elise’s boys

The school year has now started.

For little Andy’s “Last Supper of Summer” he requested not Chuckey Cheese… Not Hamburgers… Not ice cream… Nope.. Not Elise’s kid… He wanted Vietnamese and the presence of his three weird uncles.

We headed downtown to the ethno / bohemian strip of downtown, (South Grand), where you can get such things.

It’s a small, yet outrageously successful restaurant called Pho Grand. I ate cilantro and chillies till my eyes watered.

Boychick was ecstatic. We quizzed him about his expectations for the third grade.

Elise would later lay a heavy, HEAVY honor, (and responsibility) at our feet.

She asked us if we would become Andrew’s god parents.

At age 8, it seems late in the game to be assigning these titles – but I didn’t ask why they hadn’t found anyone before when Andrew was born.

We were choking for words when Elise said, “don’t tell me now… think about it.”

What pursued that evening was a teary conversation between the three of us.

We rode a wave of flattery, honor, apprehension and fear that night.

Kevin cooly theorized: “What IF something happened to Elise and Andy? We’re not talking about getting a dog here.. Do you think we could handle that kind of responsibility? Even in the abstract because he has both sets of grandparents still living.”

Is anyone ever “ready” for that kind of responsibility? I’d argue “no” – but you assume what you have to when the need arises.

My heart broke imagining if something ever did happen and my eyes glossed over again. For if it did, that little human would contain the last earthly traces of one of the most precious people in my life. He would be protected and loved as if he was our own.

The concept of sacrifice never comes up when you’re wrestling with concepts like this.

I’m starting to choke up again,… I am NOT however, blogging.