This is a sad time and hopefully this site will help us all keep Ryan in our thoughts. Losing Ryan was like losing a piece of me. We were so alike in so many ways, but he was way more together than I am. His ability to wait until the last minute and pull it off was a special gift and he was a black belt master at it and I was an amateur. His spirit, drive and humor make it easy for people to love Ryan. I was looking forward to being his father in-law someday :) Ryan will always have a special place in our family and Lynn, Ronny D and Ross will always be part of our family and we think about them often. Fond memories that will always last.
Chris Murphy
Dear Ry,
In my seemingly never ending unpacking, I came across your 6th grade school work today. One exercise you did was an "I Am a Person Who..."
Here's what you said about yourself.
I Am A Person Who
Likes Music
Hates getting in trouble
can work well on computers
cannot stay focused very well
would never kill someone
would rather play than mow the lawn
loves to skate
wants to learn how to sign fluently and play guitar
used to be afraid of tornadoes
would be better off if I didn't procrastinate
is really good at hockey
gets really angry when I have a lot of work to do
"bugs" other people when I don't do things immediately
has the good habit of standing up for people
has the bad habit of being disorganized
wishes I would change the way I wait to do big projects for school
wishes I could change the way other people treat each other badly
never misses watching the TV show King of the Hill or The Simpsons
will someday be an All American linebacker for Texas A&M University
Finding these things makes me cry and smile both. Dad and I went through your box of Boy Scout camping gear tonight. We both cried at your bar of soap in the plastic container.
Love you, love you, love you
Mom
Dear Ry
3 years ago today we buried your body in the ground. The thought makes me cringe. At Rotary today, I turned to Debra and said "We buried Ryan 3 years ago today." and she said "I know."
I helped Dad a while at Oodles tonight and Audrey from diving came in. She reminded me who she was and we talked once again about her accident where you helped rescue her. Later when she was getting ready to leave, she came and found me, hugged me and said "I just want you to know I think about Ryan every day and I'll never forget him." We both cried.
Last night Krista Mensonides came by to check on me and said something similar. You are still loved and remembered by so many.
I remember about a year into your death I learned of a woman who died on the 3 year anniversary of her son's death. No one knew if it was intentional or just self medicating gone too far. I remember hoping I would be past the point of wanting to kill myself by the 3 year anniversary. I guess I am. I don't fantasize about it so much anymore but I also look forward to my time on Earth being over. The other night I dreamed I was in a plane that was going down. In the dream I said a quick prayer asking for an entry into Heaven and I actually felt excited that I was about to be with you.
Better get back to my unpacking chores.
Love and miss you so much
Mom
Ryan
Brendan posted this on his facebook yesterday from India. Made me cry but I loved it. I can hear the conversation in my head.
Brendan Cassidy said:
We were sitting in his car one night, and I told him I was scared for the future. He said, "Brendan, you don't have much fashion sense, but other than that you're pretty ok. I think you're gonna be fine." I haven't gained much fashion sense in the past three years, and I don't know if I'd call myself ok yet, but I'm working on it. Thanks for believing in me, Ryan. I can still feel you here.
So much love flowed our way yesterday. I am grateful for the many people who loved you and us.
My i-phone died on the 29th too. I'm bummed about that. Debra thinks maybe you caused it to happen - just messing with me from Heaven. If so, cut it out.
I love you
Mom
Dear Ry,
You left this world 3 years ago today. Amazing really. I didn't think I could survive three hours much less three years yet here I am - still kicking. We human beings are amazing creatures - able to bear the unbearable and keep going against all odds.
Dad and I are in a fancy overpriced resort in Napa Valley- our escape for this year. We didn't leave until today so we were in Modesto all morning. We have both cried a lot today. I think we did better in the prior two years because we were already somewhere else - somewhere isolated and far away.
Many of your friends have posted photos of you in their facebook profiles and many have changed their status to remember you in some way. Each one makes me cry but swells my heart with gratitude because they haven't forgotten you and pride that you were the kind of kid who touched lives in such a meaningful way.
Dad and I had a lovely dinner overlooking beautiful scenery. We pondered what you would be doing with your life if you hadn't been snatched away. No doubt something fun and exciting. We feel so cheated that we never got to see that happen.
This has been a hard week. We moved AGAIN on Monday. I have been surrounded by hundreds of boxes and chaos just like I was three years ago when I got that awful phone call that changed our lives. It's been a little de ja vu-ish. I am glad this terrible day is almost over for another year. It is incredulous that we will be staring our 4th year without you.
