can remember being told that God is everywhere, in everything. I can remember looking at a vase in the formal living room, a room where I was not allowed to play, and wondering if God was in that vase. I’m not trying to compare Eric to God except in this one small way, everything I see and do is infused with an awareness of Eric.



He would love that. We used to joke that if his head got any bigger it wouldn’t fit through the door, so he would be amused that I now live in a world interpreted by my experiences with him. He’s clearly not my sole influence and not the largest or the one I heed the most—but he is there. Always and everywhere.

#231 Vacation planning

I could really use Eric’s advice. I am trying to plan a summer trip for four families (including mine) to the Outer Banks. I have never been there, nor do I know much about the different areas. Eric would be really good at this. He would be able to, seemingly effortlessly:




1. Figure out the most desirable locations



2. Find a house large enough to sleep all of us but small enough to be affordable--on the beach



3. Find said house willing to rent for only the long weekend we want and not the entire week



4. Plan an itinerary of entertaining, interesting things to do for the adults and kids aged 8 to 6 months that will be there



5. Prepare a list of restaurants from basic to gourmet



6. Quite possibly enjoy the whole process



Eric, where are you when I need you??

#230 Inspirationless

I have been waiting all day for inspiration to strike. Some days I wake up and know what I’m going to write about. Some days it comes to me later. Some days I’m really lucky and I already have a blog written and ready to go.




Then there are days like today.



I’ve been really busy today. The boys and I had our usual Sunday morning outing to Starbucks before we dropped the older one at religious school. Then this afternoon I helped host a neighborhood holiday party. We just got home and I realized I still hadn’t come up with an idea for a post.



And that’s ok.



I have been thinking about it on and off all day. I’ve been looking for parallels with my childhood that I can share with you, but I just haven’t been able to come up with any. I’ve still been thinking about Eric and thinking about this blog and for today, that’s just going to have to be good enough.

#229 Hungry. Breast. Hungry.

Today my oldest baby turns 7. He was conceived in Philadelphia after numerous tries and some help from fertility specialists. He was born in Oklahoma about 6 months into my first year of residency. He captured my heart from the minute I knew he existed. I think he captured his uncle’s heart at about the same time.




Eric was in Oklahoma for my son’s birth and I have already posted some of the pictures he took here.



Here is the transcript of a letter Eric wrote to him before he was even a year old. You won’t get the full effect as the letter is written on a card shaped like a half moon with teeny tiny, almost intelligible letters curving around to fit the space, but you wouldn’t be able to read it if I just took a picture so I’ll type it out for you.



“Dear (child’s name here),

Well here it is boy, your very first business trip look. I can just imagine what was going through your mind when you heard that Uncle Eric was going to Finland: Hungry. Breast. Breast, breast, hungry, hungry. Hungry, hungry, hungry, hungry, breast, breast, breast! Breast. Hungury. Breast, hungry, breast, hungry; hungry hungry breast hungry hungry hungry. Breast! Breast! Hungry, Hungry, hungry, hungry! (Do you know something, the more you write a word, the more absurd it seems.) At any rate, this is why I feel pretty confident that you wouldn’t be disappointed by the fact that I got you clothes. I know, clothes. But let’s face it, if your Uncle Eric doesn’t dress you, Mommy is likely to, and that can’t be good. Besides, if you look real close, there is a toy! I even sucked on it to make sure it tastes good. I have to go now, because if I don’t pretend to work, they stop paying me, and then no clothes (with toys) for anyone!



Love,



Eric”



As best as I can I have preserved Eric’s misspellings and punctuation.



I can remember getting this card and crying with laughter. I can remember trying to read it over the phone to my mom and gasping with breath I was laughing so hard. I also remember the outfit. I wouldn’t exactly call it business attire, or really any type of attire. It consisted of blue and white printed pants and a white shirt that never really ever fit. It was also so ugly that I never would have dressed him in it anyway. It just led to more laughter.



Oh Eric, we miss you so much.

#228 525,600 minutes

Five hundred twenty-five thousand


Six hundred minutes,

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Moments so dear.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Six hundred minutes

How do you measure, measure a year?



In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights

In cups of coffee

In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.



In five hundred twenty-five thousand

Six hundred minutes

How do you measure

A year in the life?



How about love?

How about love?

