The First Christmas....

    The first Christmas has come and gone...I surived.  Did I feel the joy Christmas usually fills me with?  No.  Was there a painful void in the family gatherings?  Yes.  Will Christmas ever be what it once was?  I doubt it.
     My goal this Christmas was to make things as joyful as I could for my other kids. I knew they were hurting, and felt the same anxiety about Christmas as I did.  Somehow, I felt I needed to lead them through the holidays...even though I didn't know how I would survive them myself.  I suppose that is the job of a mother...to stand strong and lead the way, no matter how much you wish you could run and hide.  No matter how much your heart is hurting, or how unsure you are of which direction it is you need to move...as a mother, you must find a way.  They needed me, their needs matter so much more then my own, and that is where I found my strength....it came from the love I have for my kids who are still here with me, as well as the love I have for Ryan. I am certain that Ryan knew I would find my strength from this very love.  I also know he was proud of my efforts...which matters more then I can say.
     We had a very special time with the kids.  We were all painfully feeling Ryan's absence, but together, we made it through.  I got them all Vision Memory Blankets, which had pictures of each of them with Ryan, on their individual blankets.  I knew in my heart I needed to give them a piece of Ryan this year, so I spent hours putting these blankets together, and addressed it to each of them from Ryan and me.  They were all very touched, and I know the blankets meant the world to them.  My instincts were right...they needed a piece of Ryan this Christmas.  Throughout the evening we laughed some, we cried some, we talked of Ryan a lot.  We brought him into this home with us...right where he belongs.  And...we missed him deeply.
     We spent time with the Pyzers and Beebouts, as well as time on our own.  Some family members shared their concern with words, a look, or a touch...gently letting me know they knew this was hard and they were there.  Some spoke not a word, nor showed any signs of reaching out.  To those who dared to address the sadness, no matter how uncomfortable it may have been for them, I am grateful.  With their words and/or gestures, not only did they show me that my broken heart, and the hearts of my husband and children mattered...they let me know Ryan was still a part of Christmas.  I needed to know that...my entire family needed that.  When my mom arrived, she walked in the door and handed me a small, artificial poinsettia to put under Ryan's tree.  This was one of the greatest gifts I was given this Christmas.  Some may ask...what was the big deal with that?  Well, it was a very big deal to me.  What it told me was she cared about my heart, she understood I was carrying an unspeakable sadness within, and she knew how important it was to bring Ryan into this Christmas somehow.  She knew what Ryan's tree meant to me, so she added to it.  What greater gift could anyone ever give a mother grieving the loss of her child?  I will keep that poinsettia forever, and each year when I put his tree out, that plant will sit under it...reminding me of the incredible gesture of love she gave to me, to Ryan, and my entire family that first Christmas.
     Since Christmas, I have felt numb.  Some tears, at the most unexpected times, but for the most part... very numb.  Perhaps this is a way to shield myself from the magnified sadness surrounding the holidays?  Perhaps a way to protect my heart from the pain I don't know how to deal with?  Perhaps a way to survive the remainder of these dreaded holidays?  Perhaps a way to process how these first holidays were without Ryan here with us?  Whatever the reason, I am almost grateful for the numbness.  I'm sure it's part of the grieving process, and won't last for long, but immediately following this First Christmas...I welcome the numbness.

Three Months Later....

     As I write this blog, I am moving into the time 3 months ago, when I saw and spoke to Ryan for the last time on this earth.  So many emotions are running through me, I don't know what to say.  I only know I need to say something, because the sadness is building and must be released.
     I don't know how grief is measured, or if it can be.  I know there is no timeline, no right way....only my way.  I don't know what "my way" is under these horrific circumstances, so I continue to take it one day at a time.  I have never been so shaken, thrown into such turmoil, or felt such heart wrenching anguish in my entire life.  There have been many times I have felt the ground beneath me ripped away....but in all those times, I have never felt completely broken like I do now.  My world was shattered 3 months ago, and I can honestly say, I am no better today then I was that fateful day of Sept. 22, 2010.  I am still broken, and am questioning when I will feel the pieces of my life are somehow coming together again...or if I ever will?
     After Ryan died, I managed to face what I had to do.  I did what needed to be done....made the painful phone calls, worked with his dad in making decisions and arrangements, dressed him one last time before his brothers and sisters saw him, and finally....I poured my heart and soul into his memorial.  It kept him close, and it was something I was doing in his honor...a gift to him.  When the one month anniversary came, I arranged to write notes and release balloons with his siblings...a way to help them, while honoring Ryan.  Then came Thanksgiving...I pushed through it, although inside, I wanted nothing to do with it.  Now Christmas is here, a time Ryan loved so much, and I have found the strength to push into this holiday as well.  Not for me, but for my family.  I knew how important it was to make things as normal as possible...whatever normal means anymore?  I am strong, I always have been.  I do what I need to do, no matter how much sadness my heart carries.  Because of this strength, I know I will continue to move forward, endure, and do whatever it is that needs to be done. 
     But underneath this strength, is a woman who has a broken heart.  A woman who will never get over this loss.  A woman who will never stop missing her little boy.  A woman who will always wish her son was still here.  A woman who will forever long to see her son's smile, and hear his voice again.  A woman who will always remember the joy Ryan brought into my life, into this family, and into the lives of so many.  Yet sadly, at the same time,  think of all the things he will never get to experience.  I am a woman who will never be the same person she was before...so perhaps I also grieve for the loss of me.
     I am a strong woman.  But I am also a broken woman.  I am a woman who is a mother....a mother who lost her child...a child much too young to die.  As I sit here with tears pouring down my face, I am certain of this...this pain is just as severe at 3 months, as it was the day it happened.  Perhaps it is worse now, because I am not protected by the physical and emotional responses that happen with shock.  All I have now is the harsh reality...a reality I find very hard to accept and live with.

Ryan's Message In A Dream....

     Ryan's friend sent me a note a couple of weeks ago...she had another dream with Ryan.  She said they were sitting together, and in the background a song was playing... "Dear Mama."  As the music played, the words appeared in front of her, much like they would on a karaoke machine.  As the words scrolled down, Ryan grabbed the lyrics he liked...or he wanted her to share with me.  When he touched the lyrics, they became brighter, came towards her, and then disappeared.  When she woke, she felt she was meant to share the lyrics with me.  I am grateful for this. 
     Some may think this is nothing but a nice dream....but for myself, I believe Ryan had something to share with me...and once again, he knew where to go.  He knows my pain, could never bear to see me cry, and I believe he is reaching out once more.  Reaching out just to let me know how much he loved me...and loves me still.   Ryan had a message, and shared it through his friend's dream.  This...I BELIEVE.