I had lunch last week with the mom of Alan Bautista, a 16 year old boy who died in a car wreck 6 weeks ago. My heart hurts for his mom and what she's going through. Life is going to be so hard for such a long time.
I learned a few days ago that Grace's brother, Marshall, from Wichita Falls died. He was a few years older than you and Ross. I can't stop thinking about Kim and Stuart and the disoriented, surreal place they are in right now. LIfe is full of suffering. Sometimes when I'm having a particularly hard day, I stop and remember that somewhere in our vast land another mother is learning that her child just died. It happens everyday to someone.
I hope there is a heaven and that you're reveling in all the goodness it holds. I hope somehow you know how much you were and are loved by all of us you left behind.
Dad, Ross and I, along with lots of others, love and miss you so much.
As sad as today is, it doesn't come close to comparing to the hell we were going through 3 years ago tonight. For the healing gift of time, I am grateful.
All my love
Mom
Dear Ry,
So many people who loved you and love us are remembering the third anniversary of your journey to Heaven. It means a lot to me that they continue to remember. Solange Altman sent the following to me. I think it's the first time I've seen it. She had sent an exceprt from it before but I never read the whole thing. It made me so proud of you, as I always have been and remain even in your death.
"Ryan was a friend to both my kids’, Nick and Tati Altman. But I really came to know him when he participated in Mock Trial. I was one of his Mock Trial coaches.
Last fall the Mock Trial team was in a tight spot. The competition was 2 ½ weeks away and we needed a student to portray an expert witness in the mock criminal trial competition. Mr. Beck said he thought he knew someone. That someone was Ryan. Even though he was involved in many other activities he agreed to help us because that was the kind of person he was - always willing to help.
He was given the materials & 2 days later he showed up for dress rehearsal--- prepared dapper in his suit. As the prosecution expert Dr. Kyle Killian, Ryan had to persuade the court that a stink bomb had the capacity to blow up a building. The science underlying his opinion was shaky. However once he took the stand Ryan dripped sincerity. He boldly asserted his position and steadfastly maintained it in a cool unflappable manner..
The other coaches, my husband Steve Altman, history teacher Steve Beck, and chemistry teacher Ron Vincent couldn’t believe what we had seen. We couldn’t stop smiling. Ryan’s poise & self-esteem gave the rest of the team more confidence.
We all had such high hopes for Ryan. I thought he would end up going to law school at some place like Duke or Yale. I could see him getting involved in politics and serving on the staff of some prominent politician then becoming a Congressman, or becoming a lawyer for some publisher arguing first amendment cases before the Supreme Court. He was the kind of kid you wanted to keep track of. We all wanted to know where he ended up--- hoping that we played some small part in helping him achieve his dream. His life wasn’t supposed to end like this.
But God had other plans for him. I have to believe that he was called for a special reason.
We are so sad that he has been taken from us. Our hearts are broken. The joy he brought to us, and his spirit have left deep impressions on our heart. We won’t forget him.
Que Deus tem em bom lugar. God keep him in a good place.
Lynn,
I came upon this site in February when I saw Ryan's rememberance in the ModBee. His joyful and warming smile instantly broke my heart and I couldn't help but look up what had happened to this young man who seemed to radiate with happiness. I am truly sorry for your loss. I have read your letters to Ryan and laughed at some of your memories and cried at most of them. While I was reading I couldn't help but feel as if I was intruding on something that was so personal and involved only you and your son. I stopped reading after that, but came back to this site about a month ago because I found myself wondering how you were doing. I sincerely hope that doesn't strike you as odd. It is just that your son's photo and your letters found a place in my heart.
I have noticed that in many of your letters you are counting how long Ryan has been gone and while I was reading last night I came across a passage that made me think of my grandmother who lost her youngest son 30 years ago and still cries. It also reminded me of you. Here it is, "...I would stay up all night and watch reruns of I love Lucy, and trying not to think of what had happened one week ago, then one month ago, then one year ago. It's a kind of coutdown, except you never get any closer to a destination. Each day sucks as much as the one before. You simply start to accept the general suckiness." My grandmother agreed. She said it sucks a billion times over and her life never truly "went" on as it should have. The sun rose and set like usual. She went on being a mother to my father and aunt, a wife to my grandfather, a grandmother to my cousins and me, but she could never reach that same level of happiness and content that she once had. It ceases to exist when once piece of the puzzle is missing and you are forced to create a new level of happiness or else you will drive yourself mad. She however disagreed with the acceptance part. She said that, while she has accepted that my uncle was never coming back, she stills finds it hard to accept that her child was taken from her.
