#366

Today is Saint Eric’s day. Seriously.




Eric was a Swedish king about whom very little is known. He reigned for 5 years before being murdered at age 41 by a rival claimant to the throne. It is said that a fountain sprung from the earth where his head landed after he was beheaded. He codified the laws of his kingdom which became known as King Eric’s law. He also did much to promote Christianity in his land and in Finland. He is the patron saint of Stockholm and featured on the seal of the city.



My Eric was a New Jersey boy who would have loved to be a king. Not much is known about him in the greater world, but this blog will hopefully change that. He was not murdered, but died young and unjustly. A fountain of tears was seen in his hospital room. He created laws in his world. Laws such as:



1. Transcend climate—Wear what you want regardless of the weather.



2. It’s ok, in fact it’s preferable, to eat Doritos or a bag of popcorn for dinner. Dessert can be a mix of melted Milky Ways and Goldfish crackers.



3. An apartment does not need a couch, but a reading room is a must.



4. When buying presents for children, the larger and louder the better.



5. When buying presents for everyone else, be generous.



6. Do what you love to do even if everyone else doubts your way.



7. Let your love for your family and friends be known.





He is the patron saint of my heart and my family. He is incredibly missed and will never be forgotten.



Thank you for reading and supporting me through this journey. Please continue to follow me at my new home, LITTLE MANic where I’ll continue to write about my life, my boys and of course, Eric.

#365 Camouflage

I am almost done. This is the second to last post in this blog. There are so many things I could write about today.




I could talk about how it feels to be so close to the end, certainly there are many conflicting emotions.



I just got back from a weekend in Savannah where my parents, husband, uncle and I scattered my grandmother’s ashes. We put some of them in my parent’s backyard, with Eric’s. It was incredibly emotional and worthy of a blog post.



I could shamelessly plug my friend Sarah’s blog, Lunch Box Mom, for several reasons. It’s an excellent blog all around, but today’s is all about me and my blog.



But what I really want to talk about is camouflage.



Yup, camouflage.



Eric had a camouflage outfit before you could buy it in any store. He was obsessed with all things military and my mom went to the Army Navy Surplus Store and bought him camouflage. It didn’t come in kid’s sizes so she had to take it in and shorten it and she gradually let it out and lengthened it as he grew so he was able to wear it for years. Eric flirted with ROTC in college and tried to become a Marine JAG in law school. I don’t think he really ever got over his military dreams; his knees were what kept him a civilian.



My seven year old informed me last week that he intends to go into the army when he grows up. He has a highly formed sense of justice and wants to help defend our country and others who can’t defend themselves. I can’t say I’m thrilled about this career choice, I don’t want my son in harm’s way, but he’s only seven, maybe he’ll grow out of it. At the moment I’m choosing to support him. I got him some camouflage shorts. Luckily for him they do make kid’s sizes now because I’m not the seamstress my mother is. Whenever I see him in them, I think about Eric.



I haven’t told him about Eric’s military ambitions, I really don’t want to encourage him and that might just do it. He loves being compared to Uncle Eric. I think I’ll just keep this comparison to myself.



Oh, and you really should check out Lunch Box Mom’s blog both for me and because I think you‘ll find her other posts informative, interesting and entertaining. You can find it here.



Stayed tuned for the last installment of this blog coming this week

#364 The Green Dodge Dart

My seven year old reminded me of an Eric story that I had temporarily forgotten yesterday. We were packing the car in preparation for a trip to Savannah and he asked if he could sit in the driver’s seat while he waited for us to finish. I automatically said no, but that he could sit in the front passenger seat. When he asked me why I realized it was because of Eric.




When Eric and I were little my dad had a green Dodge Dart that he bought from a dealership called Green Dodge. That always made me laugh. He bought it before I was born and I remember thinking that made the car ancient. There was no air conditioning and no power windows. There were pennies on the floor of the front passenger seat that I was (frustratingly) not allowed to touch. They were there for good luck.



One day the car was parked in our driveway on a small slope and Eric was playing in the driver’s seat. I don’t know if he accidentally released the emergency brake or if it wasn’t set or really what happened, but all of a sudden the car was moving. The windows were rolled down and I can still see my dad clinging to the top of the car door as he ran along with it trying to stop the car. The car was probably 10 feet from a stone wall and luckily my dad didn’t get pinned between the car and the wall and the wall stopped the car. No one was injured but no one was allowed to play in the driver’s seat anymore either. Including my children.

#363 Crazier Than Me

I think we have officially established that left to my own devices while stuck on the couch feeding a baby I will watch junk television. I think Eric would be proud of me. After all if it was on TV he liked it. He introduced us to “Trading Spaces”, “SpongeBob Squarepants” and “Reno 911”.




The other day I found “18 Kids and Counting”. Clearly this was a rerun because the current version of the show is “19 Kids and Counting”. What couch potato could pass this by??? 18 kids?? Who is crazy enough to do that? How do you feed them? How do you transport them? How do you not run screaming into the woods and never come back????



The episode I watched was one where they were doing a fun run for some charity. I confess I don’t remember what the cause was. I do remember that they were all running in jeans because they believe that God doesn’t want them to show their thighs. Ok, but what does God have against lighter fabrics?? At least mom, who was pregnant (isn’t she always?), wasn’t running, but the rest were.



The father took the race as a challenge and was trying to beat his children to the finish line. They interspersed footage of him running with him and the kids commenting on his run. He had a hard time with it. He was admittedly out of shape and running full out for the first time in a long time. I was terrified. He was panting and wheezing and in the commentary stated that he felt like he was going to die. This is not a risk he needs to take! He has 18 ½ kids!!



Well of course he didn’t die. He finished and recovered his breath and decided to train a little more before the next one.



After I recovered my breath I decided that the most remarkable thing about this family is that all of the kids names start with J. Now that’s a challenge!

#362 Dick Deadeye Bites the Dust

I took my seven year old to his first opera last night. Opera Carolina is putting on HMS Pinafore, a Gilbert and Sullivan comic operetta and last night was the final dress rehearsal. They call that performance student night and for a steep discount you can bring, well, students.




I’m not a huge opera fan. I love musical theatre but I’ve never really gotten into opera. Still, I like Gilbert and Sullivan and thought an opera in English would be a good way to introduce the art form. We both liked it. The production was a good one and he seemed to be able to mostly follow the story. I helped when necessary. His favorite part was, of course, when Dick Deadeye kept falling or getting pushed off of the ship, but then again, he’s seven.



Mostly I’m just glad he liked it. I gave him the option to leave at intermission since it was getting late and the bus comes early, but he wanted to finish it out so we did.



I think my first opera might have been when Eric bought my husband and me tickets to the opera in Paris. I honestly can’t remember what we saw, but it was a magical night. We were in Paris (which is a good start) we got all dressed up, went out for a nice dinner and we went to the opera. We were young and in love and cultured. It felt good. And we never would have done it without Eric.



I think Eric would like that I took my son to the opera. He was more into it than I was. So I did it partly for Eric, partly for me and partly for my son. I like that combination.

#361 Suzanne's Journey

The fickle finger of fate has struck again. After weeks of suspecting it from her hints on facebook I found out that a friend of mine from high school has cancer. It’s not just any cancer either; it’s a very aggressive form of cervical cancer. It’s really scary. This is not supposed to happen to people my age. Just like nothing was supposed to happen to Eric.




While we were friends in high school we did not keep in touch after graduation. As with so many other friends, facebook has brought us back together. In this way I have learned what an amazing person she has become and gotten to know about her two wonderful boys and her fiancé. That’s right. She’s supposed to get married in September. To give you a hint of the personality in this one little package, there will be a tattoo artist at the wedding. Permanent party favor anyone? I say there will be a tattoo artist because there will be a wedding. She decided this today as she got the proof for her invitation. You too can read about her journey on her blog.

Wedding Excitement Turns to Cancer Treatment

I know she is scared. I know she is mourning the loss of being able to carry future children—although not necessarily the children themselves thanks to reproductive technology and a borrowed womb. I know she is worried for her boys. I also know she is strong and has the resources and support to get through this.



My mom asked me this morning why she would post about this on facebook. My answer was for the support of all of her friends. Without facebook I would never have known about this and been able to offer my support. Facebook brought me (and still brings me) a ton of support surrounding Eric. It may seem very exposed to my mom, but to me it’s a community. It brings together people from every stage of my life and lets me interact as much or as little as I please. It also lets me visit Eric’s page any time I want.



Suzanne, I wish you success and support on this journey you’d rather not be taking. Your community is here as well.

#360 I'm Good With That

I was driving through the city this morning and there was an intersection that was blocked off by police. I was stopped at a light so I tried to see what was going on. It looked like a ceremony of some sort. There were a lot of policemen and a lot of people on bikes. It looked like most of them had their heads bowed. Did someone die? Was someone on a bike hit by a car? Was it a policeman? Who knows? It could have been a bike safety rally, but my brain immediately jumped to memorial service. How our life experiences change us.




