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.
Liz. We are thinking of you today. Anniversaries are so, so hard.
ReplyDeleteThank you for introducing me to Eric-- his sense of humor, his convictions, his story. He lives on through you and your family and all of your lasting memories of an unforgettable man.
And now, he lives through all of us, too.
We love you.
xo
"The days of our lives, for all of us, are numbered," she wrote. "We know that. And yes, there are certainly times when we aren't able to muster as much strength and patience as we would like. It's called being human. But I have found that in the simple act of living with hope, and in the daily effort to have a positive impact in the world, the days I do have are made all the more meaningful and precious. And for that I am grateful." Elizabeth Edwards
ReplyDeleteMy idea of God exists in both grief and gratitude and I love that I get to choose. You are so very fortunate to have had such an amazing brother and to have honored his memory in this way. I am deeply grateful for you, Liz, and send love with a BIG, LONG HUG. Carol
Liz and Mike and boys, I have so enjoyed your words of Eric. I never met him and I feel like I know him now. He would have been my friend, had I met him. This anniversary must be very hard, but keep on keein on. It's ok to talk of him every day. Think of him often. You were siblings, how lucky to have the memories. My husband has no siblings. I feel sad sometimes that he doesn't know that bond. It is what it is. I will be thinking of you and your family today and this holiday season. Lori
ReplyDeleteI will always remember the time when Eric came to visit a few years ago and I took him and the boys to Pike's for lunch. Not only did he buy the boys milkshakes BEFORE lunch, but he also bought them soda (with caffeine) and encouraged them spin around and around and around in the bar chairs with him while we waited for our table. I thought would all drive me completely insane before we could get home that day :)
ReplyDeleteEric's free spirit lives on thru you and your boys. May we never forget what a funny, generous, loving, brilliant person he was :) I love you guys!
I'm smiling thinking about them spinning around on the bar chairs - and imagining them all wearing footie pajamas or seersucker suits and hoping that Pike's serves a Doritos entree! Thank you for this blog, Liz - I really admire you for it. Molli
ReplyDeleteMy dear, sweet friend Liz,
ReplyDeleteI am trying to recall if I ever formally met Eric. I don't think so... It's hard for me to say for sure because I feel like I knew him. I loved getting Eric updates when we were in residency and thereafter. I have also enjoyed reading about him in your blog.
I remember being fascinated by all of his "wild" adventures. I was so happy when he finally found love and so devastated when you called to tell me about his heart attack. He always struck me as being an incredibly loving and giving person with a brilliant mind and a great sense of humor.
You all are in my prayers. I love you girl.
T
Liz and family,
ReplyDeleteThinking of you lots today and sending hugs and love your way. I'm not sure I ever formally met Eric either. I imagine I saw him at your wedding, but I don't have any specific memories of him... except hearing all the wonderful stories you have shared about what an amazing person, brother, uncle, and son he was to all of you.
I am so sorry for your loss again, but I am so happy that he lives on through you and your incredible boys. Best wishes today and always. Love--the Grahams
Thinking of you, today, Liz. My memories of Eric were as the "little brother". I feel like I "got to know him" as an adult through your blog. It has been fun to see memories of mine flash on the screen.....trips to the bagel store to get candy on Sunday mornings, the light upstairs in your old house.
ReplyDeleteI think your blog has been wonderful....and I hope it has brought healing to you, because I know it has helped many others dealing with recent and unexpected loss. May 2011 be abundant with new life. Hugs
Liz,
ReplyDeleteI am thinking of you today, and was eager to check the blog today to see the comments from your readers and Eric's friends--from his own life, and the ones who have gotten to know him through you and this blog.
Sending you love, Sarah
I've been thinking about Eric a lot lately. One recurring memory is of his not-so-random phone calls last fall. You were rehearsing for "Honk!" on Sundays and Eric would always call at the same time and fall back on the family line, "I never know when to call!" We'd inevitably talk for awhile about whatever was going on and then he'd ask to talk to his nephews. The little guy was was ALWAYS in the middle of his nap and we'd both just start laughing as he'd insist over and over that we needed to work the naps around his schedule.