"I finally understand, for a woman it aint easy trying to raise a man."
"Lady, don't you know we love you sweet lady?  Place no one above you sweet lady...you are appreciated, don't you know we love you?"
"Cause when I was low you were there for me, and never left me alone cause you cared for me."
"And I could see you coming home from work late, in the kitchen trying a fix us a hot plate."
"Just working with the scraps you were given, mama made miracles every Thanksgiving."
" Pour out some liquor and I reminisce, cause through the drama I can always depend on my mama."
"And when it seems like I’m hopeless, you say the words that could get me back in focus."
"When I was sick as a little kid, to keep me happy there’s no limit to the things you did."
"And all my childhood memories, are full of all the sweet things you did for me."
"And even though I act crazy, gotta thank the lord that you made me."
"There are no words to explain the way I feel, you never kept secrets, always stayed real."
"And I appreciate how you raised me, and all the extra love that you gave me."
"I wish that I could take the pain away, if you can make it through the night, there’s a better day."
"Everything will be alright if you hold on, its a struggle everyday, gotta roll on."
"And there’s no way I can pay you back, but my plan is to show you that I understand...you are appreciated."

As Christmas Approaches....

     Decorations are up, shopping is nearly done, and presents are under the tree.  Despite all of this, my heart is painfully empty.  As Christmas approaches, the sadness in my heart seems to grow stronger...which I didn't think was even possible at this point in my life.  It is almost becoming too much to endure...which leaves me questioning my strength and ability to survive this journey I have been forced to take.  I am filled with endless tears and an overwhelming anguish...an anguish I can not even begin to describe.
     Christmas has always been my favorite time of year.  The birth of Jesus, the music, the decorations, the warmth of family, and most of all...the love which people seem to give to each other so freely.  I always thought it was sad that people didn't carry that love throughout the rest of the year, but at the same time, did feel grateful for the time it was here.  What use to be my favorite time of year, is proving now to be a time of devastating sadness and loss.
     Ryan always loved Christmas, and his brothers and sisters did too.  They love the decorations, the excitement of Santa, and the feeling of love that seems to be everywhere.  If I had no other children , I would have crawled into my bed this year, hiding from the world.  But...I do have other kids, and because of that, I need to find a way to bring joy into their hearts.  This Christmas will be hard on Ryan's brothers and sisters too, so it's my job to do all I can to create a normal Christmas....all the while not knowing what normal is anymore?
     I bought a small fiber optic tree and wrote Ryan's name at the base.  I have placed two pictures of Ryan on each side of the tree.  It is my way of paying tribute to him, and keeping him with us in a way everyone will notice.  I know he will be in our hearts, but I feel there needs to be something special to look at...something which honors his life and his spirit with us.  The fiber optic tree radiates like a rainbow, the symbol of hope God has always shown me in my darkest hours...the promise that things would be OK.  I need that promise right now, so I brought it into my home, and called it Ryan's tree.
     I try to be excited for the kids, although I don't always succeed.  I did everything I could to make the house look the way it always looked for Christmas, which took every bit of strength I had.  I forced myself out into the world to buy gifts, even though I ended up breaking down during those shopping times.  I am doing all I can to make Christmas right for my other kids, but deep within my heart...I feel nothing but emptiness and sorrow as this first Christmas without Ryan approaches.
    

Searching for Peace....

     Sometimes the turmoil inside is so strong, so overpowering, it seems as if there will never be a sense of peace again.  I am not expecting to find complete peace or acceptance....I know they will never be mine.  I don't imagine after losing a child you ever feel complete peace again...after all, your child is no longer with you.  However, a sense of peace is needed to move forward and allow you to breathe.  At least it is for me.
     My greatest peace comes from the ocean.   It is there I find some sort of comfort in this insanity, a small sense of peace...letting God's love and majesty completely surround and fill me.  Those visits are not nearly as often as I need them to be, but they do help while I'm there.  I have been reading a lot...again, searching for that sense of peace my heart desperately needs right now.  Books about faith, afterlife, near death experiences,  the paths of other people who have lost a child, etc....  I am so open to everyone's ideas, thoughts, and feelings... passing no judgement on the journey they are on. 
     I know how hard life can be, and how much we all need peace in our hearts.  When you lose a child, you are thrown into a very lonely, quiet, and seemingly impossible place.  It takes every bit of strength to get out of bed each day and try to resume a semi normal life for the rest of your family.  All the while, nothing feels normal within yourself.  I don't even know what normal is anymore?  I don't know how I am suppose to function in the world as I did before?  I don't know when this overwhelming feeling of sadness will ever lighten?  I don't know when I will feel joy in my heart again... or if I will?  Nothing is the same, nothing feels right...I am a mother who has lost her child.  Even now, I can not seem to wrap my head around that reality.
     I continue getting up each day.  Sometimes I feel like I'm numbly walking through the day, other times I know I am barely  crawling.   I continue trying to meet the needs of my family, although I'm sure I fail them in many ways.  While I go through the motions, deep in my heart... I am fighting and frantically searching for some sense of peace.

The Blessings of Ryan....

     Ryan has been a blessing to me from the moment he was conceived.  Throughout my pregnancy, I knew the child within me was a gift.  A gift I was so grateful for.  A gift given to me from God...and taken away, too soon, by the very One who gave him to me.  As I try to make sense of this, or at least find a little sense of peace, I am reminded of the blessings he brought into my life, as well as the lives of all who loved him.
     Ryan was always a gentle spirit.  His heart was tender and giving from the moment he knew how to share it.  He did not like conflict with anyone, and withdrew at its very presence.  As he got older, when conflict surrounded him, he tried to calm the waters.  If he couldn't find the peace he desired, he walked away from the situation.  He believed in peace between people...in unity.  He believed in reaching out to all he knew and loved, as well as reaching out to those he had never met before.  He believed we should all love each other unconditionally, and did not believe in passing judgement on others.  He knew that was not his job, or the job of any other person.  He lived what he believed, and knew to be right. At his young age, he KNEW what loving another person really meant.  He understood what God meant when He said to love each other...he really understood.
     In Ryan's young death, I am left so empty.  Yet I am also amazed at the power one young life has had on hundreds of people.  As I think of him, I wonder if perhaps his early death wasn't some sort of sacrifice on his part....some understanding he had with God... to better the hearts and souls of those he loved, and who loved him.  Perhaps if he were still here, we wouldn't be hearing and seeing the message of love we are all receiving now?  This does not take away the ache in my heart, but it does help me see that God has a plan...even if His plan has left me broken.
     I pray that all who loved Ryan will keep their hearts and eyes open, so that they will always listen and see....Listen to the message of love he showed us in his short life, and always See the Blessings of Ryan.

The First Thanksgiving....

