Perfect Ribs

Eric has always been a perfectionist – the kind of guy who does everything to the best of his ability, right down to the tiniest detail of the smallest job.

His wife, Geodee, understands this. That’s why she requested his always-perfect ribs for Mother’s Day – tender, juicy, precisely spiced, basted and grilled. It was a ritual he always insisted on doing solo; anyone who tried to help just messed things up.

But “chemo head” got in the way. That’s what Eric calls the side effects of his treatments and medicines. Chemo head causes him to lose track of time and interrupts the stream of his thoughts. It robs him of his 150-plus IQ, of the brain power he used as a Navy instructor.

Still, he was determined to do his best on those ribs. He stood in front of the grill, struggling to focus. His mother Leslie was beside him, waving the smoke away from his face. Eldest daughter Erica was on the other side, wiping his nose. Eric wanted to go it alone as much as he could, but this assistance, from family members, he could take. The help led to some chit-chat, and the chit-chat led to hugs, and the hugs to tears.

Dinner was not served until long after sunset.

Eric’s ribs turned out dry and crusty.

To his wife, they were perfect.