I was on my way to get a massage. My husband suggested I get one before I go back to work and a livingsocial deal came around and I jumped on it. Guess the name of my masseuse. Yup, Eric.



So half my day is gone (the massage was amazing by the way) and I spent a lot of it thinking about Eric. I bet I’ll think about him for most of the rest of the day too.



I’m good with that.

#359 Mother's Day Again

Mother’s Day. It was yesterday and it was the second one without Eric.




Growing up we always had a big Mother’s Day celebration. We would have another family over complete with grandmothers and of course my grandmothers were there. It was usually the first barbecue of the year and there were kids running around, a volley ball net set up in the backyard, and of course gifts for the moms and grandmoms.



Yesterday was a little different. We still celebrated but the crowd was a lot smaller. It was my parents and my family. No Eric, none of my grandmothers. No volley ball net.



We still had a good time. My husband, parents, the baby and I spent the afternoon watching the golf tournament and the big boys got to play with one of their favorite babysitters. During the tournament there was a moment of silence in memory of Seve Ballesteros a golfer who died three days before. During that moment I thought about him and his surviving family. I thought about Eric and I thought about all the moms out there who have ever lost a child.



After the tournament we barbecued and ate outside. The weather was beautiful and the food was good.



I loved my gifts from my boys (a framed photo of the three of them, gift certificates for books and Starbucks, a story written about me by my oldest, a homemade bookmark, a homemade flower and a beautiful painted rock) and my mother liked her gifts.



I didn’t know if I should bring up Eric or not. Part of me feels like I need to be his stand-in, to remind my mother that if he were here he would be celebrating her too. But she knows how much he adored her and she doesn’t need reminding. He’s always there. I didn’t bring him up, but I know we were all thinking about him and missing him.

#358 It just happened

I ran yesterday. I didn’t plan to nor did I want to. Those of you who read regularly will know that since Eric the thought of running terrifies me. I’ve never really liked it anyway and I thought I would never do it again. I’m making my husband jump through all kinds of hoops (stress echo scheduled for next week) before I’ll let him run. But it happened.




I was out for my usual walk through the neighborhood. It was overcast when I left but I didn’t think much about it. It’s been overcast a lot lately and frankly it’s nice to walk in that weather because it’s cooler.



About halfway through my walk I started hearing thunder. It got darker and darker and I started to feel ridiculous in my sunglasses. I was almost home when the skies opened.



I ran home. I took out my ear buds, cradled my iPhone to my shirt, mentally thanked my parents for minding the baby so he wasn’t with me and ran. It was a stretch of road that I vividly remember running with Eric and resenting him the whole time for goading me into running and out of my comfort zone of walking. He and my friend were way ahead and I was panting behind. But I did it.



By the time I got out of the shower yesterday the sun was shining.



Was that you Eric?

#357 Laughter

It’s the weekend of the Wells Fargo Championship golf tournament and my parents are visiting. Since we’ve moved to Charlotte they’ve been coming for the tournament and we all go together. It’s a lot of fun.




They arrived last night and so far have seen my oldest son test for a new belt in his Tae Kwon Do class (He got his high yellow belt!) and one of his little league games, but no golf. They’ll get some of that today.



Last night after the game and putting the big boys to bed we were eating Indian food and talking. It was very relaxed and we were all joking around. I think I have mentioned before that when we get together my mother usually ends up being the target of our teasing and last night was no different. My husband got in a few great zingers. Luckily my mother takes it well. All that was missing was Eric.



At one point I said “I think somewhere Eric is smiling”. It took effort to say it. There was effort to acknowledge that he was missing, to bring it up and remind everyone although I know we were all thinking it. Then I was also braving the subject of where he is now which none of us know and probably wouldn’t agree on anyway. But I still said it and I’m glad I did. I’m going to keep bringing him into the conversation.



Is this progress?

#356 Pizza

Eric had tastes both high and low. He was a fan of the finest French restaurant and the dingiest downtown diner. He would eat Chateaubriand or chicken fried steak with equal relish. He could also be happy with just a bag of Doritos or microwave popcorn. One thing I never understood though was his love of Dominos Pizza.




We grew up in New Jersey where they make the best pizza in the world. The slices are large, cheesy and greasy. You need to fold it to eat it. The crust is thin, but not too thin. It’s heaven on a plate.



I remember when Dominos first came to our area. It was exciting. Pizza delivered right to your door, oh my! Then we tasted the pizza. Oh my. Not exactly the standard we expected. But Eric loved it. He used to order it just for himself because the rest of us wouldn’t eat it.



When my parents and Eric moved to Thailand he ordered Dominos there too. I can understand that a little bit more since there was no good pizza there and Dominos represented home. But it was still terrible—even worse than in the states.



I never could quite comprehend how Eric could like the travesty of sauce and cheese that Dominos calls pizza, but yesterday my husband found a video that explains it all. If Eric were still here I would have sent him this video and we would have laughed and argued about its validity. Since he’s not here, I’ll share it with you. Credit goes to The Onion, a satirical news service that, ironically, Eric introduced to me.

http://mobile.theonion.com/video/dominos-scientists-testmobile-limits-of-what-humans-will,14252/?mobile=true

#355 Still shocking

It still shocks me when I see something written out with the baby’s full name. I can call him Andrew or Drew all day long and not necessarily have the association with Eric. When I see Andrew Eric written out it reminds me again of why he has his name. We have a sign hanging in the kitchen that my middle child’s school made for him in honor of his becoming a big brother; it has Andrew Eric written out. I have thank you notes with his full name on them. I get baby gifts addressed with his full name. It’s not that I don’t like the name or that it makes me sad it just kind of jolts me.




I don’t know why this is given that I obviously know what happened and named him that on purpose, but it does. I knew I wouldn’t be able to use Eric as a first name and I’m glad it’s his middle name, but I’m also glad I’m able to avoid it most of the time. Does that make sense?



I love Eric and I love Andrew and I love that Andrew is named for Eric and I’m glad we ordered it the way we did. There will only ever be one Eric in my life and there will only ever be one Andrew even though they share both names.

#354 Help

Many of you have suggested that I publish this blog. I would love to do that. The idea of having the Eric stories and the stories about my boys together in one place really excites me. It also excites me that this journey of mine has the potential to help someone else.




I am new to the world of publishing and am not really sure how to go about this. I had lunch with a good friend of mine today who is also writing a book and she gave me the name of her editor. Is that where I start? Do I need to find an agent first? Do I need to write a book proposal as another of my friends who is already published recommended? I am looking for any and all advice I can get.



As the number of remaining posts to be written dwindles I realize more and more how much I’m going to miss this forum. While I still plan to blog, I’d feel a lot better if I knew this project wasn’t really over. Publishing it would be a way of continuing it without actually adding to it. I think that would be really good for me.





I sometimes wonder how Eric would feel about all of this. I think he would approve. I think he would like the preservation of my memories even if he might remember some of them differently. I think he’d be ok with me spreading our stories. I know he’d be ok with anything that helped me.



If nothing else it would be a repository of memories for my kids. And that might be the best thing of all.

#353 A Good Death

Osama bin Laden is dead. How could I not write about that? Writing about anything else but that today just seems superfluous. On the one hand I know what it is like to grieve and being happy about someone’s death, a family’s loss, seems callous. On the other hand, we’re talking about a man who orchestrated the deaths of thousands. So, hooray!




This is the largest single event since Eric. I know I would be talking to him about it were he still here. I’m sure we would relive our 9/11 memories (I was working in the hospital, he was working in Riyadh) and talk about where the world goes from here. I miss his unique perspective on things.



Personally I’m worried that bin Laden left instructions in case of his death. I hope our homeland security personnel and their equivalents around the world are paying attention.



I know what it is like to lose a good person. I hope no one else learns what this is like because of bin Laden anymore.

#352 Not Too Busy

Our weekends have been really packed lately. I can only imagine what it will be like when we have three boys who have extracurricular activities.




This weekend my mother-in-law is visiting. Friday afternoon we had some work being done in the kitchen so we went out to dinner and for frozen yogurt afterwards. Saturday (yesterday) we had three little league games spread out throughout the day, two for my 7 year old and a tee-ball game for my 4 year old. I fed the baby while sitting on a blanket in the grass three times. I think I get extra mommy points for that. I also had concession stand duty for one of the games. My husband was coaching all of the games.



The last game was at 5:00 and ended at roughly the boys’ bedtime, but since we hadn’t eaten dinner we all went out to eat again. Then we came home and pretty much all fell into bed.



Today my oldest has religious school and then his religious school chorus is singing at the dedication of a Holocaust memorial statue. After that I don’t think we have anything planned until tomorrow, but we’ll probably take the boys to ride their bikes for grandma or something else like that. We’re planning on grilling for dinner tonight.