Please forgive me if I have intruded on something that I shouldn't have. Once again, I am truly sorry for your loss and the world's loss because I gathered from your letters that Ryan was an assest to this world.
Dear sweet Ry,
I sobbed during church today as the SSP kids were commissioned for their mission trip next week. I watched them all standing at the front and remembered you, Brianna, etc standing in that same spot. It was like a dam broke. I cried and cried - those shoulder shaking, snorting sobs. And I can't seem to stop this afternoon. I don't cry much but I must have been over due. I miss you so very, very much. I miss your loud, joyful laugh. I miss your goofiness that added so much joy to our lives. I miss everything about you.
We're moving AGAIN next week. This will be the last time. I'm NEVER moving again. I hate the process and long to be settled once and for all.
Dad just called and needs me at Oodles so I must run.
All my love plus some
Mom
I read this passage in an Anna Quindlen book this morning. While talking about the last ordinary day before realizing her mother was dying of cancer, and life was changing forever, the protagonist said this and I said a silent "amen" to it. If I had Anna Quindlen's gift with words, I would have said it exactly the same way.
"I remember that the last completely normal day we ever had in our lives, my brothers and I, was an ordinary day much like this one, a muggy August into September weekday.......Afterward I wondered why I hadn't loved that day more, why I hadn't savored every bit of it like soft ice cream on my tongue, why I hadn't known how good it was to live so normally, so every day. But you only know that, I suppose, after it's not normal and everyday any longer. And nothing ever was, after that day. It was a Thursday and I was still my old self, smug, self-involved, successful and what in my circles passed for happy."
Dear Ry,
As I type this, fireworks are exploding all over town and I see them in my peripheral vision through the window. They make me miss you more than usual and usual is a lot. You loved fireworks. You loved 4th of July. Today I was a judge for the parade. As I drove downtown, I looked at Scenic Drive and remembered you, Dad and I walking from our house to downtown to watch the parade on July 4, 2007. Who would have ever known you had only 25 more days to live on this earth?
All your friends were off doing fun things this weekend - surfing in Santa Cruz, etc. I know you would have been with them and I would have been worried about you.
Mike R from Beyer and a bunch of boys came in Oodles today. It's sort of painful to watch them all sitting together; talking about girls; kidding each other - all the things you used to do with your buddies. I miss you so much.
It's so hard to believe you have been gone almost 3 years. Your friends are all growing up and you're still 18. Brendan leaves for India in the morning. It makes me nervous for him but I'm sure he'll be fine.
Love and miss you so much, sweet boy
Mom
Dear Ry,
It's a scorcher in the Great Valley of California today. Our first really hot day after a lovely, mild spring and summer. I'm trying to get all my chores done so I can go help Dad at Oodles.
The Glynn's good friend, Chuck Swanson, joined you in Heaven last Monday. His airplane crashed while he was flying over Oakdale. I went to his service yesterday. He was only 59 - young by most standards, though an old man when compared to your young life of only 18 years. I am sad for Chris. In just 3 years, he has lost both his grandparents, you, David and now Chuck. 5 people he loved very much. At only 21 he must be wondering what this is all about.
Brad Harden's parents stopped by Oodles last night and I visited with them a bit. Brad is in his third year at Annapolis. I remember how you and Brad were the only two boys in your class to graduate from La Loma with all A's and all O's. There were 4 girls but only 2 boys. I remember how you always tried to explain to me how straight arrow Brad was. You would always tell me how he parted his hair and tucked his shirt in. For a guy with shaggy hair like you, that parted hair thing was a confirmation of straight lacedness!
Dad and I got a lovely letter in the mail last week from the boy who received one of your scholarships. It made us cry but also made us so proud of you. He really got you even though he never knew you. Here's what Michael Kaiser had to say.
Dear Mr. & Mrs. Dickerson
Thank you so much for the scholarship you awarded me! It was such an honor that you gave me such a prestigious award. Thank you! Of all the scholarships that were given, the Ryan Dickerson Memorial Scholarship, to me, was teh one that most embodied what I try to pursue in my life. The characteristics your son had - kindness, enthusiasm, generosity, a love of life - are those that I have tried to develop. Everyday I put a smile on my face and try to be compassionate and understanding, like your son, because there is enough sadness in the world without me adding to it.