ReplyDeleteFor whatever reason, that whole routine never seemed to get old. This fall, when you were again in show rehearsals, the phone would occasionally ring on Sunday afternoons and each time, I'd immediately flip back to those memories. It's funny how our minds work sometimes and while I still miss him terribly, I'm grateful for all the little reminders that pop up when I'm least expecting them.
(part 1) I remember good times and bad. We dated in college and had a rough break-up, but somehow managed to remain friends after the fact. When I think of Eric, I think of his love for his family, his college roommates, and his desire to make an impact on the world. In college, I heard a lot about his parents (especially his mom) and his aunt so I had a pretty good idea of how Eric had gotten to be such a character. He got advice from his dad (like he forwarded me an email from his dad, who advised him to pick a different vacation than the one we had planned--going to Cancun to camp on an uninhabited beach)--but we went ahead anyway and survived near-monsoon weather (IN A TENT), electrocution (when we finally caved and rented a place and dared to try to turn on the air-conditioner), getting on the wrong bus on a trip to Chichen Itza (and missing the summer soltice ceremony because we were out in the boonies on this (*)*$(#) bus that had chickens on it.) I remember the bus trip especially because we were both so furious with each other because we blamed each other for the mix-up-- but eventually (on the ride home), we were able to laugh about it. I liked that about Eric- I felt like it was pretty easy to see where you stood with him. He had a serious side, too. I remember when Eric called me after his mom got sick-- I'd never seen him so upset.
ReplyDeleteEric also shared lots of memories from growing up-- and they were always funny to hear. I remember Eric talking about his friends from New Jersey when he was growing up-- but he never said "New Jersey"-- he always named the town (I think because it sounded better than saying you used to live in New Jersey). I remember that Eric went through a phase where his favorite book was "Ender's Game"-- I found an email from October 1996 where he talked about it. He wrote: "I just tried to call you, but Kimmy said you were catching some Zzzzzzs. I would love to get together and study tonight (I've got gov. tommorrow.) How would studying until a terribly late hour and then watching a movie grab you? I would even bring over milk for hot chocolate. I'm sorry I was so blaaaah last night (and this morning), but I was utterly absorbed in this book. Have you ever read ENDER'S GAME? I'm still in a bit of a daze. If you want to understand me, EXPLICITLY, read it. I have never, in any work, felt so close to a character. I have never saw myself mirrored so well in any book. Ender IS me and I AM Ender. What an incredible book! :) I was so rapt in it this morning that when I finished it, I couldn't believe it was over. How could my life abruptly end? I know this attempt at DEEPNESS probably seems melodramatic, but I'm not very articulate right now. Read it."
(part 2) I had read the book before and it's one of my favorites too-- I'd never identified with Ender, but I loved the character, and I loved Eric too. Other memories-- we used to catch dinner together a lot. I had too many extracurriculars and would always miss dinner, so I frequently went to Border and would treat Eric to food too. Eric used to make fun of me for always ordering the same dish. (It's off the menu, now, sadly-- the name was Chicken San Antonio. I think I ordered it around 40 times in a row without trying anything new.) Finally, one night, Eric announced that he was going to order it too, so he did-- and from that night on, he was hooked. I went on to order other things, but he remained committed to that one dish. Some of my best memories are of Eric sleeping at my place-- somewhere, I have a photo of him on a rug, in front of the fireplace, fast asleep, exhausted after a night of studying. (I lucked out with a working fireplace freshman year, and Eric loved to hang out in front of it.) If I knew my time with him would be so limited, I would have done so many things different-- so it's really tough to write about memories because I wish I had told him more how important he was to me, and how much I cherished his friendship. We had a strange phone conversation a little (weeks?) before he died, and I actually did get to tell him how much he meant-- but I still feel a huge sense of loss. I was looking forward to hearing of his adventures and seeing where on Earth he would end up (and what company he would end up creating or running). I also really wanted to meet his future kids-- I had so many gag gifts picked out for them (like Eric had sent me a link to a baby toupee, and that was on my list for his future child.) I talked to a friend tonight a little about Eric, and she reminded me of a photo that she has of Eric holding a baby-- (a friend of mine had a new baby, and Eric and I drove to New York to visit)-- she said he just looked so happy. There was so much that Eric had done with his life, but so much left for him to conquer. He is loved, and greatly missed. My words don't do justice.