     I know Thanksgiving is a time to be thankful for all we have, and I usually am.  However, this year I had a huge hole in my heart, a very loved son missing from the table, and being thankful for anything was something I did with effort, not ease.
     We went to my loving sister's house for dinner.  They offered to cook Thanksgiving for us, knowing how hard this holiday would be on us all.  For their sensitivity, love, and support... I am so grateful.  My mom was there, who is fighting a  courageous battle with cancer... for the gift of her with us for one more year of holidays, I am very grateful.  My children....4 of them were with us today, and words could never express the gratitude I feel for their precious lives.  Sean and Kaitie...I know they felt their brother's absence in a very painful way, and I share in that pain.  The time together was very nice, although my heart felt so heavy today.  It was not until the end of the evening that the tears began to fall, as I talked to my sister about Turkey soup...something Ryan loved.  My son, Sean, saw me crying and immediately held me....I know his heart was aching for Ryan too.  No matter how nice it was to all be together, and it was...it was not right without Ryan with us.
     When we were leaving, my sister called me back to her front porch to look at something.  On the cement step, out of what looked like dried mud sunken into the cement, was a perfect heart.  Ryan needed us to know he WAS with us.  Then when we started to drive home, a song played on the radio that I don't hear much anymore, but  have posted on my Facebook as a tribute to Ryan..."Testify to Love."  Again, Ryan letting me know he was with us.  I turned the volume up very loud, and silently cried to myself so no one would know.  I continued to cry the entire way home.
     I am grateful that Ryan was with us.  I am grateful that once again he let us know.  I am grateful I, and those who love him, see the signs he continually sends.  Although I always find comfort and peace in this.... today it wasn't enough.  Today his spiritual presence did not comfort me like it usually does, because today I wanted more....I wanted Ryan with me.   I wanted him because it was Thanksgiving, because Ryan loved to eat, because Ryan is such a huge part of this family, because I love him so much...because he is my child.  He is MY CHILD, and was taken at too young of an age.  For the first time since he died, I felt a glimpse of anger driving home.  Anger that all I have left are memories and signs of his spritual presence, and not him here with us.  I felt cheated out of a lifetime of loving him as we drove home, not only for myself, but for my other children.  I felt the unfairness of it all, and wondered.....  will I ever be OK again?  Nothing is the same, and nothing feels right. 
     I am always so grateful and comforted by the signs he sends...but today, on this first Thanksgiving...it just wasn't enough. 

The Comfort Of The Ocean....

      We all need a place to run...a place where we feel safe from the hurts of the world....a safe place to fall.  The ocean has always been a place of peace, spiritual growth, comfort....a place where God always holds me.  If ever I needed held by God, it's now.
     I was blessed to have had a couple of days there, thanks to the generosity of my brother.  As soon as I saw the raging sea, my chest opened up, and for the first time since Ryan died....I felt like I could breathe again.  I knew I needed to be there, and I'm sure God knew it as well.
     For my entire adult life, I have run to the ocean when I was in need, when I felt turmoil inside, when I needed peace, when I wanted to feel close to God.  Watching the majestic waves always makes me feel the power and wonder of God...helping me remember, He is in control.  Although I don't always understand the reasons for things, I am able to somehow let go a little and trust things will be OK.  Perhaps this is the peace that seeps into my heart when I stand before the ocean, watching waves crash against the rocks and cliffs.  As I watch the waves roll in and out, I am reminded of change, of life constantly moving, of love coming and going....and coming again, of pain and joy....I am reminded that nothing stays the same, no matter how much we wish it could.  Yet, I am also reminded of how things do stay the same.
     This is the first time I have ventured out since Ryan died...I went where God was calling me, where He always calls me.   I wrote notes to Ryan in the sand, I looked for hearts in the sky, I talked to Ryan, I talked to God, I cried, I sang "Testify to Love" over and over as I walked along the beach....tears streaming down my face.  In doing these things, I was reminded I need to nurture my heart right now, as it is broken, and needs the tenderness and comfort only God can give.  The ocean is the one place I surrender, and really allow God to hold me in my brokenness.  As I returned home, the anxiety and fear began to build, the tears began to fall, and I knew I must return soon.   I will return to the ocean, I will allow God to hold me again, I will feel Ryan with me....and I hope each time I go I can build a little more strength within to continue to endure and move forward.   The comfort of the ocean for me, is in fact, the comfort of God.    

The Pain Of My Children....

     Tomorrow is the 2 month anniversary of Ryan's death.  My heart is heavy today, not only for my own loss, but for my children who are still living....carrying the pain and emptiness of losing their brother.
     Ryan was blessed to have many brothers and sisters.  He was loved by all of them, and loved them in return.  When he died, a part of them died as well.  I know this is their journey to take, much like my own, but as a mother you can't help but feel their pain....suffering in the realization that this heartbreak is one you can't heal.  Like myself, they each have a journey to take, and although we can support each other along the way, they will ultimately walk the road alone.  How does a mother accept her child is hurting and she can't fix it?  I know every mother asks this question, but when a child dies...a brother, the question cuts much deeper.
     I have witnessed great sorrow with my kids. I have heard the painful cries of  brothers and sisters when they heard the news that their brother died.  I have seen the endless  tears.  I have felt the unexplainable anger spilling out of them as they yelled through their cries.  I have seen their unforgettable anguish as they said their final goodbyes.  I have helplessly listened to their cries ......"I just need something to make me happy again....Am I ever going to stop feeling so sad?.....I just want Ryan back, that's all I want.....I miss him so much.....Is this really happening?.....I can't deal with this pain.....I don't have anyone to talk to.....I'm all alone.....I don't want to cry, so I hold it inside.....I can't deal with this, so I try not to think about it.....Why Ryan?.....I want to be with Ryan, I just want to die.....    Each cry has broken my heart a little more, yet I encourage the tears and desperate cries, because I know they need to let these feelings out.  I know they must walk through the pain to get to the other side, even when it feels like it will completely consume them.  Yet with this knowledge, I also know the fear that can leave you paralyzed.
     Why is my heart so heavy?  Because I know they must all walk this painful journey, and I can not walk it for them.  No mother wants to see her child hurt...the instinct is to make things better again.  For the first time in my life, there is nothing I can do to make any of this better.  I am as helpless as my children.  I am broken too.  For a moment I think I am failing them somehow, but then I realize I am letting them see me in my brokenness, letting them see the woman I am, the mother I am....is honestly sharing your heart with your child failing them?  I don't think it is.  At least I hope not.
     What I can do is try to give them hope.  Hope that there will be a tomorrow, that Ryan will always be with us, and we will feel joy again.  We will probably never get over this, but we will learn to rise from the ashes and live again.  It will never be the same, but that doesn't mean there won't be happiness.  But for now, while hearts are still aching, I just pray that my kids know I am here.  That they know I am always the safe place they can fall.  That even though I am broken inside, I am never too broken to hold them in their pain.  That I need them as much as they need me.  That I am their mom....and although I am grieving the loss of one child, it does not mean my love for my other children is any less. 
     I love my kids, and because of this love, I will always carry their pain, no matter how much pain I am feeling myself.  I hope their hearts know this to be true.

