blogs

Last Friday was the 29th. The thirty month anniversary of Ryan's death. 2 1/2 years - truly amazing. There were times I didn’t think I would survive the next 2 1/2 hours, much less 2 1/2years. I recall a friend who had lost her only child about 2 ½ years before Ryan’s death telling me that the first two years were the worst. At that moment, two years felt like eternity. I honestly didn’t believe I would live another 2 years without my boy. Yet here I am. Still standing. Still making it through each day. Even having fun sometimes – something I didn’t think I would ever do again.

Time is a two edged sword. It’s the only thing that lessens the pain and allows us to go on. The only thing that heals the gaping wound in our heart. It’s the only thing that blurs the painful lines of our loss. Yet, it also takes us farther from the one we loved and makes them fuzzier in our mind. No longer can we immediately remember exactly how they laughed or talked or sneezed. No longer can we remember exactly how they smelled after climbing out of the pool after a water polo game. No longer can we remember all the facial expressions they made or funny things they said. While we never forget the essence of them, try as we might, we can’t remember all the small details. I guess it’s a fair trade off – I’m enormously grateful for the lightening of the pain but sad to lose the little details of my son’s bright life.

Last Thursday was Ross’ birthday. We tried to make it special, as we do every year, yet he told me on Saturday that is was a lonely day for him. I suspect it was lonely because his brother is no longer here. It’s hard to become an only child at 22. Ryan’s death wounded us all. I sometimes forget how hard it’s been on Ross because I have been so consumed with how hard it’s been on me.

2 ½ years and a lifetime to go .