Last night we went out to dinner at a fantastic local burger place. They had televisions going and NASCAR was on. They put up a picture of one of the drivers, Jimmie Johnson. My 7 year old looked at me and said, “Hey, that guy looks like Uncle Eric”. I didn’t see the resemblance except for a similar 5 o’clock shadow type beard, but it made me happy that he did. Even when we’re not thinking about Eric, we are. All of us.

#351 Toyota

Lately I’ve been seeing lots of old green Toyota Corollas around town. I used to drive a 1996 green Toyota Corolla that I bought (well, my parents bought) new when I was a senior in college. I drove it until we moved to Charlotte in 2007. It was still in good condition minus a few dings when I decided I needed my post-residency splurge Lexus.




Eric had just moved back to the states from New Zealand and needed a car so he bought the Toyota from us. It served him well until someone hit him and it got totaled. Luckily he was not hurt. Although I guess that doesn’t matter so much now…..



I don’t know why seeing my old car reminds me of Eric when I had it for 11 years and he had it for one at the most, but it does.

#350 I'm Not Ready

I signed up for a “Strollercize” class through the Jewish Community Center. I thought it would be a good way to try and lose the baby weight and be social at the same time. The description in the program guide said the class would consist of a 2 mile walk with breaks for upper body work. It sounded good to me.




I did the first class three weeks ago and it was just as advertised. We walk in the neighborhood surrounding the JCC and stopped on the way out, on the way back and at the end to do some exercises with resistance bands. I felt the walking was probably slower than what I do on my own, but I liked the addition of the other exercises which I don’t do on my own.



I had to miss the next class due to an event at my 7 year old’s school and then there was no class last week because of Passover so yesterday was my second class.



They veered from the description in the program guide.



We alternated walking the strollers along a gravel track with circuit training on the outdoor basketball courts. We were even asked to run some of the laps.



I liked the addition of the circuit training, I am feeling it in my back and shoulders today and I need that kind of exercise. I panicked at the addition of running. I didn’t do it.



I felt badly that I wasn’t doing what the trainer asked and also that I didn’t want to explain why I wasn’t doing it. I just said “I don’t run” which could mean any number of things. I wasn’t the only one not running and I did push myself and walked really fast but I still felt really uncomfortable.



It’s still so hard to talk about Eric to people who don’t know about him. I don’t think that’s ever going to change. And I’m still not ready to run.

#349 Time Management

I know I need to be enjoying every moment of my life. If I have learned anything from Eric it’s this. The weather is gorgeous and I want to be outside, but the laundry needs to be done and the baby needs to be fed and the kitchen needs to be cleaned. And I’m exhausted and would love to take a nap.




Sometimes I can ignore the housework and play with the kids, or take a walk, or a nap but not always. It does need to get done somehow.



In about a month the ultimate buzz kill is coming. I’m going to have to go back to work. I am loving being home and I want to savor every minute of it. I also feel like I should get all the big house projects done before I go back because if I feel pressed for time now, it will only get worse when I add work into the mix.



I hope I can find a way to get it all done and still stay sane. I want the impossible. I want it all. My kids will never be this age again. Life continually changes and moves on and ends whether you want it to or not. I have to take advantage. Somehow I will.

#348 A Perfect Day

Yesterday was about as perfect as a day can get. The big boys helped me make chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast and then helped their dad do the grocery shopping. After lunch, we went to a local elementary school where the big boys rode their bikes and played baseball while the little guy and I watched. The weather was gorgeous, tons of other people were out, there was no place we had to be, so no sense of rush. The day ended with a delicious dinner made by my husband. It may not get any better.




I hate it that Eric will never experience this type of day with a family of his own. He probably wouldn’t be coaching his kids in baseball (unless they needed help learning to play in the dirt in the outfield), but they’d probably be outside building rockets or setting things on fire with magnifying glasses. It’s not the activity that matters, it’s the togetherness.



In a life where I am increasingly worried about how fleeting time is and how quickly my kids are growing up and how everything I want to do may not happen, it was a slow motion day. I didn’t worry about any of that. I enjoyed the sun and the kids and my husband and the day. I need more of those.

#347 Eric in the Air

I’m waiting for the baby to wake up and eat so we can go walking. I have mentioned before that I live in a great neighborhood for walking. I love to look at the houses and the landscaping and I love the neighborly feel I get saying hi to all the other walkers, runners and bikers. I don’t think I’ve ever gone out and not seen anyone else.




When I first moved here I met a woman who is one of my best friends here. She and I used to get up REALLY early and go walking in the neighborhood. She introduced me to the “booty loop”—the path taken by the co-eds at Queens University, and really pushed me to go faster and longer.



When Eric visited he came with us on our walks. The two of them were in much better shape than I was and I hated that they walked ahead and pushed me to run at the same time that I liked that they got along. Eric also really liked our neighborhood and every time he visited he would walk or run in it.



We’ve only been here in Charlotte for 3 ½ years, but I have memories of Eric in and around my house and I’m grateful for them.



His pictures are all over my house and I know I’ll carry him with me wherever I go, but if we ever move I’ll be a little sad that I’m leaving the last place that Eric knew me and my family.

#346 Accidental Song

I am doing a lot of walking these days trying to lose the baby weight. Yesterday my big boys had Tae Kwon Do and there is an indoor track literally steps from the door to their classroom, so the baby and I did laps. I was listening to music as I walked and a great song came on that I hadn’t heard in a while. I am a singer and there are certain songs that I find almost irresistible, the sound almost flies out of me before I am aware. It just feels that good to sing these songs. And it almost happened on the track yesterday. I caught myself just barely in time and my first thought was how Eric and I would laugh if I had actually belted out a song. It made me laugh and smile to myself. Anyone else on the track who saw me must have thought I was crazy. But I didn’t care. Because Eric wouldn’t have cared. He never cared what anyone thought.




I can remember Eric in a pool at a hotel in Tel Aviv with flippers, snorkel and mask. I was 16 at the time and thought he was the height of dorkiness; I was embarrassed to be related to him, but he never cared.



Thinking about him made me smile as I walked; it actually put a bounce in my step. And after the other two walkers left the track and I was on the section that was behind the classroom where the kids were and no one else could see, I did a few dance steps to another great song. I’m not as brave as Eric, but I’m trying.

#345 The End is Near

It seems I am slowing down my blogging pace. Some of this is undoubtedly due to the presence of the baby. It’s hard to accomplish much when he wants to eat every three hours and takes at least 30 minutes of that time to get it done. Still, I wonder if some of it has to do with a desire not to finish.




I enjoy writing the blog and sharing my life with all of you. I love the feedback that I get here, on facebook and through email. I like the dedicated time to think about Eric, even though I think about him all the time anyway.



Mostly though, I don’t want another ending in my life. I don’t think I want to finish. I’m toying with the idea of only writing for 365 days. That way I can always come back and finish it later…or not. And it isn’t quite so final.



When I started this blog I wondered if it would hurt to end it, if it would bring back all those fresh memories of loss and now I know that it will. 366 days seemed like forever, but it’s almost gone. And Eric’s still gone. And I still hurt. Although it has gotten somewhat easier to manage.



I also want to create something really special for the last one and I’m not sure I’m up to the task. He was so much more creative than me; so much funnier. I can never come up with what he would have done, but I don’t want to fail at my best attempt. If I leave that spot blank, I can’t be disappointed with what I put there. Then again, if I don’t try I’ll never know what I could have come up with.



I don’t know how or even if this blog will officially end, but I’m still planning on blogging in a slightly different, less Eric-centric forum. I hope you’ll still follow me there and I hope it doesn’t feel too much like a betrayal.



Thanks Eric for getting me into something I really enjoy. Now if only you could show me how to make a living with it, because I’m sure you would have had some plan to do it.

#344 Siblings

My seven year old is a very high strung child. He is sensitive and quick to tears and has a very astute sense of fairness. He’s a lot like I was as a child. Yesterday all the stress of a new brother, a long plane trip that caused an early morning followed by a late night at a sporting event caught up to him and he had a meltdown. My middle child was sick and he and the baby were getting a lot of attention and my oldest accused me of liking the middle child more than him. It broke my heart a little bit because I remember thinking that way growing up.




I took my oldest away from everyone else so we could have a private talk. I held him and told him how much I love him and we talked about siblings. I told him that I know it’s hard to be the oldest, but that I also know that when he’s older he’s going to have two brothers that will be his good friends and they’ll have memories together that no one else will have. I told him I know this because of my relationship with Uncle Eric. As I was telling him this my son said, “Mommy, your eyes are sparkling.” It was because I was tearing up.



