Ryan

We had sprinkled ashes around the farm on trees given as memorials, by the wind chimes Ryan had hung, and by flowers he had planted.  We want to take some to Wyoming and Florida also.  Ry was not a traveler and we couldn’t get him to go with us on trips, except for two to those spots.

He came along on our big family vacation to Siesta Key, and to the giant family trip to Casper in honor of Grandma Joan’s 80th birthday.  Both times, he tried to back out, but we were insistent.

We did our best to make him comfortable, in Florida we rented a large enough condo for him to have his own suite so he could have solitude when needed.

(He never knew that we almost Home Aloned him, my husband and I both drove away to pick up other family members to take to the airport, each thinking the other had Ryan!)

For the lake house birthday party, where relatives from all over the country gathered to share a large home that slept about 40, we knew that would overwhelm his sensory disorder. To help, we hauled a camper with us so he could have his own house away from the commotion when he needed quiet.

Both times, he surprised himself by having a blast. He loved family time and joined in on games and excursions, even one to Disney.  We were so glad that we had practically forced him to come along, and I will treasure that time with him forever.
Some of his ashes will be sprinkled in each place.

He was always my power washing buddy too, so next time I get that machine out, I want to shoot some ash across the drive way with the spray.  

I know, slightly odd, but he would have thought it was cool. 

His ashes hadn’t been delivered yet when I had the washer out recently, so I wrote his name with it for now.

More of the remains will be made into blown glass.  But most have been placed in this hand made urn.

A sweet friend from my book club invited me to the ceramic studio behind her home to pick out an urn crafted by her husband, Ed McCormick.  He does beautiful work and I was overwhelmed by his generosity.

They had sat out creamy and soft colored, elegant vases that would have matched my home perfectly.

But when I saw this one, I burst into tears, knowing that the floral-ish looking skulls around it were ideal for my boy.  He always liked to doodle skulls, some with top hats, some with roses.  I came across a few when I cleaned out his apartment.

The urn now sits next to a shadow box frame with Ryan’s portrait and his favorite matchbox car from childhood in it.  

I had planned on putting the angel I had made from Sugarwings’  “fairy building kit to go” in his room, but I like it here instead.  It is by a hydrangea dried from an arrangement sent to us.

When I think of something that I need to tell him, I write it down and put it in the urn.  Along with the notes, I added a silver skull ring that he liked to wear.

Ryan and I had what people might think were the most boring of conversations.  He and I told each other about the little things that happened during our days, interesting or not.  

So some of my notes might just be about cleaning out the fridge.  

But I know that he liked hearing about what I had been doing, no matter what it was.

It is rare to have someone in your life who never thinks you are monotonous when you ramble on about dull things.  Someone who actually wants to hear them. 

  
Other times, I write to him about how much I miss him, memories I had of him growing up, or something funny one of the dogs did.

The notes usually have a blurry spot or two where the ink was splashed with a tear.  But somehow, it does feel good to write my thoughts down and place in his jar.

Thank you Ed and Mellisa.

 

 

 

Ryan was helpful around the yard.  At first, I thought he was just trying to make things easier for me.

It would start with him keeping me company as I worked on something, and before I knew it, he had taken the shovel away to do the job himself.

Over the years, it progressed to him asking if I had a job for him on his day off.

I think he had come to enjoy gardening.  Or maybe he just knew that I loved it and he loved me, so wanted to help.

He built this entire sidewalk for me, one shovel full of gravel at a time.  As the rocks settled over time, twice, he took the truck to the  garden center, to buy more stone, and surprised me by touching up the balding spots.

The deep, dark pink rose bush is one that he bought for Mother’s Day two years ago.  He surprised me after planting it.

Lately, with my husband retired and Ryan working long hours at the nursing home, we got a lot of jobs done daily while he was at work.

Ry was always interested in seeing what we’d done, and would walk around the yard, complimenting the progress.  He told me that he liked to stand on his deck and look out over the yard and enjoy How pretty it looked.

I mentioned that the only thing we needed to complete the redo was some wind chimes or a fountain.

On Mother’s Day, he brought me these beauties, and he moved them from one end of the yard to the other, looking for the best spot to catch the most breeze.

The day he died, Rich and I spent much of our day in the gazebo, listening to the chimes.  The weather was ideal, there was a slight breeze making the soothing sounds pretty much continuous.  

Since then, caring loved ones have sent us some more sets to hang in the gazebo.  

We added some to a nearby branch, also.

Each has its own, soft set of notes that are slightly lighter  than the deep tones from Ryan’s gift.  The dogs run through the gazebo, wagging tails that make the chimes sing when there isn’t a breeze to to the job.

We spend time out there together, holding hands, drinking coffee in the morning or wine in the evening, listening, and thinking about our boy.