What I Believe....

     I have spent a lot of time pondering my beliefs, the very beliefs that breathe life into me each day.  During a time like this, you need your beliefs to fall on, to lean on, to hold you up.  Beliefs are with you no matter what challenges life gives you, no matter how much anguish you feel, no matter how much you feel God is testing you.  If you believe, your faith will carry you through....at least that has been the reality in my life.
     I believe in God.  For as long as I can remember, that faith has been within me.  Through joys, pains, sorrows, and celebrations....it has been constant.  My relationship with God has taken many roads throughout the years.  It has been turbulent, quiet, fulfilling, full of question, and life sustaining.  No matter how much pain or loss I have felt, I have never questioned whether or not God existed...I just knew He did.  When I lost Ryan, I remember thinking...."if ever I would question my beliefs...now will be the time."  Despite my heart being broken, leaving me lifeless, I still believe.  I don't understand why, but I don't need to understand....that is what faith is about.
     I also believe with God all things are possible.  I believe when someone you love dies, they watch over you.  I believe they are always with you, and if you listen with an open heart and open mind, you will hear, see, and feel the signs of love they send you.  Through clouds, through a scent, through dreams, through music, through a feeling, through visions....we just need to listen.  Some may think this is merely a grieving mother needing to see what she sees, reading things into nothing....but I say it is not.  I know it is not.  After all.....all things are possible with God, are they not?  Who are we on earth to put limits on what God can, or will do, to bring comfort to a crying heart? 
     My dad coming to me in a dream prior to Ryan's death just confirms my belief.  I didn't know what the dream meant until after Ryan died, but now, it is one of the only things that gives me comfort in knowing there was nothing I could have done....God's plan was already in motion.   He sent me a message of  'soon to be comfort',  before Ryan died...He let my dad come to me, knowing I would turn back to that dream numerous times, just to get through each day.  I believe my dad came to help me in the only way he could.  He is in heaven, I am on earth.....but I am still his daughter.  He knew the pain I was about to encounter and he needed to be there for his little girl.  He was there for me...for Ryan.  That dream was a gift, a gift that has kept me breathing.
     Prior to my surgery last week, I asked Ryan to be with me.  The night of my surgery, one of Ryan's friends had a dream, which she shared with me.  I found her note days later, and wrote back to her in tears.  I shared that I had asked Ryan to be with me, that I had surgery,  and assured her I would thank Ryan for sending me a message through her...because I knew he had.  I did thank him, and I know he heard, because this same girl had another dream just the other night...Ryan came to her and thanked her for letting me know how he felt.   This was her note to me:
      "I woke up crying from this dream and knew that I had to tell you.  We were somewhere, I still cant figure out where, but there was beautiful green grass and a little waterfall that ran into a pond.  It was sunny, but there was some wind, so it wasn’t very hot.   He was saying how much he cared for you and he said that you would be OK and he is with you.  I couldn’t figure out why he was saying you would be OK but now I know it was because of your surgery.  He started to cry when he started to say he doesn’t think you know how much you meant to him and how much he loves you and how he loved your relationship.  He said he knows you can get through anything because you are the strongest woman he has ever met.  He also said that you were not only his mom, but his best friend, and he would give anything to have one more day with you so you know how much you mean to him."    
      When I read this note, I immediately broke into uncontrollable tears.  I KNEW Ryan had come to her...he needed me to know something and he knew who to go to.... someone who would hear, believe, and share.  Ryan knows my strong belief and faith in God, and all the possibilities that holds.  Ryan shared that faith.  I don't put limits on what is possible, I never have.  I honestly do believe all things are possible with God.  I have seen it in my life numerous times, and I am seeing it now....a time when I need it the most. 
     What I believe?  I believe in God, I believe our loved ones are always with us, and I believe if we have the open heart that is needed.....they will reach down and we will hear, see, and feel it.  I do believe all things are possible....I believe because I have faith.

My Letter To Ryan....

My Dear Ryan,

     It is almost 2 months since you left, and the aching inside has no mercy.  I look at your pictures around the house...sometimes I touch your face, sometimes I cry, and sometimes I just wish I could hold you one more time.  But I know one more time would not be enough.  To hear your voice, touch your hair, and feel the joy I always felt when you sent a smile my way.  These are things I constantly long for.
    The house feels so empty now.  You were such a large part of my life, of my world, of this family.  I know I am not the only one hurting, and for everyone who was close to you, I feel the emptiness.  An emptiness that has become a powerful reality in my life.
     I want you to know, although I'm sure you do, that your friends and I are looking out for each other.  You had such a variety of friends, which speaks to the kind of heart you had.  They are all so loving and giving and you need to know how much they have reached out to me.  So many of them have told me how much you loved me....a gift so great they will never understand it.  I only hope I am bringing them an ounce of the peace and comfort they bring to me each day.
     Your brothers and sisters.....they are all broken.  They all seem to deal with this in their own ways, which I try to respect.  Whether it be diving into their work, their own families, their friends....they are just trying to survive.  Much like myself that way.   I think the gut wrenching pain of you being gone is too much for any of them to endure, so they keep themselves busy, trying not to think.  Perhaps avoiding a reality they are not yet ready to accept?  Again, I understand that, but it worries me too.  I ask you to look after each and every one of them, and when the time comes, and they fall down in pain, please help them stand up again.  Let them know you are there and you believe in them.  They will need that from you.  Knowing you are with them is where they will find the strength within to get through this and continue on.  They will never get over it, but they can get through it.  Ryan, please let them all know you are there.
     Myself...I'm sure you see what has happened to me.  I know you never liked to see me cry, and I'm so sorry you have to see me broken like this.  I actually feel guilty that you would see me in so much pain, but I'm sure that doesn't surprise you.  You know how deeply I loved you, how close we were, how special you always were to me...so I'm sure you understand the anguish I'm feeling.  I believe you are with me, and I thank you for always letting me see that.  I ask you to continue to watch over me, too, because sometimes I don't know how I will get through this.  I don't know who I am anymore, or who I am becoming?  I know you always believed in me and the woman I was, so I will try and draw from that to pull myself up again.  I would never want to let you down.
     You...I am happy you are with my dad again.  I am happy he came to get you and I know he is so proud of you.  I am happy you feel a joy and love like no one here could begin to understand.  You gave love so freely to others... you deserve the love you are living in now.  Is it everything I told you it would be?  I imagine it's so much more....
     Even though my heart aches, I celebrate for you.  I rejoice for you.  I am so happy that you now know complete peace within.  One day we will be together again, and you can show me all the beauty and love you have found in heaven...and in that sweet moment when we meet...Your Mom will touch your face, rub your hair, feel the complete joy of your smile, and hold you again in her arms like she always did...and has longed to do...every day since you left.

