December 8th

The Other Side

Eric's Cabin

December 8th has become a profoundly significant and confusing date for our family. It is significant because it is the date that our son Eric died in an accident in New Zealand in 1999. It is confusing because we don't know how to feel about the commemoration of his loss. We commemorate birthdays, wedding anniversaries, the comimg of each new year, but commemorating the day of a loved one's death does not hold the celebration of a joyous event. Instead, this day brings a vivid memory of the pain of Eric's loss. But it also brings us the hope of something more. A hope that we believe was somehow sent to us from Eric... from the other side. Here is the story for those who might wish to read it.

One of my great joys has been in being a dad. Our children, Eric, Ryan and Katie loved bedtime stories and by the time Kate came along my story telling skills had improved to the point where I actually developed a continuing story line. It was called "The Other Side".

The setting was in our backyard on Country Way and it always began the same way. Kate had come upon a tarnished silver toy horn in her play and had discovered it held mysterious powers. She would walk down the path with her treasure, through the woods to the giant pine tree where the boys had built one of their many cabins and treehouses. Here she climbed down into the cool shade of the old cellar hole under the cabin. When she blew the horn, (which I always imitated with a "ta-ta-da" sound…a favorite and often imitated part.), an invisible door would open in the sheer ledge rockface and she would enter into The Other Side for countless adventures with castles, kings and queens, friendly giants, little people and talking animals. And at the end of each story, "Princess" Katie would come back through the door and up the path to the security of her loving home. Mom would always ask, "Katie, what have you been up to?" and Katie would always smile and say, "Oh, nothing…". Kate loved these stories and often at bedtime, the boys would lay on the floor and listen in.

December 8, 2001. Two years had passed since the day we can never forget. I stayed home from work and awoke before first light. In bed, listening to the sounds of the sleeping house, I simply prayed, "Son, let me know today that you're ok." I don't remember much about the day except that we spent it sitting with our books and our music and with each other. Friends and family called or briefly stopped by. A sad and quiet day.

It was around 5:00 PM when one of the boy's childhood friends, walked through the door. Dan had been away at college so we did not expect to see him. He had come home for something he had to do and had, that day, inadvertantly come upon a photograph which he had no recollection of having taken some ten years before. He and the boys were 10 or 11 at the time and had been playing in the woods. It was a picture of Eric and I thanked him for it as he went out the door and back to school. It wasn't until later that evening when I looked closely at the picture that I realized that my prayer had been answered.

I am a pragmatist by nature. My college degrees are in sciences and I look at the world the way many with my background do. We attempt to understand the Universe and mentally assign a probability to unexplained phenomena. So my reaction was typical. I asked myself;
"What is the probability that this young man, whom we had not seen in over a year, would walk into our home on December 8th and present me with a photograph, lost and forgotten for a decade, of Eric, smiling at me from the precise location of the bedtime storyline doorway to "The Other Side"?"

Our inescapable conclusion was, and is, that this was not a random event. The odds are too huge.

So thank you Eric, for helping us along the path, for opening our eyes to the many gifts, there for each of us if we are awake to receive them… and for the smile.

Love you, son.