November 8, 1997; a Saturday, perfect for sleeping in. A ringing phone at 5:30 AM put an end to that notion. I could tell from the expression on my wife’s face that this was not good news; I convinced myself that her father, who had been in declining health, had passed away. Listening to one side of the conversation, it became obvious that something was horribly amiss. As it turned out, Ryan, our 29 year old son, had died in an apartment fire several hours earlier.
To go from something tragic, but expected, to something totally not expected, took my breath away. From this point, I was an adrenalized zombie, doing by reflex and rote the things that needed to happen; arranging travel, hotels, etc for us, and for the aunts and uncles and cousins who were coming, and trying to be of some comfort to my wife. After that, the packing, and travel to Oklahoma, where the services and burial were held. With help from friends, and members of our church, we managed to soldier through. There are parts of our lives from 11/97-11/98 that are just missing, though.
Being the stepfather, I often think that maybe if I’d been a better example, that if I’d been more caring at times (believe me, I should have), that somehow things would have been different. Ryan and I were on good terms at the time of his death; I’m grateful for that.
So, I’ll bring this rambling to a close with a little suggestion: if there’s someone you need to mend some fences with, do it - NOW. If you have friends or relatives spread across the miles, call them, email them, IM them, and tell them they matter to you. Finally, if you’re fortunate enough to live with them, give ‘em a big ol’ hug. We don’t know how long we may have that opportunity.
In Memory of Ryan, 5/29/1968 - 11/8/1997.
-k-
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2 Comments
Wooh, a good cry in the morning is a healthy thing, right? I sure hope so, because that is what I just did.
Being highly familiar with a sudden, gut-wrenching loss of a loved one, I know that there aren’t really words for this stuff. The closest thing I can think of is a line from the hiphop culture: I feel you.
I love you, guys.
Thanks, James. That hiphop line is a good one. I think that lots of the hiphop feelings are great; the accompanying music sometimes jangles my nerves, which is a purely generational affliction.
I appreciate your heartfelt words; and as I tell my stepdaughter regarding the grandkids, I’ll say to you: “Take good care of those little ones.” In both her case and yours, no exhortation by me is necessary.
-k-