You are always in my heart Ry....I love you completely.

Mom

The Lonliness in Grief....

     Through the deep losses in my life, I have learned that grief is a very individualized process.  Each person grieves differently, in their own time, in their own way.  No way is right, no time is right, and no one can tell you how to do it.  It is a road you ultimately walk alone.  A journey you wish you never had to take, but eventually will.  Once that journey begins, there is no one who can wash away the pain.  It is your pain, your journey, your grief.
     Along the road you will meet many loving people who will try to help.  Some with their words, their gifts, their genuine concern, their prayers, their love.  Although this does not take away the hurt, it does allow you to know that you are loved....and we can never have enough love, can we?  There will also be some who say sorry, are present when the tragedy first strikes, and then quietly disappear into the night.  Perhaps because they don't know what to say, what to do, or how to help?  I've never been one to disappear into the night, so I can't really understand  or make sense of this reaction.  However, I do know there must be a reason, so I accept it as "their way". 
     When you lose someone, the reality is the only ones who will completely understand what you are feeling, are the ones who have experienced the exact same loss.  Whether it be the loss of an aunt, a grandparent, a parent, or a child.  It's almost as if you become a member of an elite club once you have experienced a loss, and only those club members understand what it's really about.  Sadly, I have been a part of many elite clubs, but the loss of my son, Ryan, is the loneliest journey of grief I have ever been on.
     When your child dies, no matter what the circumstance may be, a part of you dies with them.  The child you brought into the world....to love, nurture, hold, protect....has been heartlessly ripped from your arms in the snap of a finger.  It is a violent and physical separation...no mother should have to endure such pain.  No mother should have her child taken from her.   Nothing is the same.  Your world is shattered to its very core.  The woman you once were has disappeared, and you wait, wondering.... what will the new woman be like when she finally emerges from the depths of darkness she is in?  Will she emerge in one piece?  Will she be able to love again, like she once did so freely?  Will her family and friends know her?  Will anyone recognize her?  Will everyone still be there, no matter how long it takes, waiting for her?
     There is a lot of lonliness in grief, but losing my little boy, Ryan....this is the loneliest journey of my life.

Poem on Memorial Card and Obituary....

He walked upon this blessed earth, for only 16 years.
His sudden death has left us all, in painful, mournful tears.
We’re left with aching hearts, he slipped right through our hands.
Why God would take this precious life, we can not understand.

Although his time was short here, his path is clear to see.
He gave his heart so freely, to all he saw in need.
He never judged another by their race, or looks, or friends.
He saw into their hearts and souls, and loved them til the end.

In honor of our Ryan, a youth beyond his years.
We need to open up ourselves, and reach beyond our tears.
With open hearts, extended hands, all judgment left behind.
Reach out to one another, with your heart, your soul, your mind.
　
Let this be the lesson, the legacy he leaves.
To never judge another, give love to all you see.
Remember he is with us, our angel up above.
The greatest honor we could show………to give each other love.

Ryan Depp

　

　

     Ryan Patrick Depp, 16, died of unexpected natural causes on Sept. 22, 2010 in Hidden Valley Lake, CA.
He is survived by his Mother, Glenda Pyzer (Russ); Father, Rich Depp (Julie); Brothers, Jeremy Depp (SueZann), Sean Depp; Sisters, Shawndre Depp (Jay), Kaitie Depp, Annabel Pyzer, Breanna Pyzer; Mike Pyzer (Krista),Grandparents, Jan Beebout, Harry Depp, Ken and Diane Staudinger, Lenard and Rose Pyzer; 11 Aunts; 13 Uncles; 28 cousins; 6 nephews; 1 neice; Godparents, Leslie Adams and Larry Sark, and numerous other family members and friends. He is preceded in death by his Grandfather, Ed Beebout; Grandmother, Mary Depp.
     Ryan was born on March 17, 1994 in Santa Rosa, CA. He was always athletic, playing baseball and football, but his great passion was basketball. He was gifted on the court and an absolute joy to watch. Ryan, although only 16, was wise beyond his years. He had many friends in Santa Rosa and Lake County. His friends were from all walks of life, and he loved them all unconditionally. He did not judge others, instead, he managed to see directly into their hearts and find the good in everyone he met. He is known for reaching out to others, being kind to everyone he met, accepting people for who they were, lending a caring ear when needed, warm hugs, his “million dollar smile” which lit up the room, and his love, loyalty, and devotion to his family. An unbelievable legacy for a 16 year old to leave behind! Our hearts ache for this sudden, and painful loss. We all love Ryan with all of our hearts and miss him terribly. We are all blessed, and better people, for having Ryan in our lives to love, and to be loved by.
     A Memorial Service will be held at the Resurrection Parish Church located at 303 Stony Point Road (corner of Stony Point Rd and W. 3rd St), Santa Rosa, CA. 95401 on Oct. 15^th at 3pm. With open hearts, we invite all who would like to attend.
     In lieu of flowers, our family would greatly appreciate donations being sent to Camp For A Cure, which is a local baseball camp run by Ryan’s Aunt and Uncle. All proceeds go to The American Cancer Society, Lupus Foundation of America, and The American Diabetes Association.
Checks can be mailed “In honor of Ryan Depp” to: P.O. Box 2623 Rohnert Park, CA. 94927.www.campforacure.org

Breanna's Letter to Ryan....

My 4 year old, Breanna, has been coming to me over the past hour having me write notes on a piece of paper.  It is a letter to Ryan, which she would like to mail to him.  I wanted to be sure to capture her heart....

"Sorry you died Ryan.  I just love you.  I go to school and try not to miss you.  You always loved me.  I'm cute.  I know you died Ryan.  Ryan loved Breanna and Annabel too.  Ryan loved our family.  The earth and the sun and the moon.  Mommy is your family.  Daddy is your family.  Sean and Kaitie and Annabel and Breanna are your family.  The cats are your family.  Lucky is your family.  Everyobody loved Ryan.  Everybody cried because Ryan died and went to heaven.  I know you died.  I really love you and really miss you.  Eat healthy food.  Mommy is the best mom for Ryan.  Breanna is the best little girl.  You always let me go in your bedroom and say hi to your friends.  Because Mommy loved you, she always made you the best food ever.  I very, very, very, love you so much.  Because I love you I'm going to send a letter to you.  Mommy is the best, best, mommy in the world.  Because I love you I want you to come back down.  You can't come back down because you are in heaven.  I'm going to send this up to heaven.  I really want you to come down because I miss you and then I won't miss you anymore.  I am sick.  I am going to send this to Ryan.  I'm going to make a rainbow.  I like riding on a rainbow too.  I love riding on a unicorn.  The end."

