Like the rest of the country, I'm sure, the topic over coffee every morning at work as we've started our day these last 4 days has been about the heartless bombing at The Boston Marathon. The televisions in the breakroom and the patient waiting area have been tuned in to CNN and the remotes have not moved from their respective locations since Sunday afternoon.
This morning the staff was all aflutter over the news that one of the two most wanted had been killed and the second was being hunted. There were no real mixed emotions among us; all were thrilled that progress was being made and, quite honestly, that one had met with death and the other would more than likely follow suit. The consensus was "YES!", "shoot 'em in the street!", "rip their limbs from their bodies!".
I made my way back to my work station when Eric passed by. He said to me, "Have you heard all the news, the updates?" I said, " I have and I'm glad they're closing in on this." Eric said, "I feel sorry for their mother."
I looked him dead in the eye and said, "What did you say?" He said, "Can you imagine how their mom must feel? I'm sure she didn't raise them to be killers, terrorists. And now she's left to deal with the aftermath of what they've done. And she has to face her family and friends. I feel bad for her."
I don't know Eric very well but this is what I know for sure:
1) Every morning, he comes over and pauses long enough to give me a genuine "good morning";
2) Every monring, he says "let's have a good day";
3) Every Monday morning, he approaches me, places his freezing cold hand on my shoulder and says "happy Monday";
4) Every Friday morning, he says "happy Friday";
5) Eric eats pizza for lunch at least once every week; always 3 slices, 3 very large slices;
6) I am jealous of the fact that Eric can eat pizza every week and it doesn't go to his hips...or his waist...or his tricep area...
7) Eric does not own a car but, instead, uses Metro or walks to where ever he wants to go;
8) Eric loves my baking. He is disappointed when he comes in on a Monday and there are no treats. He tells me so;
9) Eric will be sad when my assignment here is over and I'm no longer baking for my new friends;
10) I will miss Eric when it it's time for me to leave.
I don't know Eric's Mama, either. But if I ever have the opportunity to chat with her, I'm going to tell her what a sweet son she has.