How about love? Measure in love



Seasons of love. Seasons of love



Above are the lyrics to “Seasons of Love” from the musical Rent. I learned this song last spring for a voice recital given by my voice teacher. I like the song, but I never really thought all that much about it.



Last night I was watching television and a commercial for a jewelry store came on featuring this song. I guess because it was just a day after the anniversary, it really hit me. How do you measure a year? What would Eric have done with the last year? What have I done with it? How could I have better used it? What will I do with the next one?



Some of the answers to those questions are obvious, some are not. Some are unanswerable. I like the idea of measuring with love though. I’m going to try and do that.

#227 Thankful

Thank you.




I have found the thankfulness I was missing at Thanksgiving. Yesterday was a really rough day, although I have to say, the anticipation was worse. I didn’t know how I was going to feel or what it was going to be like. It was just another day and yet there was so much significance there. Thanks to you, it was more uplifting than I thought it would be.



I am thankful for my husband who let me have a day off from life. I helped get the boys up for school and then retreated to the bedroom until they left. I didn’t leave the house or really do anything productive, but it was still time well spent. By the boys’ bedtime I was ready to face the world again. Thank you for that gift.



I am thankful to my sons who noticed the Yahrzeit (memorial) candle I had burning for Eric and remembered him also, but didn’t let it dampen their spirits. I needed them to be themselves to pull me out of myself, and they were wonderful. Another gift.



I am thankful to all of the friends and family who contacted me through the blog, email, facebook and phone calls. Your comments were beautiful and poignant and though some made me cry, they were just what I needed. Many, many gifts.



I am thankful that Eric had so many wonderful friends and experiences. It means more people are hurting now, but it helps to know how full his short life was.



The anniversary fell on the last night of Chanukah this year and I got so many wonderful gifts I wasn’t expecting.



Thank you.

#226 Anniversary

I miss you.  I remember you formally, here, everyday.  I remember you informally too many times a day to count.  You are in everything I say and do.  You are my brother and you are a part of me. 

Please support me, my family and everyone else who knew and loved Eric with your comments today. 

Thank you.

#225 Annoying little brother

Lately my oldest son has started introducing my younger son as his “annoying little brother”. He’ll make this introduction to complete strangers including wait staff at restaurants, check out people at the grocery store and random people on the sidewalk. His friends are starting to refer to my little one as the “annoying little brother”. I might have to have a talk with my older son…..




Eric was my annoying little brother. As annoying as he was (and oh was he!) we still had so many great times together. I watch my children play together and know that although the older one seems fixated only on the annoyances; they do get along well and have a lot of fun. They can be sweet to each other and genuinely care about the other one. They too will have so many wonderful memories of growing up together.



I think it’s impossible to have a sibling and not find them annoying from time to time. I’m just glad that’s not all there is even if they can’t see it. They will someday. And either we’ll just start calling the little one ALB, or we’ll watch them unite in annoyance against the new little brother who’ll be making an appearance in February.



Please remember to come back tomorrow and share your memories of Eric or other stories on this very painful anniversary. I’m going to need your help getting through the day.

#224 You're invited

Today I am issuing an invitation to you. Wednesday is the first anniversary of Eric’s death. I would love it if you would comment on the blog that day and tell us all about your interactions with Eric. I’d love to hear your Eric stories, your memories and words for him. My family and I will all be thinking about him and it would be so nice for us to know that you are too. If you didn’t know Eric, please feel free to comment on why you read this blog, a loss of your own, or anything else that moves you.




To tie up some loose ends from yesterday, I didn’t receive any terrible phone calls and a quick check of facebook assures me that all of Eric’s friends ran well and are doing fine.



My performance also went well although I definitely had a different energy than last year. Hopefully the audience couldn’t tell.



I leave you with this sentiment from the daughter of a friend of mine.

#223 The Sunday before...

Last year on this day I performed in “Honk!”. After the show I stayed to help strike the set. It was a while before I checked my cell phone and when I did I found an urgent message from my husband telling me to call and come home. I have already written about that day here.




Today I am performing in “Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat” and afterwards I plan on staying to strike the show. I will check my cell phone earlier though.



Several of Eric’s friends are running in half-marathons in his memory today. It scares me to death. I understand their motivation and I love that they are remembering him and honoring him, but to have them run is really hard for me.