A Mother's Eulogy (10/15/10)....

     As I write this, a public goodbye and respect to my Ryan, I wonder what a mother is suppose to say when she has lost her child? What is too much? What is not enough? But even more then this, I wonder why any mother should have to lose her child?
     Ryan was so much…to so many. He was a son, a brother, a grandson, a nephew, a cousin, a godson, and a friend. But for me, Ryan was my baby. He was my infant, my toddler, my little boy, my teenager. He was my Ryan.
     I can still remember the joy and completeness I felt each time he moved inside of me. I remember every detail of his birth like it was yesterday…..my St. Patrick’s Day baby with bright, red hair and big blue eyes. I remember his quiet nature as an infant, never crying or fussing. He was so quiet, that I often called the pediatrician as I thought something must be wrong with him. They would always assure me he was perfectly fine…just a content and happy baby. I remember his quiet nature as a toddler and little boy. His extreme shyness at large gatherings of people. His ability to amuse himself, and the comfort he always seemed to have with being by himself. I remember the way he would fight a smile, and if one started to show, he would try to cover his mouth with his hand so no one would see. I told Ryan many times it was OK to smile…that people loved to see him smile. And when he did let you see, or he just couldn‘t hide the joy in his face any longer, the room simply exploded in the happiness his smile would penetrate. His smile was magical. It was a gift to me every time I saw it. From a baby, to 16 years old, his smile brought complete joy to my heart.
     As Ryan got older he loved adventures and seeing new places. He loved vacations and went on many of them with his dad and myself throughout the years. When on vacation with me, we would often fly. We went to the East Coast, to Disneyland many times, and to Hawaii. Every time we got to the airport Ryan would explode with excitement, which I loved to see. When we got on the plane, he would always pull out the bible he was given my his Aunt Leslie at his baptism. The first time he did this, I asked him why he packed his bible. His answer was simply, “I know nothing will happen to this plane if I have my Bible.”  He believed in God and really felt carrying the Bible would keep him safe. There was such a pure sweetness in him. We went to Disneyland last year…his bible again in hand.
     Being a mother, you always see the good in your child. No matter what was happening with him, I always saw his heart. His heart was pure. It was loving. It was giving. It was tender. It was vulnerable. Because of these qualities, I have always felt very protective of Ryan. Hearts this loving can so easily be hurt, and the last thing a mother wants is to see her child hurt. I often prayed for him at night, asking God to protect him, fill him, and guide him always. Because of his heart, it was easy to trust him, as I always felt his heart would lead the way. I would often tell him to listen to his heart, and follow where it led. Little did I know the kind of love he was spreading to all he met.
     His friends were from all walks of life. Ryan didn’t care if someone was an A student or if they were in trouble with the law. He didn’t care about color, race, gender, or the circle of friends someone had. He saw people’s hearts, and loved them for that, and that alone. He didn’t care what people thought of him, he was secure in himself. He told me once, “ If someone judges me wrong because of someone I am friends with, that is their problem, not mine. I know my heart, I know my friend’s hearts, and that’s all that matters.”  I had great respect for his beliefs and opinions, and because of that, I had a deep trust in him.
     Our relationship was sacred to me. We were open and honest with each other. We shared personal experiences and feelings, never judging the other. If he needed anything, he knew I was here. We had a pure and complete love for each other, and I will forever be grateful for that. He was literally a part of me physically, spiritually, and emotionally.
     I am not the same woman I was on Sept 21^st when I said goodnight to Ryan and told him I loved him for the last time. I know I will never be the same woman again. I don’t think you can lose a child and ever go back to the way you were. It is too life altering. I only pray that somehow I will endure this unbearable pain and emptiness, and rise again, becoming an even better person then I was before I lost him. This would be the greatest honor I could ever give my Ryan. I always gave him everything I had, and he knew it…….. so I wouldn’t dream of stopping now.
    

One Life Ends and Another Begins....

     My oldest daughter, Shawndre', just found out this week she is expecting her second child.  After over a year of trying, for some reason, God felt now was the time.  She is not sure of the due date, but had a test today, which says she is at least 6 weeks pregnant....taking it back to the time Ryan died.  She has been telling me she needed something happy, something to look forward to, in order to get through this pain.  It seems her prayers were answered, and perhaps her brother, Ryan, is looking after her.  As we talked about this, my little girl cried...she really feels Ryan is with her now.
     I am very happy for her and her growing family.  I am happy for our entire family...we all need joy at this time in our lives.  We need to see there is a morning light that will shine through, especially since the world seems so dark right now.
     I feel so many different emotions with this new blessing.  Happiness, sadness, confusion, gratitude, but most of all, joy.....joy for what Shawndre' is feeling in her heart.  I feel I am witnessing the circle of life....God has taken a life from our family, He has given a life back to us.  This does not wash away an ounce of the grief I feel, or lessen my intense longing to have my Ryan home with me again, but I know it has given Shawndre' something to rejoice in...and for that I'm so grateful.  It's one of my children that I feel will somehow be OK now.  She needed something good and happy to help her through, she asked....and she was heard. 
     I have said before that I have always felt Ryan was my "miracle baby", due to the situation at his birth.  I now feel, as does Shawndre', that she has been given a "miracle baby"....and somehow, Ryan feels very alive in this.

Hearts from Ryan....

