15-29

Favorite numbers can trigger memories and feeling. My favorite number has long been 15. Bart Starr, my hero. Aaron had more than one favorite number. 15 and 29. Those were his football jersey numbers. Actually 29 was his number one favorite. That was his first youth football number and he wore it as often as it was available from 4th grade through 8th. Once in high school, he didn't have a pick. As a Sophomore who dressed for every varsity game, he was assigned a number-you don't pick when you're a high school rookie. The number 15 wasn't claimed. They gave it to Aaron. He was glad to have a jersey. I liked seeing him wearing the number of my childhood hero. Aaron used the combination of numbers for his cell phone 772-1529, screen name meyerman1529 (I think), and probably more than one password.

In 1998 we started taking annual family spring-break trips to Florida. Cathy, well organized and prepared, had all of the bags ready for her three boys: Aaron, Patrick, and me. The young boys packed a travel bag each with some entertainment devices and books, or in Aaron's case-comic books.

They traveled light, with one exception for Patrick. Without exception, FOREVER, when we we went anywhere for longer than a day, Patrick would start a cold and then have asthma related difficulties for the first few days of the vacation. A nebulizer, the size of a small suitcase was always at his side. Racking up travel miles like a 1962 Samsonite hard-shell suitcase, this plastic contraption goes where we go. Once we get to where we're going, PT, or Potchy as we called him, hooks himself up to the breathing aparatus and begins enjoying warm, sunny days looking out on the ocean from his air conditioned, 2nd floor hotel or condo room. All the comforts of home, and content as could be when he should have been taking in all the comforts of the southern climate little Potchy-boy adjusted to the climate. By mid-week, Potch was out on the beach working on his tan-five or ten minutes here and there.

Many of those spring break days involved Patrick tagging along near Aaron and their cousin, Amanda Greening. Aaron and Amanda were non-stop swimmers. Patrick held his own once he adjusted. Every trip started by catching a flight from Milwaukee.

This morning we made a trip to Milwaukee for a flight to LA. Except, only one of us would be traveling. Potchy-boy was packed and in line for his boarding pass. Cathy and I were escorting him to the ticket counter. Our little boy was about to leave on a cross country flight to visit his cousin Amanda at Pepperdine. Amanda's Mom and Dad, Kathy and Dave Greening made the trip possible with a wonderful gift to Patrick. Cathy, Patrick, and I appreciate their generosity. They have the unique perspective of having lost a teenage son to know continuing bonds with a deceased sibling and cousins is good for the mourning and healing.

This is a trip Aaron would have made by now, and there would be no way we would see our boy Patrick going so far away all alone. But, here we are. Patrick, 15 and nearly six feet tall, is almost as confident a traveler as Aaron was at 17 and he's making a spring break trip all alone; or so we thought.

Midwest Express ticket agent, Margaret, was checking Patrick in. "What's your destination?" She asked. "California" was Patrick's immediate response. As if there was only one airport, or one city in the state, the answer was classic Aaron. We clarified that his preference was LA, but of course he wouldn't know the difference if Margaret chose San Francisco. Considering Amanda would be picking Patrick up at LAX, the agent continued to book him on the appropriate flight. The processing complete, Margaret handed our traveler a ticket and announced "Your seat is 29-F". Cathy and Patrick responded with a collective "Huhhh" the way you draw in air when you've been startled or really surprised. 2-9, as Aaron called it. Patrick was more than pleased to draw the seat.

We took Patrick through screening and stopped for a quick pre-flight bite. I'm sure Aaron's favorite drink, Snapple, is sold in all airports, but it was a good sign to PT to see it at the only spot where he could get a cold drink before boarding. He wanted gum, so we went into one of the book/magazine/snack/etc shops. Aaron's last pack of gum was a green apple flavored Wrigley brand. Patrick included a pack in selection. We took a seat to wait.

"Hmmm, 15 pieces in this pack of gum. A bottle of Snapple. And I'm in seat two-nine. I guess Aaron is really with me" Patrick told me. I agreed. Aaron wouldn't let PT travel alone and he would want to be in LA with Amanda. It's spring break.

I watched Patrick walk down to board the plane. Over his shoulder was Aaron's well worn back pack with the PHISH and PEACE sign patches. It's stuffed with a dvd player, and a blanket of Aaron's from MBA. In his sweatshirt pouch was a Snapple, and 15 sticks of Aaron's favorite gum. In his left hand, a ticket for seat 2-9 F. In his right hand---the nebulizer.

Breathe easy PT. Your brother is with you.

Sleep tight boys.

Dad