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As I write this, it is Sunday, November 29. Ryan died on a Sunday, the 29th of July. The date and the day of the week have only coincided a few times in the 28 months since Ryan’s death. For such a long time, both Sundays and the 29th of each month were very hard to get through. I kept up with how many weeks it had been until at some point I realized I had lost count. And the 29th of the month was like a land mine for many, many months. But today, almost 2 ½ years after tragedy struck, I am amazed at the healing power of time.

When Ryan died I believed I would never feel joy or happiness again. I was afraid I would never even feel peaceful again. For months I prayed for peace, strength, hope, courage and grace. (That was about all I could pray but I prayed for that.) I’m sure there are parents who love their children as much as we loved Ryan but I’m absolutely sure there are none who love their children MORE than we loved him. To lose him was absolutely the worst thing imaginable and I was convinced my life was over.

Now here I am, still with a hole in my heart that will never close, but able to once again feel bits of joy and happiness – against all odds. Yesterday, Ross and I put up a Christmas tree and listened to our Amy Grant Christmas c.d. while we were out getting the tree. We couldn’t do that those first two Christmases. Ron and I find ourselves occasionally laughing again. There is color in our world again – not the black & white desolation we lived in for so long.

I remember reading a quote from Danielle Steele, the novelist, who also lost a child. She said “Losing a child is 9 parts horror and 1 part gift.” I have been looking for that 1 part gift. As I ruminate on what we’ve been through, I realize the gift is learning to live in the present; learning to enjoy & appreciate the simple joys of life; learning that the true purpose of our lives is to do what we can to make this world a better place. My Ryan did that and so did another very special person who died today.

I learned a little while ago that Bette Belle Smith died this afternoon. On a Sunday. On the 29th. I am sad because we have lost a phenomenal human being. She was my special friend from the first day I moved to Modesto. I loved her dearly and will miss her greatly.
A few days after Ryan’s funeral, she called me and we talked a bit. I sobbed and told her I was jealous of her because she would likely get to heaven before me and see Ryan first. She sweetly said “And we’re going to bake chocolate chip cookies together.”

So tonight, I hope Ryan is at Heaven’s gates to welcome Bette Belle in. (You know she must have a HUGE welcoming committee.) And I hope they bake those chocolate chip cookies and she tells him how very much his mom, dad & brother love and miss him.