     I have been feeling like Ryan is not near me for some reason.  A very sad, and lonely feeling.  I have not seen hearts in the skies, or had whispers from God, over the past week....it has left me feeling very isolated.  I have been sadly  wondering....where has my Ryan gone?
     Today I decided to go through my top drawer, to see if there was something in there from Ryan.  I found a basketball pin, which I immediately placed on the dresser next to Ryan.  I found three different cards he had given me, or made me.  Each card expressed his love, and on each card he drew a single heart, or numerous hearts.  From when he was very small, he would always draw a heart on his cards for me.  I always thought it was sweet, but now I realize it was to be his sign to me, his sign to all.  "One Love....One Heart." 
     I then noticed two necklaces hanging above my dresser where Ryan rests.  One was a necklace from Disneyland from about 7 years ago.  I had given Ryan money to buy himself something, and when he came out of the store, he had spent the money on a gift for me.  A typical, giving gesture by Ryan.  It was too small to wear, so I hung it up where it would be safe.  Next to it, was a necklace I had forgotten about.  Another gift from Ryan.  I don't remember if it was Mother's Day or my Birthday, but I suppose it doesn't matter.  Ryan was upset he couldn't get me a gift, and his brother Sean, who was working, could.  He wanted to be able to show me he loved me the same way Sean did.  So Russ took him shopping for me.  He bought a heart shaped necklace, with "Mom" written inside the heart.  He told me it said Mom for me, and the heart was because his heart belonged to me.  He took my breath away and I remember feeling so loved at that moment, and today when I found it, I felt even more loved.  Again, it was a heart from Ryan. 
     In my hallway are a couple of pictures Ryan made in elementary school.  I loved them so much I framed them.  One is a very modern looking picture with geometrical shapes, and a vase holding flowers in the middle....and on the center of the vase holding the flowers, a single heart.  I had never even noticed that heart being there before.  I saw it today.... I felt Ryan. 
     To top things off, looking into the sky this afternoon I saw three different hearts, all bunched in a group near each other.  I knew Ryan was letting me know he IS here.  He gave me an abundance of hearts today, and though they may seem meaningless to someone else, they mean the world to me.....and I think Ryan knows that.

A Mother's Love....

     I have spent much time today thinking about love.  In particular, the love a mother feels, and gives, to her child.  I believe this is the greatest earthly love there is...the love that is most reflective of the love God asks of us, and gives to us.  A mother falls in love the moment she knows a child is within her womb.  Everytime you hear the heart beat, or feel your baby move, you fall deeper in love.  Then the miracle of birth is given to you...an indescribable experience of pain and joy like no other.  During the painful moments and hours of labor, the love you have for your unborn child is what gives you the strength to endure the physical pain.  Already, you have an  unconditional love and determination to do anything for your child...to endure anything that is asked of you. 
     When your baby is born, you hold in your arms, what you consider to be a miracle.  Instantly, you feel an overwhelming love, one like you have never known.  A love so deep, you didn't even know it existed.  Your child has become the center of your world, your love, your life.  As your baby grows, your love grows.  You nurture, protect, and love like you have never done before.  These feelings, this love, fills every part of your being.  As your child continues to grow, because of this mother's love, you are always able to see into their heart, even when you don't like something they are doing.  You are able to move through any hurt to try and understand, because you know, and believe in their heart.  You see the good, and you never stop believing in that good, no matter what is going on.  You continue to love, protect, nurture, defend, and feel extreme pride.  You give them everything you have, selflessly, expecting nothing in return.  And if you are blessed to have more then one child, you feel the exact same feelings for each child....the heart of a mother grows with each child. 
     This kind of love is pure and genuine.  I believe it is given by God.  I believe it is the strongest and purest of loves on this earth.  Because of this, when a mother loses a child, the pain and loss are beyond words.  Unless it has happened to you, it is completely beyond comprehension.  Your child is your heart, your world...so when they are taken, a big part of your heart and world go with them.  The woman you once were is forever changed.  You don't know who you are anymore.  You are left empty, trying to make sense of it all.  Trying to pick up the pieces of your shattered world, when you barely have the strength to stand.  Trying to figure out how you will survive the anguish, and how much strength you have to endure it.  Trying to understand how you will ever find joy in the world again, when one that brought you so much joy is gone.  Trying to make sure your other children are OK, and know that your love for them hasn't changed....despite the fact your life has just been shattered, and love has been ripped right out of your soul.  You are left with your own pain and sorrow, but also the need to take care of your other kids....even when you feel you have nothing left to give.  Even when you question your ability to love again. 
     I am praying and trusting that my mother's heart  will guide me, in regards to my other kids, so they continue to know how much they are loved....even by their mother's broken heart.

Better Then A Hallelujah.....

Spent a lot of time driving today, thinking, trying to grasp this reality, feeling lifeless, feeling sad, and questioning if God sees my heart, since I don't seem able to verbalize it much at this time.  I had a CD on, and a song I love played, giving me extreme comfort at that moment.  It gives me hope that I am seen, loved, and my cries are heard.... even when they are silent.  In my brokenness, perhaps I do matter? 


God loves a lullaby,
In a mothers tears in the dead of night
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes.
God loves the drunkards cry,
The soldiers plea not to let him die
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes.

We pour out our miseries,
God just hears a melody.
Beautiful the mess we are,
The honest cries of breaking hearts.....
Are better than a Hallelujah.

The woman holding on for life,
The dying man giving up the fight
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes.
The tears of shame for what's been done,
The silence when the words won't come
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes.

We pour out our miseries,
God just hears a melody.
Beautiful the mess we are,
The honest cries of breaking hearts.....
Are better than a Hallelujah.

Better than a church bell ringing,
Better than a choir singing out, singing out.

We pour out our miseries,
God just hears a melody.
Beautiful the mess we are,
The honest cries of breaking hearts.....
Are better than a Hallelujah.

The Pain of a Stepparent....

As I walk through this painful journey, I seem to walk alone.  Grief is a very lonely journey and one you ultimately take alone.  You can have the support, love, and prayers of your family and friends, but still you walk alone.  Your heart is broken and no one can wash that pain away.  You must walk through it and trust that you will survive.  Trust that God is beside you, probably carrying you, as you know there is no other reason you should still be standing.  As I begin this journey I am very aware of the pain around me, even though I don't know how to help.  Ryan's brothers and sisters, his dad, his stepparents, his grandparents, his aunts, his uncles, his cousins, and his friends.  Today my heart is really consumed with the pain of the stepparent....probably because it's Wednesday, the day his stepdad found him.  Russ is always in complete anguish on Wednesdays, a pain I hope will ease for him with time.

Ryan was blessed to have a loving stepmom and stepdad.  Ryan was almost 8 when they came into his life.  I have always believed you can never have too much love!  I know the loss of Ryan has brought much pain to both these people.  I trust and hope Ryan's stepmom, Julie, is finding the comfort and support she needs to get through this.   My husband, Russ, is having a very hard time, and I am not sure how to help him.  I am not even sure how to help myself, so my inability to help Russ leaves me feeling useless.
Russ and Ryan were very close.  Russ's nature is calm, layed back, and loving...which is exactly what Ryan is drawn to.  Ryan never liked conflict, he was definately a child of peace.  Russ had a way of making Ryan smile and laugh when it seemed impossible for the rest of us.  Every morning Russ would make Ryan his hot pocket, or whatever else he may have wanted, and deliver it to his room as he went in to wake him up for school.  He would always tell Ryan he loved him, hug him, and even annoy him with a kiss now and again.  Ryan knew the good in Russ's heart, he saw it in the way he treated me.  The way he treats everyone.  Russ also saw the love in Ryan's heart and never hesitated to let him know that, to let Ryan know how proud he was of him.  For reasons unknown, Russ was chosen to find Ryan that painful morning of Sept. 22, 2010.  I can not imagine the shock, devastation, and anguish he felt as he called for help, called to tell me, and tried to help Ryan.  The horror he must have felt as he watched the medics do their best to help my little boy.  The feeling he has that somehow he did not protect my little boy for me.  I have tried to assure him that is not how I feel, or the reality of what happened, but his heart will only accept that when it is ready.

