Reflections (Morn of Eric’s Graduation Day)

That’s Eric and his older sister on the right – Eric was 1 and Rachel was 3 years old at the time.  Picture warms my heart.  (Surreal. I stare at the picture.  Seems like yesterday. Where did the time go?)

More than 15 years after this picture is taken, I’m watching the two of them giggling watching a YouTube video.  (There is something about two siblings being so close. I’m MOVED to see it and feel it – Blood loving blood.)

Rachel later eggs me on to post some lighter moments of Eric’s early childhood.  Here we go:

Eric LOVED his hamster.  And wouldn’t dream of parting with it.  We had to fly the hamster (“Ginger”) in a cage from Miami to New York. (I grumbled about the insanity of it all…and the expense of dragging a RAT across the country.  Mom insisted.  Eric cried.  I lost.  Again.  Ginger road side-saddle in Coach on American Airlines under his seat.  Eric peaking in occasionally to make sure she was ok.)

Eric couldn’t pronounce his “gr’s” – he could get out the “g’s”, the “ga” but no “grrrrrr’s”– he struggled with “grape”…”ground”…”green.”  (We used to practice each night before he’d go to bed.  Grape.  Green.  Ground.  Grape.  Green.  Ground. Grape. Grape. Grape.  He hated it.  He stumbled.  He cried.  Do over. Grape. Green. Ground.  Yet, I wouldn’t have my son leaving the house pronouncing “grape” as “gape” like Elmer Fudd.  Today, there’s no sign of a speech impediment.  And I see no evidence of ‘gape’ under high stress situations in arguments with his Dad.)

Eric was a Mama’s boy. (See post: Who are you calling a Mama’s Boy?). Eric’s Mama drove him to school every single day of his school life through the 11th grade.  I drove him 2x in all those years. (I could sense the disquiet when I drove.  Mom drives him to school.  He didn’t like it.  Today, his Mama hands him the keys to her car – – except during a short probationary period after he backed the car into a rock wall. Mama’s response: Accidents happen.  Dad, on the other hand, is left explaining the reasons behind the night time teeth grinding to his dentist.)

Eric slept with his yellow Blankie and his Bunnie until he was eight.  He used to rub his Blankie between his fingers to calm himself.  (At about 6 years old, I began to worry about this Blankie and Bunnie thing. Thank goodness he grew out of this.  Today, his iPhone is tethered to his hand and his fingers tap away – – 11 years later, the iPhone filling the role of his Blankie and Bunnie.)

Eric is a gentle soul.  (Mama’s genes).  When his Mother washed a salamander down the shower drain, he was distraught – and called his Mother a “lizard killer.”  Eric refuses to kill any living thing including a spider.  So, when Ginger died, Mama and Eric insisted that I bury the hamster. (Ginger lived an unusually long life…of course she did. It was a blustery, bone chilling January day. I grabbed a shovel from the garage.  I drove my foot down on top of the shovel – the shovel hit the frozen earth – and rattled my teeth and vibrated up and down my right foot and shin.  Couldn’t recall exactly the cuss words that came out – – and oh, they came out. I glanced over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.  And when the coast was clear – I heaved the dead varmint over the fence into the neighbor’s yard.  That’s as formal as it got for me and Ginger.  Rest in Peace Ginger.)

Eric is kind and good hearted.  When we asked Eric what he would like for a graduation present, Eric suggested that we take a family vacation because he felt “it would be great to spend time with the entire family before he left for college.”  (When we asked Rachel the same question two years ago, Rachel snapped back without pause or hesitation: “a car and a nice watch would be nice.”  Pretty much sums him (and you) up, doesn’t it Rachel?  Nice ask though…go big and negotiate down – LIKE IT.  )

More to come on Eric’s Graduation Day later…I hope that I’m able to stay composed…

Related Posts:

1. Like Father, Like Son? Not!
2. Guest Post: Eric to Mom
3. Wednesday for Women: Who are you calling a Mama’s Boy?
4. Tic, Tic, Tic…6 months to Empty Nest
5. He’d grown up just like me. My boy was just like me…
6. The Believer of Convenience.
7. Week in Review: Down but not out…
8. Ratio of Criticisms to Compliments is woefully imbalanced…