I didn’t want to cry, and even more I didn’t want to give my dramatic son another reason to cry, but I couldn’t help it. I miss that special relationship that Eric and I had. I’ll never have another one like it. It makes me really happy to know that my boys will have that kind of relationship with each other.



Eventually I got my son cheered up and later that night he taught his younger brother to read. Seriously. I watched them playing and interacting beautifully and hoped that will be one of the memories they keep forever. I know it will be one that I keep forever.

#343 Contrasts

Yesterday was such a contrast to how I felt after Eric died. Of course I am sad that my grandmother is gone. It hit me at random spots throughout the day and it is still hitting me. And yet I was able to go to the mall to walk with a friend, do the laundry, take the oldest to Tae Kwon Do, participate in the middle child’s school Seder and cheer at his tee-ball game.




I could not have done any of that the day I found out about Eric. I could barely walk, talk and eat that day. Or many of the following days.



My patience was a little shorter yesterday and I felt a little more exhausted, but it was easier to accept that life goes on.



My husband and I told each boy about Grandma separately, mostly due to time constraints in our schedules. They took it well. Both were sad, but it was interesting to see how they processed it differently. The 7 year old wanted to know how she got sick and why she couldn’t get better. The 4 year old wanted reassurance that he wasn’t going to die….ever.



I miss my Grandma and I always will, but not with the same ache I feel for Eric. Part of it is the difference in our relationships and part is the difference in the circumstances of their deaths. While I took many things from Eric’s apartment just in case I found myself needing them someday, I only want one thing from Grandma. She had a little candy bowl that was always filled with Andes Candies when I was growing up. I used to love to go and find it and have one. I want that bowl. I want to look at it and think of her and remember. And somehow that will help the pain go away.

#342 Mourning Again

I was wrong. So was the hospice nurse. Grandma was right; she didn’t have much time left. She passed away in her sleep early this morning.




There was a change yesterday. She talked and ate even less than she had been doing. She was scared. She was given medication to help relieve her anxiety and my mother stayed with her all day. I hope the final transition was gentle. I hope she is at peace. I will miss her.



This is so different from losing Eric. It still hurts, but it was her time. She knew it, and she got to say goodbye. She would not have wanted to linger without control over her bodily functions; she was embarrassed enough that she needed oxygen.



Goodbye Grandma. I love you. I hope somewhere you are with Grandpa and Eric and your sisters and everyone else that you have loved and lost. We’ll miss you, but we’ll be ok. Thank you for everything.

#341 Bumper Sticker

Yesterday I got a haircut, but that really has nothing to do with this post. On the way to the salon I saw a bumper sticker that I can’t get out of my head. I was cruising down a two lane street and right at the place where it narrows to one lane the car to the left of me sped up and cut me off. It was mildly annoying, but it happens. This put me behind a car with multiple bumper stickers. I read them all, but the only one I remember is this.




“If found on ground drag over the finish line.”



Ay.



I know what they meant, I know they love running, but still, it made me cringe.



I don’t want to be one of those people who can’t take a joke and take everything way too seriously, but this struck a chord with me. One that’s still striking. I don’t know how to turn it off.



I guess I’ll just go about my business and hope it gradually fades.

#340 I need a leash.

Spring is the season of baseball in my house. I am not a fan of professional baseball, but my husband is a die-hard Cubs fan and is trying to turn my sons into ones as well. The baseball that permeates our house, however, is Little League. For the last two years, my oldest son has played Tee-ball and I have chased the middle one around the field while desperately trying to get a glimpse of the older one playing. This year the oldest is playing machine pitch and the middle is finally getting to play Tee-ball. Both boys are loving it, but I am still chasing the middle one around the field at the other one’s games.




Why?



I thought as he got older it would be easier to go to the games with him. I thought he would listen and stay with me or possibly even be interested in watching the game. No such luck. I am so jealous of the moms whose children sit by them calmly through the entire game. My child is at the snack-bar, under the tables, on top of the tables, in the bathroom, trying to take down the American flag, climbing the back stop etc. If I don’t watch him literally every second, I don’t know where he is.



Last Sunday night we went out to dinner with friends at a local restaurant. It is a small place so theoretically it shouldn’t be hard to keep an eye on the kids. Well, it was. Once again my middle child was under the table, in the kitchen, in the bathroom and at one heart-stopping moment coming in from outside when I didn’t know he had left. He had literally been holding my hand two minutes before.



I am exhausted after these events. And I feel like a terrible mother since I can’t even keep an eye on my child.



My mother usually can trump every story I tell with a story about how terrible Eric was as a child. When I told her about my little man leaving the restaurant, she said he was just like Eric. Uh oh.



This is not the way I want them to emulate him.

#339 Can you feel the love tonight?

While I was in Savannah I of course stayed with my parents. This means we have cocktail hour nightly. It is a wonderful life. Cocktail hour comes complete with cocktail music and usually lasts several hours until someone gets hungry enough to actually notice we haven’t had dinner yet. Then we eat and go to bed. Have I mentioned what a nice way that is to spend an evening?




One of the nights I was there we started talking about Eric and music. Those of you who know him or read this blog, know that he would fixate on one song and sing it over and over and over again and again and again. And again. And he can’t sing. It could be very painful.



When my parents and Eric moved to Bangkok (I was in college) he fixated on a song from The Lion King. I was never really exposed to that one, but it’s the one my parents remember most. I can understand why since they were living in an apartment at the time. It was a very nice apartment, but his bedroom was next to theirs which was next to the family room, etc. If someone in that apartment was singing, everyone heard it.



My parents didn’t remember which song it was, but thanks to my iPhone and a Google search we figured out it was “Can You Feel the Love Tonight?”. The cocktail music runs through my dad’s computer, so first he tried to get that system to play the song. Inexplicably, it wouldn’t work. Next I tried to download a YouTube clip on my phone. It downloaded, but thanks to my parents’ slow network, wouldn’t play.



We may not have been able to hear the song, but Eric, we were feeling the love that night. I hope somewhere you are too. And that you are not singing about it.

#338 Visit to Grandma

Sorry for the silence the last couple of days, I went to visit my grandmother and didn’t have time to blog.




It was a quick, impromptu trip and just the baby and I went. This meant that the night before the trip I had to have a conversation with the older boys that was eerily similar to one I had before leaving for Las Vegas. I told the boys that Grandma was sick and I didn’t know if she was going to get better so I was going to go see her. With Eric, I just told them he was sick. It never even occurred to me he wasn’t going to get better when I had the conversation with them. I was worried about stirring up sad memories, or that the boys would get scared that another relative was dying and wonder who would be next. Eric left us over a year ago, but it’s still very fresh in all of our minds.



The boys took it very well. They told me they hoped that she got better. We talked about what a long life she has had and they were astonished at her age. We talked about how everybody dies and we hope it happens after a long, full life like Grandma’s.



That’s easy to say.



Grandma actually looked a lot better than she sounded on the phone. She is frail and lies there in bed like she can’t do anything else, but she can. She is failing somewhat, she needs oxygen and she talked about Russian sherbet when she meant Greek yogurt, but for the most part her mind is still sharp. Grandma is scared. She won’t tell anyone that, but that’s what I think. She doesn’t want to try and get out of bed for fear that she will fail. She doesn’t want to know what her limitations really are, how close to the end she might be.



How terrifying it must be to know the end is coming and not to know what awaits, if anything. In some ways it would be easier to go like Eric, not knowing what is happening, not anticipating the end of everything you know.



I don’t think Grandma is going anywhere imminently and I think she is milking the drama of the situation (she listed jewelry she wanted me to have), but the end is closer than it used to be and that is scary.



I hope Grandma finds a way to deal with her fear and that her eventual passing is easy. I hope it doesn’t happen for a while yet though.

#337 Blackout

For those of you who noticed that I again skipped a day of posting this week I say, it was not my fault!! I wasn’t sleeping or busy with the baby or out of ideas, we had a power failure. It lasted an entire day. Really.




There were huge storms in Charlotte and our power went out at about 3:00 am and didn’t come back on until about 8:00 pm. I actually had a blog written and ready to go but couldn’t get online to do it. I guess I could have gone to Starbucks or somewhere else to upload it, but I was too busy protecting my freezer full of breast milk. You moms out there will understand how important this is. Now the power is back on, the majority of the milk has been saved and I am back to blogging.



I was trying to think of power failures that Eric and I experienced together and I can’t think of one. The only really memorable one was one that happened when I was home alone. I was in late middle school or early high school and my parents were out to dinner in the city and Eric was sleeping over a friend’s house. I was by myself and all of sudden the power went out. It was not a stormy night and I could see that the power was on in the house next door and I got scared. I thought someone was trying to break in. I’ve always had an overactive imagination.



I can’t remember if I called my parents at the restaurant (no one had cell phones back then) and they told me to call Eric’s friend or if I just called, but somehow Eric’s friend’s cute older brother ended up coming over to stay with me. I was pleased with this outcome, although the older brother may not have been….