Although my heart, the broken heart of a mother, is still in disbelief, anguish, and bewilderment, I felt I needed to express my concern, helplessness, and complete empathy for the pain of a stepparent.  They should not be forgotten, and in my heart, they aren't. 

Perpetual Sadness....

The words of a beautiful song keep playing through my mind today...."When I am down, and oh, my soul so weary.  When troubles come, and my heart burdened be.  Then I am still, and wait here in the silence.  Til you come,  and sit awhile with me.  You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains.  You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas.  I am strong, when I am on your shoulders.  You raise me up, to more then I can be." 

I am trying to give myself hope that I will be lifted up, feel like more then I can be...but in reality, I am still waiting in the silence.  It's Ryan I want to come and sit with me, and the reality of him being gone, leads to perpetual sadness within.

When I go to bed at night, he is all that fills my heart.  I lay there, sometimes for hours, thinking about him and wondering if I'll hear him walk down the hallway.  When I awaken, the first thing I think about is Ryan, wondering if I will ever wake from this nightmare.  Throughout the day, Ryan is always with me.  In those moments when I feel brave enough, I let just a little bit of the reality that he's gone into my heart, and in that moment, I am instantly flooded with tears of anguish.  To protect myself, I put walls up immediately.  I can only take this in very small amounts at a time.  This is all I can endure.

God took my baby, He knew how deeply I loved Ryan, the pain this would cause, but He took him anyway.  I will never understand the reason.  I hope one day I can make something good come out of this tragedy, but never will I understand why.  I look at myself...the fairly serious health issues I have, and I wonder...why didn't God take me?  I'm 50 and at least I have had a chance to live.  I have lived long enough to have dreams, and the experience of chasing after them.  I have felt complete joy, and gut wrenching heartache.  I have lived.  Ryan...he was only 16 and his life was just beginning.  He was a few weeks shy of getting his driver's license, something he was so excited about.  He will never go to a prom.  He will never celebrate his High School Graduation.  He will never Skydive.  He will never go to college and persue whatever his dream was to become.  He will never graduate from college and know the indescribable feeling of "I DID IT!"  He will never travel to other countries.  He will never experience the complete happiness of looking into someone's eyes and saying, "I do."  He will never have children to love the way he was loved as a child.  He will never feel the joy of seeing his mom hold his child for the very first time.  Is a mother ever suppose to accept or understand this?  If so, how?

I know I should focus on what he did do, and perhaps one day I will.  God knows he did more good, understood more about real love in his short 16 years, then many adults ever accomplish or understand in their lifetime.  He knew what loving meant, how God says it should be, and he lived it.  I am extremely proud of him, and so incredibly grateful that God gave Ryan to me.   He allowed me to be the mother who would love Ryan like no other could.  That I was chosen, to love and nurture this unbelievably special child, was one of God's greatest gifts to me.  But at this moment in time, my heart aches to hold him again, to hear his voice, to see his smile, and for all he will never experience in this life.  And in my perpetual sadness all I can ask  is....why my Ryan, Why?

Random facts about Ryan....

~He was born on March 17, 1994 @ 10:45pm.
~The umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck 2x, so they had to reach inside to cut it as he was in major distress.  He was purple/blue when born and immediately put on oxygen.  I always felt he was my "Miracle Baby" .......I still feel this way.
~He was a quiet, peaceful baby.
~He was a happy toddler, always smiling.
~He use to call Kaitie, "My Kaitie baby".
~He loved scrambled eggs for breakfast when he was small.  Had to have them every day!
~He always told me he would live with me forever.
~He loved playing by himself when he was little.
~He went camping for the first time at 3 months old.
~My dad use to call him "the camper."
~He always loved the outdoors.
~One time driving over St Helena Mountain, he stuck his head out the window and said, "Nature always makes me feel better."
~His brother, Sean, was always his hero.
~He loved all of his brothers and sisters.
~He loved family vacations.
~He loved to fly places in airplanes, but felt nervous, so always carried his bible on every trip we took.
~He always loved going to Disneyland.  We have taken many trips there.  As he got older, he would take off with his older siblings while we were there, and really loved that.
~He loved his bed because I put two memory foam pads on it for him.
~He loved his bedroom, and even helped Russ a bit in building it.
~He fell in love with Hawaii when I took the kids in 2008.  He always wanted to go back.  We were planning to do that again next year.
~He loved swimming with the dolphins in Hawaii.
~He ate 2 pizza hot pockets every night before he went to bed.  Sometimes he would add a ChimiChanga.
~He ate a ham and cheese hot pocket for breakfast...loved it with a little OJ.
~He loved Steak and Baked Potatoes.
~He was very humble.
~He was very intelligent.
~He did not think he was anything special...just another person doing the best they could do.
~He did not judge people....he accepted everyone for who they were.
~He honestly loved all his friends unconditionally.
~He was a "mama's boy" and proud of it.  I was proud of it too.
~He could not stand it if I was crying...it would often make him cry too.
~He talked to me about everything, even the hard stuff.
~He use to tell me, and I use to tell him,  that he and I were alike in many ways and that's why we "got" each other.
~His little sister, Breanna, could make him smile when he was in his worst moods.
~He loved basketball...it was his passion and he was gifted on the court.
~He loved watching ESPN.
~He played one year of Football as a sophmore, and was moved to the Varisty team during the year.
~He loved watching the Wizard of Oz....he never outgrew it and would always let me know when it was on.
~He loved Christmas and the way the house looked and felt.
~He loved the Christmas Lights and outside decorations.  He would always tell me if I needed to add something to make it better.  Two years ago he said it was perfect.  I have never changed it since.
~He believed in God.
~He highlighted passages in his bible....all having to do with not judging others, not critisizing others, loving your enemies, and loving everyone the way we are told to love.  He lived out each and every passage he highlighted.
~He was carefree at times.
~He was a perfectionist.
~He would only let me cut his hair...he said I did it better then any place he could go.
~His spirit was gentle, tender, and giving.
~His heart was open, generous, nurturing, accepting, and completely loving.
~He knew how proud I was of him.
~He was my baby, my little boy, my Ryan....and he knew how much I loved him.