ReplyDeleteI didn't know Eric but it seems that he was an amazing, unique person. I read your blog every day without fail. Even the entries written when you are obviously down in a bad place are somehow inspirational and uplifting. I admire you so much for doing this and for being able to go on as you have. My thoughts have been with you all day. Syndee
ReplyDeleteLiz- I remember your brother in childhood. He was precocious then. I can only imagine was he was in adulthood, but I get a clear vision of his unique approach, and the fierce love you had for him (and I am sure he had for you). You have done him a great honor.
ReplyDeleteI didn't know Eric but I love your tribute to him. It inspires me to love those around me and appreciate every second. I know it inspires lots of others too - what a wonderful way to honor someone you love.
ReplyDeleteA couple of simple stories illustrated how I'll always remember Eric.
ReplyDeleteOne of the first times (if not the first time) I met Eric was when the families of Mike and Liz met up in Philadelphia for Liz's graduation from medical school. We all went out to the Manayunk Brewery. I'd heard a lot about Eric, so I knew there were any number of topics he could talk about. What did we settle on? Humor from the movie 'Fargo.' I think we quoted the movie enough that night to have gone through the whole film. We decided we were going to put it on when we got back to Mike and Liz's (though Eric made it through about 10 minutes before he fell asleep). I appreciated his sense of humor.
Another time I met up with Eric was during one of his cross-country trips. He stopped at my parents' in Iowa for the night. We were talking to him about his trip, where he'd been, where he was planning on going, etc. Heading west as he was, many people would be looking forward to the Rocky Mountains, or maybe the deserts of the southwest. Not Eric; he was talking about seeing the world's largest ball of twine in Nebraska and wondering whether he'd have time to swing up through South Dakota to check out the Corn Palace. Eric didn't give in to preconceived notions (if he had any) about any place he was. He seemed to have the ability make sure he found enjoyment from it no matter how simple. He was definitely a person who 'got it.' I don't think he thought he was above anything. He always found a way to enjoy the moment. Unfortunately, that's not something a lot of people (myself included) can say. It was a pleasure to meet someone so genuine, and I don't think that was lost on anyone who knew him.
Justin Fields, 1 of 2
ReplyDeleteDuring our Junior year of college, somehow we decided that Eric would come home with me to Oklahoma over spring break. We had some vague plan about eating Chicken Fried Steak and going camping. Sure enough, we decided Black Mesa in the OK panhandle would be a good destination, so we loaded up the family car, borrowed Mom's cell phone, and took off. I think Eric was a little naive to road trips in the American west at that point. As the sun began to set, he shouted that something was wrong..."There aren't any lights on the highway! Do you think it's safe to travel out here?" Despite the dangers, we turned on the headlights and forged ahead. We camped 2 days at Black Mesa among the yucca and tumbleweeds. On the last day, we packed our car and thought about what to do prior to going home. We noted that, on the map, the Oklahoma panhandle and Roswell, New Mexico, weren't that far apart, so we decided to drive by there on the way back to Norman, OK. In reality this added about 7 & 1/2 hours of driving to make a total of 15 for the day. And it was awesome. We had a blast. We talked, we told jokes, we listed to the radio, we stopped to look at random stuff on the highway, Eric took a leak outside the car and hand to pretend he was checking the tires when some farmer stopped to ask us if we needed help, and we talked excitedly about how cool Roswell would be when we got there. In reality, Roswell itself didn't live up to our hype, but the journey getting there was well worth it. We had Chicken Fried Steak at the Big Texan on the way home.
After graduating college, Eric and I drove cross-country from New York City to San Diego so he could start a job there. Our plan had been to spend several days out East including the Smokey Mountains, stop briefly in Oklahoma, and then head west. Instead, I called home the first morning of our trip and found out that my cousin, Brad, had died in a car accident. We then rushed to Oklahoma and spent most of Eric’s planned vacation there instead. Eric never complained about his lost vacation days and never seemed rushed to get on the road despite a looming job start-date. Instead he was supportive and available to me and the rest of the family. I have often thought of the coincidence that he was with me when I found out my cousin had died and there with my family during our grieving, only to have his own life cut short years later and to have us grieving over him. I still remember him saying as we were driving, “Justin, if you need to talk about the fact that your cousin just died, I’m ready to listen.” I’m not sure what I said, but I know he listened.