So even though Eric was not there with me during the blackout (which turned out to be a slow moving brownout, no bad guys in sight), he still provided me with a great night.



Thanks.

#336 What would you say?

My 4 year old is over the moon in love with the baby. He’s constantly touching him, hugging him, holding him or bringing him toys. It’s really sweet. Yesterday he was holding the baby and telling me that he had to be gentle because babies are fragile. He then went on to elaborate that fragile means breakable and that he didn’t want to break our baby. He didn’t want our baby to die like Uncle Eric had died. Heartbreak.




Next he told me that he was sad that Uncle Eric had died and he wished that hadn’t happened. He missed Uncle Eric. Then he asked me if Uncle Eric was going to be dead forever.



Somehow we got onto the fact that everybody dies and he got scared and told me he didn’t want to die. I told him it wouldn’t happen for a long, long time; not until he was an old, old man. (Luckily he didn’t ask me how I knew.) He still didn’t want to die. So we talked about how no one wants to die.



Then he told me again he wished he could see Uncle Eric. I asked him what he would say to Uncle Eric if he could come back. I was clearly hoping for something sweet and poignant, maybe something to lead to a longer discussion or something cute and bloggable.



He said, “I thought you were dead.”



Well, that about sums it up. That’s pretty much what we would all say if Eric came strolling back into our lives now. Not really what I was going for though….

#335 Grandma

My mother just called to tell me that my grandmother’s care givers have recommended hospice care for her.




My grandmother is 93 years old and has always been feisty and active. Up until a few years ago she was splitting her time between NY and Florida, enjoying Broadway shows, films and golf. She always had a big group of friends and played cards and Mah Jong.



She’s gradually been slowing down and a fall resulting in a broken hip and a prolonged hospital stay with pneumonia convinced her it was time to give up her apartment. She moved to Savannah to be closer to my parents and went into an assisted living facility. She quickly gained a whole new circle of friends and continued watching movies, playing cards and generally being the leader of the pack. She just has that kind of personality. She was president of her college class for all four years. She has magnetism.



She has been in and out of the hospital this past year with a multi-drug resistant pneumonia. She just got home about a week ago and seems to have lost her spirit. She won’t get dressed or go down to meals or even open her eyes sometimes.



This doesn’t seem like the woman who told my husband he’d better be able to keep me in the style to which I’d become accustomed before we got married. Or the woman who advised my actor friends to switch careers so they could actually make money. Or the woman who would ask me every time I came home from a volunteer shift at the hospital if I’d met a doctor to marry so I wouldn’t “have” to go to medical school. Or in my favorite story, the woman who told her future husband as he proposed that she had such big hands she’d just have to have a bigger ring.



I’ve seen pictures of my grandmother from that time and she was truly glamorous. Her clothes, her hair, her face, she was stunning. She still is although I could do without the track suits….



She’s 93 and lived a full life, but still this is hitting us all hard. I guess it’s good that Eric doesn’t have to go through this, but I know he’d want to be there with us. And I know she’d want him there too.

#334 Why do I have to be rational?

I have written repeatedly about my fear of running because of what happened to Eric. I know it’s not entirely rational, but it’s there nonetheless. I cringe when I see ads for local races or when I hear about friends running in them. A friend of mine recently took up running and just successfully completed her first 10K and I’m happy for her, but then again I’m not. I’m scared.




My husband wants to start running again. He has run on and off ever since I have known him. He wanted to start running last spring and I freaked out on him and he didn’t do it. I made him promise that he would see a doctor before starting a running program and he agreed. I figured this was safe, he was never going to go to the doctor, after all, he’s a man.



Instead of running, my husband started P90X, an exercise program he can do at home. He’s had great results with it, but now he wants to mix it up a little and add in some running. And he has a doctor’s appointment scheduled.



He asked me the other night if I’m going to be ok with him running if he gets permission from the doctor. I don’t know what to say because I don’t know the answer. I want him to get in shape and exercise and do it in the way he wants to, but I can’t lose him. All of a sudden running seems like riding a motorcycle without a helmet. Or train dodging.



I think I’m going to have to let him run, but I don’t think I am ever going to be completely ok with it. You can’t let fear run your life, right?

#333 Promises

As I was cradling my 5 week old (5 weeks already!!) the other night, I was talking to him. It was nothing profound, mostly a narration of our day or what I was doing. He was fussy and I was trying to calm him down. At one point he looked scared (he has the greatest facial expressions even though they’re probably all caused by gas) and I told him not to worry, that I would keep him safe. I promised.




Then I thought about Eric. I’m sure my mother promised him the same thing, verbally or not. It’s an implicit promise we all make to our children. And I know my mother did her best to keep that promise. Who could have known that a so-called healthy activity would end the way it did? How can I keep my promise when there is so much in the world that is out of my control?



I have been known to be a control freak, but you can’t control someone’s life. At 5 weeks it’s pretty easy. I control what he eats, where he goes, what he sees. But as he gets older it only gets harder. I’ll never forget when my oldest son was 3 and he called me a bitch. Thank you daycare. But that doesn’t mean that he shouldn’t have gone to daycare, it was just an unfortunate side effect of another family’s divorce.



I can’t and I shouldn’t go everywhere with my kids. They need to have experiences on their own. But all of this makes it harder to keep my promise.



Still, I will do what I can when I can and hope and pray that it’s enough.



**The afternoon after I wrote this blog I asked my 4 year old what he liked best about being a big brother. He said keeping the baby safe. I’ll take all the help I can get.

#332 Labyrinth

On Friday my 7 year old didn’t have school because of a teacher work day. He and I (and the baby) went on a long walk around our neighborhood. I love walking around our neighborhood. There are many different ways we can go and plenty of beautiful houses and landscaping to look at as we walk. Usually I go by myself, or now with the baby, but with my older son today it was nice to have some conversation as I walked.




I let my son pick our route and the way he chose to go took us by a local Baptist church. The church has a labyrinth laid out on its grounds, a place that is dedicated to introspection and discussion with God. My son knows this because we have been that way before and we have read about it. He loves to walk the labyrinth. As he walked it today he reminded me we were supposed to be talking to God. I asked him if he was and he said yes, he was asking God to look after Uncle Eric in heaven. I about melted on the spot.



I love that my son thinks about Uncle Eric, although I wish he didn’t feel the need to take care of him. I wish all he had to think about was what crazy amazing gift was coming from his uncle next. But since he can’t have that, I’m glad he thinks about his uncle in heaven. If Eric acts up there anything like he does down here God probably needs help being patient with him. Maybe my son’s prayers helped with that.

#331 Project Runway

I have mentioned before that maternity leave has given me the opportunity to indulge my inner HGTV junkie. Unfortunately, there are only so many HGTV shows and I’m encountering more and more episodes that are no longer new to me. Re-runs in other words. So this morning I was looking for something else to watch as I fed the baby and so I searched the guide and found “Project Runway”. I have never watched it before, but I know it was one of Eric and Katie’s favorite shows and what inspired him to design a dress for her. So I’m watching.




I never thought it would be the kind of show that I would like, but I do like it. The designers on this episode are making clothes inspired by pieces from the Metropolitan Museum of Art. One is doing Grecian type robes, another a Spanish military piece and still another a piece inspired by a peacock from a painting. It’s actually pretty engrossing. I actually paused when I had to leave the room because I didn’t want to miss anything.



Thanks Eric, without you I would have missed this engrossing fluff. It’s way better than that movie “Dogville” you made me watch…..

#330 Crayfish

I can’t believe what a slacker I’ve been lately. One little newborn baby and all of a sudden I’m skipping days of blogging! Oh well, hopefully you’ll put up with me and keep checking for new posts.




My 7 year old brought home a book from the school library the other day about a kid who puts lots of things in his pockets. I can’t remember the title and it wasn’t really that good, but it did bring up an Eric memory. One of the things the little boy in the book sees (but thankfully doesn’t put in his pocket) is a crayfish.



I remember catching crayfish with Eric at Island Beach, the local lake where we used to swim in the summers. It was called Island Beach because, well, the beach was an island. Very creative. You had to go over a small foot bridge to get there from the parking lot. The parking lot wasn’t paved but was covered with small rocks and we’d walk mincingly over them in our bare feet to and from the car. I’m not sure why we didn’t put shoes on, but we didn’t. There was a small concession stand on the parking lot side of the bridge, and monkey bars on the beach side of the bridge. There was a lifeguard chair on the beach and a raft floating at the far edge of the roped-in swimming area and that was it. And it was wonderful. It was only about a mile from our house so we spent a lot of time there.



The area under the bridge and between the beach and the rest of the lake front were great places to catch minnows and crayfish and we caught plenty of both. Once we even brought crayfish home in a Tupperware container and tried to keep them as pets. I don’t think that lasted very long.



