First Things

I used to imagine being a mom, sometime when I was in my twenties. I imagined being good at it, I imagined being happy and I imagined it happening earlier than it did. By the time I met the man of my dreams- or really, the man beyond anything I'd ever dreamed- I'd stopped imagining or dreaming of having a child. I'd longed and longed to get married, to meet my soulmate, but I believed that if and when it happened, it would happen too late for me to have a child. So, as a matter of some kind of self-preservation I began believing I'd never have a child. And I became okay with that.

But life is funny and wonderful and frightening and daring, and now, ecstatically married for two years, I am a mom. And it's beyond anything I ever imagined.

Instead of writing about my son (which I originally set out to do), I want to talk about the man for whom he was named: My brother, Eric Schreiber.

Eric was a singular young man whose biggest dream in life was to serve in the Marine Corps. He was my younger brother. My only brother, who has been missed every single day since he left. He died in the service of his country. He died with honor and integrity, however far too early. He was twenty years old and died doing what he loved. Not many twenty year-olds know what they want in life or even go after it. Eric did- both.

Eric had an outrageous sense of humor. He looked after our youngest sister, always being kind to her throughout high school- long after the teasing and "picking on" had ended in elementary school. Eric and she were great friends. Eric was kind, with a wonderfully soft heart for his family and friends. His favorite family pet was Annie- a golden retriever who had at sometime before she came to us been abused. I don't have to tell you how that "fuzzy dog" (his words for her) missed him after he died. One of Eric's favorite movies was "My Girl." Another was "Pure Country." But of course he also loved "Platoon" and "Full Metal Jacket" and movies with Chuck Norris and Arnold Schwarzenegger.

When my sisters each found out they were having sons, I'd hoped that someone would name one of my nephews Eric. As it turned out, the name was somehow reserved for my son. It was fitting in so many ways: First, traditionally, as I chose to convert to Judaism, to be able to carry on Eric's name. Secondly, as the oldest sister, having that honor to carry on his name. I wanted so much to honor Eric's memory in that way, and now I am able. Not that it's been without tears.

On the night I found out I was pregnant, I cried, knowing I couldn't share the moment with my brother like I could with my sisters. On the day I found out Michael and I were having a boy, I cried, knowing the choice I'd made to name this boy Eric and the sad circumstances that influenced my choice. On the morning of our son's bris, I cried (all morning), knowing that my brother would be talked about during the naming ceremony. And at every significant event and on random days during the last thirteen years, I cry. Sometimes, I'm sad or angry or tense and I'll have no idea why until the tears start and the anguish is more than I can bear.

I love hearing stories about Eric- learning things about him I didn't know. Today, I was forwarded an email by way of my mom from one of the men Eric was in the marines with. I'll end this post here with part of that email. It says so much about my brother, and so much about who I hope my son will become.

Hi there,Sorry it has taken me so long to get back to you. It appears California is now completely engulfed in flames, kidding of course but it has certainly kept us on our toes out here.It was really cool to hear from you. I think about your brother often. I was fortunate enough to be stationed in Okinawa w/ Rick and my brother, Scott. Needless to say we had some very good times together. He was such a good person & so much fun to hang around. I remember him being the voice of reason on many occasion when trouble was lurking. He was always so happy & easy going. He was a hard person not to like and his memory will always be with me.

I've posted the picture sent along with the email. It's not the clearest, but it was a gift to receive a picture of Eric that I never knew existed.