Although I only shared one year with your son, I heard about him a lot from friends and teachers. I never got the chance to meet him myself, but I was always hearing how awesome he was throughout my four years of high school. For example, during my senior year in Mrs. Johnson's English class, she told me that Ryan was the only student to argue with her that the novel Of Mice and Men could have turned out differently up until the very end. He was optimistic that the story could eventually have a positive ending. Mrs. Johnson teaches that from the beginning, one knew the book wouldn't end well. He didn't agree. Ryan viewed the novel with optimistic. I think that shows the kind of positive, optimistic person that Ryan was.
Again, I want to thank you for giving me such a prestigious award! And I promise I will continue to remain the person I am and try to uphold all the qualities that Ryan possessed.
Sincerely
Michael Kaiser
I love that story about your optimism. I never knew that particular anecdote but it is so characteristic of your sunny spirit, always seeing the best in others and having confidence things were going to be good.
We miss you so very much. July is looming. My most "hatiest" month. I really can't believe the 3rd anniversary of your death is upon us. Time does fly and that gives me encouragement that every day that passes is a day closer to when we'll be together again.
love you so much
Mom
Dear Ry,
I feel lighter than normal today after a dream "visit" from you last night. In my dream, you walked through a door, wearing a bright orange shirt and a big grin. I called out excitedly, "Ry! I have missed you so much!" and then I went toward you. Then the dream ended. But it was great while it lasted and honest to Pete, today, I feel as if I have been with you.
Casey Reed and her twin sister and mom came into Oodles on Monday. We talked about you a lot. Casey talked about how you could get by with anything in schoool because the teachers loved you and anything you did - like roaming around the room during class- was forgiven because it was "just Ryan". Then her mom told me of a friend of hers who lost a child a few years ago when the daughter was 16. Casey said "Ryan knew her. She went to MoHi freshman year before transferring to Hughson." Then she said "In fact, Danielle was in love with Ryan. She had the biggest crush on him after having Health with him that first year. She would always ask me about Ryan when I saw her." I reached out and touched Casey on the arm and said "well, just think, now they are together in Heaven." She excitedly said "That's exactly what I said when I heard the news about Ryan! I said Now Danielle can hang out with Ryan like she always wanted to." Somehow that thought brought me a bit of happiness.
Ryan Merchant came into Oodles last night. He just graduated from Chico and we talked about how time flies. I told him it seems unreal that you have been gone almost three years. He agreed and said "It seems like I was hanging out with him just the other day."
I love and miss you so much buddy.
Mom
Hello sweet boy,
Life continues to be super busy for the little wounded tribe of Dickersons. All three of us are working long and hard. I at my day job, then at Oodles in the evenings and on weekends; Dad and Ross every day at Oodles. It's fun though and rewarding. And it takes our minds off our enormous sorrow that never seems to go away; just recedes into the background from time to time. Ross is the old Ross again while at Oodles. He's loud and funny and good with customers. One day last week he emailed to me a photo of a little tow headed blonde boy about 5 years old. Ross had taken his photo because he looked so much like Ross did as a little boy. And he really did. Yesterday our chairs came in (we had been using loaners until the right ones arrived) and Ross made all the Oodlers and me sit in a chair across from him and try them out. He is having fun and I'm enormously grateful for that.
Last night Dad and I slipped away for a quick dinner downtown. We ran into Mrs. Malekos-Quick at The Barking Dog. She came over to us and talked about you for a long time. She said how special you were and that she thought you could have been the President. She then said something that was very true but I had never given words to. While talking about us being back in Modesto, she said "It must have been hard to live somewhere where no one knew Ryan." And she is right but I had never really thought about it that way.
We went to MoBand on Thursday night. It was bittersweet being there without you. During the Star Spangled Banner I could feel you with me. And throughout the night I could almost see you sauntering over with some cute girl in tow. It was MoBand where I met Natalie for the first time. I remember exactly what you were wearing that night. You brought her over to our blanket and introduced her to us.
Both Annie and Tabby have graduated and are on their way. Tabby was in Oodles last night with Brianne and Brianna celebrating her last night of childhood. She starts a real job as a grown up on Monday. Time marches on without you, as preposterous as that seems.