I had not forgotten about the beach, but I had forgotten about catching crayfish until this book. Not only did it bring back a great memory for me, but it provided an opportunity for me to share it with my son and talk about Uncle Eric. So I guess even boring books can have redeeming qualities.

#329 Shelves and Mirrors

One of my favorite Eric stories took place when he was decorating his first apartment in San Diego. He had just graduated from college, bought his first car and road-tripped across the country with a friend. (After getting a ticket on the way home from the car dealership for driving the wrong way down a one-way street)




He was determined to have an adult apartment, not a kid just out of college apartment, so he was decorating. He wanted to hang shelves. He got them and the appropriate tools and proceeded to hang said shelves. When he was done he was disappointed, he thought they were a little too high. When we asked if he had measured he said yes, but he was standing on a box when he did so. Only Eric.



When my parents visited him later the shelves were still hanging, but the brackets were upside down or backwards or something I could never really picture. He apparently did that on purpose for aesthetic reasons. Again, only Eric.



Last winter my husband and I went to Tucson where I had a medical conference. We bought a mirror framed in painted tiles and punched tin. It took us a long time to get around to hanging it (it usually does), but we finally got it up on the wall. I decided the spot and left the actual hanging to my husband. It’s way too high. And not because he’s that tall or because he was standing on a box. Even though I can’t even see the top of my head when I walk by the mirror, I don’t want him to re-hang it. It hangs right outside the door to my bedroom and makes me remember Eric and smile every time I walk by.

#328 Recovered Memories

I treasure every time a seemingly random conversation helps me remember something about Eric.




I took my four year old to a friend’s house for a play date yesterday. The baby and I stayed too, to hang out with the friend’s parents. We all had a great time. His friend’s father had just gotten an iPad, so of course we had to talk about that. I left my phone at home so of course we had to talk about that and about how dependant I have become on it. There is a breastfeeding app and well, let’s just say, yesterday was the first time I fed the baby without it and I felt totally discombobulated having to time it myself! Somewhere in all of this talk about Apple and iDevices I remembered that Eric was going to write an iPhone app. He wanted to create a program that would sync your calendar with a GPS mapping program and a traffic program to help business people get to meetings on time. He had investigated programmers and my husband and parents and I were planning on investing in him. Then he did the patent search. Someone else had patented, but not developed the idea. And that was the end of it.



Sometimes I forget how creative and into everything Eric was. There was not a topic that didn’t interest him or that he didn’t think he could improve.



Thanks to D and Z for helping me recover this memory. There are only so many and I don’t want to forget a thing.

#327 Time

If this blog had a theme other than Eric, it would be time. Time is so precious and so fleeting and so unpredictable. We never know how much we are going to get.




Time passes so quickly sometimes. It is incredible to me that my oldest child is seven and that I now have a third baby. How did that happen?? And soon my baby won’t be a baby anymore. Every moment of his babyhood seems extra precious to me in part because I know how fast this will pass and in part because I know this is my last baby.



I was originally planning on taking 2 months off from work. I can take 3 months according to FMLA, but I wasn’t going to take the whole time. My leave is all unpaid and I only got to take 6 weeks with the other boys so I thought 8 weeks would be plenty of time. I was wrong.



I have been stressing all week about whether or not to take the extra 4 weeks. On the one hand, I get to spend more time with my baby and the other boys. On the other hand I have another month of missed income and my tech has to reschedule a month’s worth of patients. Everyone whose advice I’ve asked for has told me to take the extra time. I can work forever; my son will only be a baby once.



I don’t know why it took me so long to come around, but I am taking the full 3 months. If I have learned anything from Eric’s death it’s that time is precious. I have this one opportunity to spend my time where I want to, with my family. I’d better take it; it’s not going to come by again.

#326 They're only things

During my maternity leave I have become an HGTV junkie. It doesn’t really matter what show is on, it’s pretty much always on at my house. My favorite show is “Selling New York” where they take you inside luxury Manhattan apartments. I actually have the DVR set to record that one. The others are kind of like junk romance novels. They fill the time and give me something to watch while I’m feeding or soothing the baby, but they take no effort and I don’t really care if I miss any.




Yesterday there was a show on featuring a brother and a sister who were racing each other to see who could become a homeowner first. The dynamic between the siblings was great. There was clearly a lot of competition, but there was also a lot of love and laughter. It made me think about when I was getting ready to buy my first house.



My husband and I were moving to Oklahoma where I was going to start my residency. My mom and brother and I pre-screened houses before my husband came out to look. Then we all did some more looking together. We had a great time. I love house-hunting anyway, it brings out the snoop in me (come on, you know you do it too) and it was fun to do it with Eric. In one house that hadn’t been redecorated since the 1960s he literally had us on the floor laughing with his send up of the décor. Even the realtor couldn’t resist him.



I was working at the eye institute where I would later be a resident during that time. One morning I was in the OR before meeting my mother, brother and the realtor. When I got to our meeting spot I realized that I hadn’t put my jewelry back on and I went to get it off of the ties of my scrub pants. It wasn’t there. My watch, wedding ring and engagement ring were gone. I felt sick.



Eric came back to the medical center with me and we searched through all of the OR garbage and laundry. We scoured every inch of the walkways and sidewalks. We finally recovered my watch and wedding ring at the lost and found. I never did get my engagement ring back.



The whole time as I was shaking and crying and afraid to call my husband. Eric kept telling me they were just things, it wasn’t a person. I knew he was right, but I was still really upset.



I would gladly give up all of my jewelry if I could have him back. Even the gorgeous replacement engagement ring that originally belonged to my grandmother. I wouldn’t even have to think about it. If only it were that easy.

#325 Children of the 80s

Eric and I grew up in the 80s. It was a decade of big hair, Madonna bracelets, jelly shoes, Indiana Jones and break dancing. So many really poor style choices….




It was our decade though and while I didn’t have big hair, I did wear parachute pants and hot pink oversized shirts with leggings. I had plenty of tops with shoulder pads. When I think of those times, though, I don’t think of it in style terms. It doesn’t seem outdated in my memory.



When we were in Savannah last weekend my mom and I were looking through old photos and found this one of Eric. As my husband said, it looks like he just finished watching Goonies. Welcome to the 80s.

#324 Community

I found out today that a friend’s brother died last night. My heart goes out to her and her family. Her brother had cancer and was in terrible pain at the end, so in some ways it’s a relief that his suffering has ended; but of course, my friend and the rest of her family are still hurting. And they will be for a while.




I have also recently come into contact with Gael, whose comments you may have read on the blog, who also lost her brother. She writes a blog about her brother at http://hairballgazette-california.blogspot.com you should check it out.



I don’t want anyone to face that pain, but if you have to, and some of us do, it’s nice to know there are others out there facing it with you. It’s a community I never wanted to be a part of, but a kind of community none the less. I have gotten support from a friend of mine from high school whose younger brother died 10 years before Eric did.  I want these three people and everyone else to know, that I’ll be there for you. Seriously. I have been there and sometimes you just need to talk or rage or be silent with someone. I’ll be that someone if you need it. Anytime.



It’s the least I can do.

#323 Baby Boys

There must be something in the air. In the last month two of Eric’s best friends and I have all had baby boys. My baby was the first on February 23rd, then one friend on March 7th and finally the other friend March 21st.




Eric not only loved these friends, guys he knew from college, but he loved their children and wives. He loved their extended families as well. He would have loved to get to know these new babies too. He was so excited about starting a family with Katie. It wasn’t going to happen immediately, but it was definitely planned. Eric loved kids.



It’s so sad that Eric is missing out on these new arrivals, but I’m glad his friends’ families are growing. I’m also glad they had boys. Maybe these three new little ones will each have some of Eric’s traits. Besides, both of their families already had girls….



Life goes on; sometimes that makes me sad, and sometimes it doesn’t. Today it doesn’t. Today I’m happy to be cradling my almost one month old and happy that the other little baby boys are being cradled as well. I know Eric would be so thrilled at all of this.

#322 Lawn Javelins

I have mentioned again and again in these pages about the large and occasionally loud gifts that Eric has given to my kids over the years. This time I’m going to show you. We spent most of yesterday driving home from Savannah. It takes a really long time when you are travelling with a passenger who screams when he is hungry and doesn’t stop screaming until you give in and stop and feed him. Unfortunately there is no safe way to feed him while still driving.




When we got home it was dinner time and we had two stir crazy boys. After dinner we went out to play in the backyard. For a while the boys were happy on the swings and playing basketball. Then they opened the outdoor toy chest and pulled out the lawn javelins. These are easily three feet long and luckily for me are soft and blunt tipped. They were a gift from Eric; one he never got to see them enjoy. They love them and they happily threw them to (at?) each other until it was time to come in for bath and bedtime.



