"I love you, Eli"

One evening at a middle school band concert there was a quiet moment while everyone was on stage, waiting for the conductor. On an impulse I called out in the silence, “I love you, Eli”. There were a few chuckles in the audience and Eli was a little embarrassed as the other band members turned to stare at him. The opportunity for a repeat came up again at other concerts and performances, and without really intending for it to happen, it became a tradition. I started calling it to him from the front door just as he’d climb into his car to be off with friends, and eventually his friends got in the habit of finding me when they headed out, “We’re leaving now” as a hint that I not forget the traditional farewell they had come to love. Although they teased Eli a bit, I think they envied that simple show of affection and regard. Teenagers put on a tough exterior, wanting to show their independence, but they really are very fragile, needing lots of reassurance and support through those tough teenage years.

For some reason, that tradition never caught on with my other children, there were other tender things that we shared, this tradition was Eli’s alone. It continued all through high school and even still, though he is grown and gone, when I get a chance I still call to him, loud enough for the whole world to hear, “I love you, Eli!”