On Wednesday, a 16 year old YES Co kid from Newman died in a car wreck on his way into town. My heart hurts for his parents. I tried calling his mom yesterday but spoke with the aunt instead. I'll call her again after the services. That is when she will need me most. And then in today's paper there is the story of a 22 year old from Arnold who died in Afghanistan. More heart break. Every day some mother loses her child and joins us on this awful, awful journey.
I miss having you here to be a part of our summer.
All my love
Mom
Dear Ry,
I feel so guilty that I don't write to you very often anymore. My life is so incredibly busy. I'm working my day job which is busy enough but then I go to Oodles and help Dad. I'm working lots of long hours. I'm less sad than I've been in a really long time so I'm grateful for that. I wish you were here to experience Oodles with us. You would love it. Mallory and I talked about what you would be like as an Oodler. She said "I can just see him. He would take a rag and act like he was going to wipe things down but really he would be looking into everyone's cups, seeing what they got. And we would have to constantly watch him to make sure he didn't put his hand in the toppings to get M&M's or the other candies." I laughed because she was right. You would have been good for business because you were such a chick magnet but you would have visited more than you worked, I suspect. One of our Oodlers is really interested in you. I told both Mallory and Natalie that she was likely to ask them all about you and they both said "She already has!" I like for people to be interested in you.
We gave your scholarships and character awards a couple weeks ago. It's always hard to go on the MoHi campus but we do it. I didn't know any of this year's winners but Jackson Leverone's little sister won one of the character awards. Her mom wrote me a really nice note about how honored they were for her to win it and how much Jackson liked you. She said both Jackson and Stephen C told her you were one of the nicest kids at school in spite of being cool & popular. I was always proud of you for being that way.
Yesterday I drove to Sacramento and gave the sermon at our old church there. Kathi invited me to speak on "Choosing Life" so I talked about how horrific our loss was and how I really didn't want to continue living myself after losing you. It went fine. Afterward an old guy fro the choir came up to me and said "I just lost my sister so I know what you're going through." I was gracious but I really wanted to say "no you don't. Losing a sister who had lived into her 70's or 80's is a far cry from losing an 18 year old son." I didn't though. I was nice. You would have been proud of me.
Ross ran into John Paul Cavialli at the DMV on Friday. He just returned from the Marines and hadn't heard about your death. Ross said John Paul cried. They sat together and talked for a couple of hours. Ross gave him his Ryan bracelet.
Lots of your friends come into Oodles to say hi and buy a yogurt from us. Even people I don't remember will say "I knew Ryan". We have your photos on the bulletin board and Mal made it look really cute. The Ryan section says "Our Honorary Oodler. Ryan Hunter Dickerson. Always Remember"
Saturday was the 34 month anniversary of your death. It's amazing you have been gone almost 3 years. It's even more amazing that we still hurt as badly as we do. We are highly functioning but we miss you so much. Every day is one day closer to being with you again.
Love you so very much sweet boy
Mom
Dear Ry,
My what a couple of weeks we've had. We opened Oodles on May 3 - two weeks ago tomorrow. It's gone amazingly well. As usual, our fabulous friends have been very supportive, becoming repeat buyers of fro-yo and there have been lots of lots of customers who aren't our friends so that's very encouraging. It's been a lot of work. I have been working my day job, then rushing over to help Dad until closing and helping all weekend. No exaggeration, I've worked 16 or 17 hours a day just about every day since May 3. It's been fun and exhilarating but I'm also tired. I'm sort of in that over the top tired stage where I might put the milk in the dryer, rather than the refrigerator, and never realize it!
Dad was gone for 3 days last week and I was in charge. That was a little stressful since my day job is super busy right now too. Dad was in Portland at YogurtU. You'll be happy to know he graduated and is now back.
We have your picture and the Ryan brochure tacked up on the bulletin board in Oodles. Marcia H is convinced you are a part of Oodles since it has gone so well and been such a happy project. We have hired a great group of high school kids to help us. I really love every one of them. A couple are especially interested in you and your story so of course, I gladly tell them all about you.
A lady came by during the first week with her preschooler and his class. She asked Dad if he was "Ryan's dad". When Dad told me about it on the phone, he stopped talking mid-sentence and I knew he was crying. I asked him if he cried talking to her and he said "not this much". Turns out she was familiar with you because of the tree in the library. Her child's pre-school class visits there too.