I love seeing them enjoy something from Eric. I hate that he can’t see it too.

#321 Heartbreak all over again

What a weekend. We’re in Savannah, staying with my parents. We came down to bring the baby to see my grandmother, and my uncle flew down from New York as well. We’re having a good time and my grandmother is as in love with the baby as the rest of us, but there is a sadness underpinning it all.




It’s not an unspoken sadness either. Both older boys have been full of questions about Eric. My oldest asked my mother if Eric had a gravestone and so she had to go through the explanation of cremation with him again. Not an easy thing to explain to a 7 year old. My 4 year old confirmed at dinner last night that I didn’t want him to die. When asked why he would ask that he said he didn’t want to die like Uncle Eric.



Later last night after the boys were in bed and the adults had had dinner my mom took me into her closet to show me a new pair of shoes. We ended up on the floor crying. She has a large picture of Eric that was displayed at his memorial service in there and she talks to him everyday. I just couldn’t stop staring at it. Sometimes it all just hits me again, the rawness of the loss, the amazement that he is really and truly gone for good. The sadness that the baby will never know him.



My 4 year old has to do everything my 7 year old does, right down to repeating the same words and phrases. For example this morning the 7 year old took the baby’s hand and waved it at himself and said “Hi” in a high pitched voice that was supposed to be the baby. Then the 4 year old did the same thing with the same words and gestures and intonations. It doesn’t matter if the 4 year old understands what the 7 year old is doing or not, he does it anyway.



I’m sure that someday the baby will be copying his older brothers in the same way. It’s possible that the older boys will be talking about missing Uncle Eric and the little one will say that he misses Uncle Eric too. And I know that will break my heart all over again.

#320 Newborn Nephews

We are leaving tonight to drive to Savannah to bring the baby (and the other kids) to see my parents and my grandmother. The last time we brought a newborn to see my grandmother Eric was with us.




My grandmother broke her hip the night before my oldest was born and therefore couldn’t come to see him. At 3 weeks of age he flew with us from Oklahoma to Florida to go see her. Eric came on that trip. Together we walked the streets of West Palm Beach feeling way underdressed and marveling at the prices in the high end boutiques. We ate at a restaurant by the beach and Eric wanted to bring the baby to the beach and I wouldn’t let him. I didn’t want my soft newborn’s skin marred by the sand. I would let him now. I would let him do almost anything. What’s the point of limiting such harmless experiences? What was I protecting him from? We need to gather all the experiences we can in this short life. I hate that I denied Eric the pleasure of introducing his nephew to the beach.



I’m sure this was not a big deal in Eric’s life. It gave him more ammunition to make fun of me with, and he used it well. And later, when the same nephew was about 18 months old, the only person he would walk in the sand with was Eric.



Had I known what little time he had left I would have made sure we saw him more, I wouldn’t have put off visiting him the way I did.



Still, he made an impression. Yesterday, out of the blue, my oldest told me that he missed Uncle Eric. He said nothing in particular made him think of Eric, but that Eric was the best uncle in the world. I told him that I think of Eric all the time too, and I agreed, there was no other uncle quite like Eric. No other brother either.

#319 Scrawny

I took the baby to the doctor yesterday. I was concerned that he wasn’t gaining enough weight. Born at 7 pounds and 3 ounces, he is the smallest of my kids. Before we left the hospital he had lost about 10 percent of his body weight which is borderline for needing supplemental formula in addition to breast milk. I thought this was pretty ironic as he took to breast feeding better than the other boys did. My oldest also lost a lot of weight in the hospital, so I wasn’t too worried.




We took him to the pediatrician the day after we brought him home and 4 days after that for weigh-ins and he was gaining appropriately so we didn’t have to supplement and I stopped worrying about it. But I did continue to notice his scrawny little chicken arms and legs.



We have a friend who happens to be our former nanny and a professional photographer; and she came and took pictures for us last weekend. She kept commenting on how little the baby was, and she shoots newborns fairly frequently. At one point I pulled out a picture of my oldest son from before he left the hospital and he had arm rolls. I started to get concerned.



The next day my husband and I decided to weigh the peanut on the food scale. We put a platter on the scale, a blanket over it so it wouldn’t be so cold and put the baby on that. I wish I had a picture but it was too precarious and he wasn’t wearing a diaper which meant we were all on pee alert, so photography didn’t happen. The food scale said he was almost 7 pounds. Not even back to birth weight and 3 weeks old!!



So yesterday I called the pediatrician and brought him in to be weighed. It turns out you shouldn’t weigh a newborn on a food scale. On the doctor’s scale he was 7 pounds, 5 ounces and they were happy with that. I was relieved.



Later I talked to my mom and told her about all of this. She told me that Eric had scrawny chicken legs as a baby; she used to notice it every time she changed his diaper.



I should have known.

#318 25,000 Mornings

25,000 mornings. According to a commercial I saw for the state of Michigan this morning, that’s how many mornings the average American can expect to have. That works out to about 68 years. Eric had fewer than half of that amount.




The point of the commercial was to make sure that you spend some of your mornings doing something other than sitting in traffic on your way to work. I’m sure the Michigan tourist board would like you to be watching the sunrise or sleeping through it somewhere in Michigan.



I’ve written a lot over the past year about making sure I get the most out of the time I have and this just continues that theme. Not every morning can be about beauty and serenity though.



This morning was crazy. I was up at 4:30 to feed the baby and then made the older boys breakfast making sure to leave the cups of milk in the refrigerator since they wouldn’t be eating it until about 6:30. By the time they were eating it I was back asleep (thank you to my wonderful husband who got them up and through breakfast and got the oldest onto the school bus) until the next feeding at 7:30. After that I pumped, I won’t go into details but I’m trying to build up a supply of milk for when I go back to work, and got dressed so I could take the 4 year old to school. I came back home and had breakfast and then a good friend stopped by to meet the baby.



It was a hectic, non-stop kind of morning and there were times when I wondered how I’m going to keep this up. But I am so lucky. I have three beautiful boys. I have a husband who helps immensely. I have good friends.



Even though I’m exhausted and yes, I’d rather be sleeping through the night instead of in 2-3 hour chunks, I’d count this morning as a good one. I don’t regret using one of my 25,000 this way.

#317 March Madness

Every year my husband runs a March Madness NCAA basketball pool. This was never a big deal in my house growing up; in fact you could say I was barely aware of the tournament until I started dating my husband. The first year I played his, I won. That was the last time I ever won. I think it helped that I knew absolutely nothing about the teams. I’m still not a basketball fan, but I know enough about the teams through my husband to throw off my picks.




My husband has a core group of home town and college friends who play every year, but all who are interested are always welcome. After we got married, my father and Eric started playing in the pool. My father has a little knowledge of college basketball, enough to make a serious attempt at his bracket. I know he enjoys watching some of the games and seeing how it all shakes out.



Eric had absolutely no interest in college basketball, and yet he still entered the pool. I think he did it just to participate. He clearly had no interest in winning. He was the comic relief in the pool and it got to the point where every year people would wait to see what method he would use to make his picks. The first year he did one side of the bracket alphabetically, and the other side reverse-alphabetically. Another year he had Florida Atlantic (who was the play-in team) winning the whole thing. One thing was sure, Eric’s picks would make you laugh—especially if he actually beat you as he did with my husband a couple of years ago.



This year my oldest son is old enough to understand what’s going on. We’re not going to let him enter the official pool, but we’re going to have a family pool among my husband, myself and the two older boys. The winner will get to pick the restaurant for a family dinner out. While my oldest may understand the tournament, he knows nothing about basketball. And the 4 year old is too young to truly understand, but too old to leave out of the game. We should have some humorous picks this year. I’m sure they won’t be Eric quality funny, but they’ll remind me of him just the same.

#316 Elephant Lamp

It seems like half of the blogs I write are about things that Eric has given me. I’m lucky to have had such a generous brother, and also lucky that I still have so many things around to remind me of him.




Several years ago, when we were still living in Oklahoma, Eric gave me a lamp with an elephant base. I collect elephants, so this was a pretty cool gift. It was a little glitzy for me, but I put it on my bedside table anyway. I don’t think I ever used it though. I don’t read in bed. I read, a lot, but on the couch and then I go to bed.



When we moved to North Carolina the lamp came and resumed its place on my nightstand. It continued its neglected life there.



Our house is configured with a downstairs master bedroom and 2 more huge bedrooms upstairs. I don’t want to be running up the stairs several times a night to feed a newborn, so he is living in our room for the time being. We have a co-sleeper attached to my side of the bed, a changing table, and multiple bins and baskets full of various baby stuff. The first time I tried to change the baby’s diaper in the middle of the night I realized it was too dark to see what I was trying to clean. I didn’t want to wake my husband by turning on the room light, so I turned on the bathroom light and used the trickle that made it from there to the changing table. The next day we moved the elephant lamp from my nightstand to my husband’s dresser which is next to the changing table. It’s perfect.



