Little John.

I've definitely been neglecting ye olde blog lately. I took a bit of time this evening to dump pictures off my camera and onto my computer and came across these gems. I think they're a great example of pictures that aren't anywhere near technically perfect (the lighting and color are terrible) but that are SO perfect in terms of telling a story.





Eliot loves, loves, LOVES his Pa Pa Heicher. We spend many a Sunday morning at their house and Eliot follows Pa Pa around as he gets ready for church. He shaves with him, brushes his teeth with him; they spit into the sink at the same time together. You get the picture. My mom calls Eliot "Little John" because he looks so much like him, with the distinctive Heicher eyebrows and all, but it's an appropriate name in terms of behavior as well. He's basically a mini-me for Eli's dad.

Let's just hope he doesn't inherit Pa Pa's penchant for the Three Stooges and all related forms of humor. Because as the saying goes around the Heicher household, "I don't go in for that, Merle."

Scary movie selections.

This evening Eliot reached for a videotape and wanted to put it in the VCR. I looked at his choice--Halloween II--and shook my head. "Don't think so, buddy." For now he's going to have to stick with Momma's collection rather than choosing from Daddy's favorites, which include mostly zombies, aliens, and other sinister creatures.

We went with The Sound of Music instead. I've been waiting awhile to introduce him to Julie Andrews, but I thought it was time. I popped in the tape, which hadn't been rewound, and we found ourselves right in the middle of "Do-Re- Mi." And he was captivated! Score! That sequence features several of his "favorite things" (hehe) including a horse, a train, other children, and singing and dancing. What could be more fun? (Well, except maybe Disney's Cars, which he's been hooked on for awhile now. Gaa...)

I only fell in love with The Sound of Music during my video store clerking days. I quickly realized that my job there was too hectic and busy to allow for any actual movie watching, but if I put on musicals to play, I could at least get caught up in the singing from time to time. I took to showing familiar favorites from my childhood, like The Sound of Music and Annie, to make the nights go faster. As I gained in seniority there, it was my choice on the overhead TV's more often than not, and the other clerks groaned when I'd subject them to The Sound of Music over and over. "Seriously, do we have to watch that AGAIN?" they'd complain. "Yes. Yes, you do. Because I said so." Turns out, this was great training for parenthood.

So today, The Sound of Music; tomorrow, Sister Act II! :)

I sat down with Molly's mom yesterday and we talked. I could see her in Bobbi's face, so plainly that I wondered why I'd never noticed how much Molly looked like her mother.

Bobbi talked about the months and days leading up to Molly's death. I listened as she pieced together parts of Molly's story that I didn't know. Because we had started growing apart years ago. Because I lived four hours away. Because she could no longer look me in the eyes or call me on the phone. Because of my own guilt, my feelings that my own happiness was too much to ask her to bear.

I have pondered the "what if's" for so long. What if I had tried to stay closer to Molly? What if I had called her that night? What if she had called me? Is there anything I could have done or said that would have made any difference?

And I don't know. I'll never know. But now I know what I would have said to her, what I would still say if I could talk to her one last time.

I would say,
"Molly, I understand.
You are not a burden.
You are magical.
I will always love you."

Note to self.

When spending the weekend with a bald man, bring your own shampoo.

On bravery.

I'm driving to Chicago this afternoon, and I expect to hit the city right around rush hour. This scares the hell out of me, but also excites me. I'm feeling alive in a way I haven't in a very long time...possibly ever. I'm just sad it took me this long to wake up from that coma.