Justin Fields 2 of 2
ReplyDeleteIn April 2009, Eric made a return trip to Oklahoma, this time to run the Oklahoma Memorial half-marathon. Again, I’m not sure how this plan started…we had both ran some 5K and 10K races, and neither one of us had done a half-marathon, so at some point we decided we’d do it, he bought a plane ticket, and we signed up. It was a great weekend. We again searched out good Chicken Fried Steak, we took the kids to ‘Touch a Truck’, watched Australia, told jokes and stories, played with the kids, hung out with my wonderful wife Kristine, and of course, ran the half-marathon. The race was tough. Tougher than either one of us thought it would be. We ran it side-by-side the whole way; we didn’t walk. I know that alone, neither one of us would have finished it close to the time we did. We both hurt a lot afterwards and spent most of the rest of the day sitting on the couch, reveling in our discomfort and elated for finishing the run, proudly wearing our medals around the house. He flew home the next day and we were already planning to repeat the run in April 2010 and he was going to bring Katie with him for that one. Unfortunately, that day was the last I spent with Eric.
When I saw a missed call from Eric’s cell phone one year ago today, followed quickly by another call, I figured Eric was calling me to tell me he was finally engaged to Katie. When Katie introduced herself on the phone instead I knew something was terribly wrong. In some ways I think I’m still reeling from that moment, like it just happened. Other times it seems like forever ago that he was here.
Eric was always the friend I needed him to be. Whether on a road trip, hanging out with my entire family, running a race, telling jokes, providing witty commentary, playing games, or grieving at a funeral, Eric was a friend in the truest sense of the word.
I’m thankful for the years I knew Eric. I’m thankful for the amazing life he led; he certainly accomplished more in 32 years than most of us will in a typical lifespan. But today, on the anniversary of his death, I’m still grieving his loss. Life is not the same without him.
I miss my friend.
I knew Eric in 2007, when he was in New Zealand. I lived there myself for 3 years, even though I'm originally from France, via the UK.
ReplyDeleteWe met through a dating site, and after a couple of dates, it turned out we were more suited to be friends.
So we hung out a lot, went on some road trips and holidays together. It was great spending time with Eric, who was so witty and easy-going.
He was there with me on my birthday, whe we took a trip to the East Cape, and I ended up losing my job quite abruptly. He was really comforting and we managed to continue the day and the holiday quite happily.
I remember being quite impressed by Eric, his intelligence, his drive...
Like when he learnt to ride a bike and bought one to go and explore NZ!
Or like when he bought himself a little piano-type thing to learn playing!
He wanted to write a book; I would have loved to read it. I don't know if he ever got around to starting it.
I felt there was so much Eric would do with his life, he had so much potential, I was really curious to see where all this energy would lead him, and hoped we would stay in touch for a long time.
In his own words, he had reached some corporate heights in NZ, but he felt unsure about that, and what to do next. He wrote me in November last year, saying he had "a great girlfriend and a decent job", and it did feel like he had found a good place to be at last!
I miss not receiving the States of the Eric anymore...
My thoughts are with you and your family, Liz, I enjoy reading your blog every now and again.
Happy Birthday (almost) Eric
ReplyDeleteMy daughter Vera was born on January 1st , 2010, your birthday.
I feel so blessed to have spent 28 torturous days with you and the Rutherford Crew at Outward Bound. It wouldn't have been the same without your humor, stubborness and honesty.
We were bonded by our "American-ness" and on the day we were doing community service (clearing walking path along a road) we sang (badly) every American song we could think of: Yankee Doodle, You're a Grand Old Flag, America the Beautiful.... We sang again together hiking in the mountains, this time every Tv theme song we could think of from our childhood. Eric, I'm so sad I won't see you again in this lifetime.
Me and the Rutherford crew miss you. Love to you wherever you are. -Deva