I really hope I have no scary voice mails after the show. I hope I have no desperate texts or emails either. I hope today contains an amazing performance and is otherwise uneventful.



To those that are running, best of luck. Stay hydrated and don’t push yourselves too hard. I’ll be thinking of you.

#222 Hunka Junka Unka

My husband and I took the boys to IHOP for breakfast this morning. In retrospect, this was a poor decision. Neither of the boys was at the top of the behavior scale. Oh well, you win some, you lose some. It made me think about trips to IHOP when I was a kid though. Of course then, IHOP was cool slang for the name of the restaurant which was actually The International House of Pancakes. I remember when my uncle first taught us to say IHOP, boy did we feel special.




My kids each ordered different “face” pancakes. My youngest got the healthier version, the “Create a Face” which is a pancake with a banana smile, strawberry eyes and a tube of strawberry yogurt you can use to decorate the face. My oldest ordered the “Funny Face” which has whip cream and chocolate chips for the smile and nose and maraschino cherry eyes. This is what Eric and I would always get.



I think the same trip to IHOP when we learned the insider’s way to say it, Eric and I got all hopped up on the sugar and probably behaved even worse than my kids did today. I can just remember chanting over and over, “Hunka Junka Unka (Uncle’s name here)”. I’m sure the other patrons really appreciated it. I’m sure my uncle did too. Actually, he probably started it.



There are a lot of memories out there just waiting to be triggered. So while I’m still not happy with my kids’ behavior, I’m glad this memory was dredged out of the backlog. Too bad my kids never got to call their uncle “Hunka Junka Unka Eric”.

#221 Smile

There is a song by the group Good Old War called My Own Sinking Ship that has absolutely nothing to do with death or dying or grieving. I think it’s about a dysfunctional relationship. There is one line in it that gets me every time. I may not even realize that the song is playing, but my brain always perks up at that one line.




“I can’t remember your last smile.”



I know I wasn’t even there for his last smile, not even close, but this line just speaks to me. I love Eric’s smile. I have so many great pictures of it displayed around my house and even more in my heart.



I hope Katie remembers his last smile. I’m sure he had one as they were talking and joking around in the hospital when we all thought this was going to be nothing more than a big scare.



I would give almost anything to see it live again.

#220 Just another day...

I learned a macabre fact this morning. John Lennon and Eric died on the same day 29 years apart. I decided to see if there were any more similarities in their lives.




Lennon was British, Eric was decidedly not.



Lennon was a famous musician, again, Eric was not.



Lennon suffered a violent, unexpected death, Eric did not.



Lennon lived in the Dakota, Eric and I fantasized about living in the Dakota. Getting a little closer there.



They both wore glasses.



There we go; I have found the fact that ties them together. They both wore glasses. Along with millions of other people. And there are also millions of other people throughout history who have died on December 8th.



I guess there’s no special connection there. It’s just another day of remembering. I’ll be thinking of the Lennons, and all the other unknown families who have lost loved ones on that day, but mostly, I’ll just be thinking of Eric.

#219 Tense

Yesterday I was talking to a patient and a story about Eric just came up. I was already telling it before I decided what tense to use. The patient had amblyopia (one eye that doesn’t see well from childhood due to poor brain development from a variety of reasons) and so did Eric. I was telling her that even as an adult he felt he got some improvement from patching his good eye, even though all of the studies say it makes no difference after about age 7.




I started in past tense. That startled me. Then I started thinking the patient would notice that I was using past tense and might ask me about it. I really didn’t want to go into it. So I switched to present tense. That also made me uncomfortable; kind of like I was lying. So I just ended the story as quickly as I could and moved onto something else.



I don’t have a problem talking about Eric with family or friends or really anyone who already knows what has happened. New friends are tough, in order for me to be able to talk about him I have to go through the whole thing with them and even though it’s painful, it’s worth it.



Acquaintances and patients usually just aren’t worth the story. For the same reason I’m still trying to button my white coat around my ever-expanding pregnant belly; I just don’t want to go into it. It’s not the time to be talking about me, and it generally puts me in a place I don’t want to be.



I guess the anecdotes will pop up where they will and I’ll just decide how (or if) to tell them on a case by case basis. And what tense to use. Once again, it’s the language that trips me up.