Thanks, Eric

#315 Self Soothing

When I was little I used to suck the three middle fingers on my left hand and play with my ear lobe with my right hand. My parents called it the operator position. Of course my kids will never understand why they called it that since they will have no idea what a phone operator was…




When my oldest was born he would never take a pacifier. Pretty early on he found the first two fingers of his left hand and while he was sucking those he would twirl his hair with his right hand. It had an amazing similarity to “the operator position” and just shows how powerful genetics can be. He has mostly grown out of doing this, but I’d bet that sometimes, late at night, those fingers find a way to his mouth.



My middle son was a pacifier baby and oh how I loved it. He went everywhere with a pacifier clipped to his clothes and all it took to soothe him was to place it in his mouth. It was also fairly easy to break him of the habit. You can take away a pacifier; it’s harder to take away fingers.



I would like my youngest son to be a pacifier baby. I am pushing it every chance I get. Sometimes he seems to like it and other times he doesn’t, but in all fairness he’s two weeks old. He doesn’t know what he wants. He does seem to trying really hard to be a thumb sucker though. Several times I’ve caught him either sucking on it or trying to get it into his mouth. Unfortunately his coordination stinks and he loses it about as soon as he finds it, but if he persists, he’ll get better.



Eric was a thumb sucker. While sucking his thumb he would hook his first finger around his nose and rub. He rubbed it so much he created a divot that my mom was afraid would become permanent, or at the very least infected. I know she tried band aids and everything else short of a straight jacket to get him to leave his nose alone. I can’t remember if she finally cured him of it or if he just grew out of thumb sucking, but there was no lasting damage done.



I’d be ok if this child sucks his thumb. I can live without the nose divot though.

#314 Mixed Feelings

There are so many manifestations of loss. There is major loss, like that of Eric, which in some ways I will never recover from. Luckily, these are usually few in number.




Life, however, is full of minor losses. I am a little sad that I am not pregnant anymore and that I never will be again. I don’t miss the discomfort or the frequent urination or the waddling, but I miss feeling life move inside me and the anticipation of it all. However, I love holding my baby in my arms, and I don’t regret our decision not to have any more children. I don’t want to be pregnant again, I’m just a little sad that that phase of my life is over.



I found out recently that one of my best friends is moving out of the state. And not just to the next state over either. This is another loss I’m dealing with. Realistically, we live close to three hours apart now even though we’re in the same state, and we only see each other 3 or 4 times a year at best, but I like knowing she is here and that I can see her. Now we’ll need to fly to have our spa days and there won’t be any direct flights either. I’m happy for her because this is a good thing for her and her family, but it makes me sad. (Don’t feel bad if you’re reading T, you know I’ll always love you and your family and you know this is the right thing to do.)



I know the hormonal storm is also playing a big role in my sadness today. It’s hard to figure out if I’m appropriately sad or magnifying things. I’m not depressed, I don’t need an intervention, I’m just sad.



Time to stop focusing on the losses and move on to the gains. My oldest son is going to audition to play the piano for a volunteer appreciation breakfast at his school. It amazes me that he has the capability, but he’s good and I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t make it. My middle son had school pictures this week and insisted on wearing a blue button down shirt so he would look “handsome”. He never cared before. My littlest son slept five and a half hours between feedings last night and even though I had to hold him to make it happen, I’m grateful for the sleep. We’re all making gains and moving on even though it means we’re leaving other things behind.



I guess it’s just a mixed feelings kind of day.

#313 Helping

I got this comment on yesterday’s blog.




Liz,

I just found your blog and I find it profound. I, too, lost my brother to a catastrophic brain bleed, suddenly and without warning. I, too, write about him in my blog.

I lost Dan almost exactly one year after you lost Eric. Your writing gives me hope.

Thank you.

Gael



Wow.



Gael, I am so sorry for your loss. I hate that it happened. I know what you are going through and I hope you have the support and strength you need. I’m glad that this blog is helping you.



I started this blog as a way to get my feelings out and try to process and maybe heal. I love the thought that watching my process can help others. So many of you have urged me to create a book from this blog and comments like this really make me think there would be some value there. I guess I need to start working on that proposal.



Gael, I’d love to read your blog, if you read this I hope you’ll leave me the address.

#312 Writer's Block

It’s 7:30 pm and I just realized I haven’t written a blog today. It’s amazing how quickly the days are passing and how little I’m getting done. I’m lucky if I get in a shower (I did today!). Part of that is because new babies just take up a lot of time. Part of that is I’m still moving slower as I recover from the c-section. Part of that is never wanting to put the baby down. I know how quickly this stage passes and it’s never going to happen for me again. I’m cherishing every moment—well, almost every moment, I still don’t like waking up every 2-3 hours for overnight feeds and that’s only if he falls asleep in between….




Still, you’d think I could find time to write a blog. After all, the little peanut is snoozing on me as I write this. I think the real issue is I haven’t been able to come up with a topic for today’s blog. I was hoping that if I just started typing something would come to me. Sometimes that works. Today, no such luck.



Well, I’m sure even Eric experienced writer’s block sometimes, be it with his science fiction novel or the book of poetry he wrote for Katie. I’ll try again tomorrow.

#311 Thank You Notes

Lots of people send gifts for a new baby. This is wonderful and I always enjoy opening the packages and seeing the adorable tiny things inside. Less wonderful is writing all of the thank you notes. I don’t necessarily enjoy the process, but I think it’s really important. I know the people who get the thank you notes will appreciate them, and I want them to know how much it means that they thought of us.




I try to make each thank you note personalized and different. Not only is it boring for me to write the same note over and over again, but it’s more fun to get a thank you note that contains real information than a generic “Thank you for the gift”.



The first time I ever remember writing thank you notes was after my Bat Mitzvah. We had a huge party with lots of guests which meant lots of gifts and therefore lots of thank you notes. My mother asked me to write a certain number of notes everyday and I didn’t want to write any. I remember getting in trouble because I skipped out on my required notes for the day and went to a friend’s house instead. At the time, I didn’t understand the importance that my mom placed on the notes. I do now.



It seems that people are starting to teach kids to write thank you notes earlier now. When my sons go to birthday parties we get thank you notes from their friends. In turn, we also send them out after their birthday parties. Most kids’ party invitations now come with fill in the blank thank you notes. It’s not very personalized, but easy for kids and it teaches them the habit early.



One year, either for his birthday or Chanukah, Eric got my oldest son personalized stationery; an odd gift for a child who couldn’t read or write at the time. We made fun of Eric for the choice, but the stationery is really beautiful. I had forgotten all about it until I was looking for my stationery and opened the box. I think his is nicer than mine. After his next birthday his friends are going to get some really nice thank you notes. But I think we’ll save at least one as a reminder of Uncle Eric.

#310 Baby Rolls

My mother tells a story of how unique Eric was right from the very start. When he was born he was in the newborn nursery and apparently rolled over. I’m suspicious that one nurse turned him over and then went off shift or something so no one else knew and everyone else just thought he turned over. My mother insists he actually rolled, and if he did, that is truly remarkable. I can remember urging my oldest to turn over and even getting on the floor to demonstrate it and he would just never do it. And that was at a few months of age, rolling as a newborn is impressive.




I put Drew down for tummy time for the first time today, and no he didn’t roll over. But he came close! He hated tummy time which wasn’t really surprising considering all of my kids have hated it. He fussed and screamed and lifted his head and his bottom and one leg went higher than the other and he came really close to flipping onto his back. I left him there as long as I could stand the screaming but eventually he tired out and I picked him up and calmed him down. I’m not expecting him to roll anytime soon, but we’ll try tummy time again and see what happens. Knowing my kids, he won’t come close again until he’s one.

#309 Holey Scarf

One year when Eric was living in London he sent me gorgeous white cashmere scarf for Chanukah. I love this scarf. It is stylish, goes with everything, and is really soft and warm. Somewhere along the way it developed a hole, but I’ve been wearing it anyway, it’s a small hole and really not visible unless you’re looking for it.




I haven’t worn the scarf all winter; I haven’t worn any scarf all winter. I’ve barely worn a winter coat. I get hot when I’m pregnant. Now that I am no longer pregnant, even our pretty moderate weather is feeling chilly to me. I was cold inside the house today, so I pulled out the scarf. There are now multiple holes. Most are teeny tiny, but some are not. There are multiple other places where you can see the fabric thinning and holes beginning to start. It looks a little bit like Swiss cheese. I have no idea why these holes are occurring, but I probably can’t wear the scarf out in public anymore.



I’m not getting any more gifts from Eric so I hate that one that I have is deteriorating. I’m still wearing it as I type this, but I’m going to have to get a new one for going outside. Next year.