I like to think your spirit is everywhere at Oodles. Last week I bought Fruit Loops for a topping since someone had requested it. As I was putting them in the container, I told Patrick, one of our Oodlers, that you loved Fruit Loops but I would never buy them for you and you had to get your sugar cereal fixes at the Luty's or at Gran's. A few minutes later, I was walking out the door and found a penny. Perhaps a sign from you saying "Way to go mom with the Fruit Loops."
I so wish you were home for the summer, working side by side with us, attracting all the cute girls in town. You would be good for business.
Last Sunday was Mother's Day - an awful day for me. Dad ignored it, thinking that the best approach. Ross finally called me at 3:30 pm with a happy Mother's day wish. The only cards I got were from Granddad, Bryan, Mallory and Aunt Les. Bryan's and Mallory's meant a lot to me. You were always the sweet, thoughtful one in our family on Mother's Day. My last Mother's Day present from you was my i-pod. I have kept it even though it no longer works. I think Mother's Day is as hard as Christmas or Thanksgiving. I feel so cheated in the mother category of life. I"m glad the day is over for another year.
Mallory left this message for me on facebook this morning.
"What if he didn't really die, but rather had to fake it because it had some greater mission or duty? Wouldn't that make us feel a little better about the situation to know he's living, even if it's not in our lives? Then I thought well maybe that's what Heaven is, you know? Maybe we think he is dead but really he is as alive and happy as can be, just somewhere else. I am sure you have exhausted that thought in the past thirty-four months, but it's like I just had a light bulb moment. It was like it was a little reminder from Ryan, not to be sad for him because he isn't dead; his spirit is very much alive. If anything, he should be sad for us."
I really like that thought. It's sort of the way I have to believe in order to survive. Dr Ludlow said to me the other day, when he had my mouth full of stuff and I couldn't respond....."I think Ryan is probably going to the Harvard of Heaven and doing important work there." I really like the idea that you're just away, still being Ryan, still blessing those around you with fun and frivolity and the Ryan glow.
Dad and I miss you so very much. Just yesterday we talked about how much we miss what would have been with you - adult friendship, being grandparents to your children, taking trips together, etc. It's painful to even think of all we have lost.
But we trudge on and hope this life really is just a pit stop on the way to something way bigger, better and more permanent.
All my love
Mom
Dear Ry
I just watched the tribute video on this website again for the first time in a longtime. It makes me smile and cry. It captures you so well. And I miss you so much.
I can't help but wish you were here to help us launch Oodles. You would be so excited and enjoy working there, I think. We feel sad doing something so exciting in our family without you being a part of it.
Yesterday Debra and I walked in a 5k for the Bette Belle Smith Day of Service. When I picked up my registration packet, my number was 1689. I showed it to Debra and Marcia and reminded them of your birthday. The 16th day of the year '89.
We vacated the Sacramento house this week. Finally. It has been a long and laborious process. Cleaning out your bathroom drawers was so hard. I finally away your toothbrush and your toiletries. I threw away all your ashtma medicines and your Advil and your cough drops. I threw away the magnesium tablets that made you have weired and vivid dreams. I thought as I did it that I was throwing away the last of your DNA. It was hard.
This morning's Bee is full of swim stories. Meghan Devlin won three state titles swimming for the JC. MoHi won the conference. In my mind's eye, I can see you running around the pool carrying the MoHi flag, being the obvious choice to carry your team's flag as you all celebrated. Mike Tesluk was barely beat out in the 500 - your event - so I could see you laboring through all 20 of of those long laps with Brendan and Nora flipping the numbers for your laps. Many of your friends and your friends' younger siblings took home awards. I wish I could call and tell you.
There are so many things I want to tell you every day. Vas has chosen Harvard. We've booked Lewis Black for the Gallo Center. Kendra Mensonides is getting married. Rigney is going to be dad. Ramada is home on leave from the Marines. Ross has a new friend named Dannon. When Dad said "like the yogurt?" Ross said "Yes, in fact she has a tattoo of a strawberry on her butt. Get it? Dannon, fruit on the bottom?" You would get a kick out of that.
I love and miss you more than words can say.
Mom
Hey there Ry,
It's Saturday morning after a long, tiring week. I'm exhausted yet I have to go back to Sacramento and finish the packing up of the big house so the movers can take all our things next week and store them. I dread the day.
I've had laryngitis and a chest cold for a week so that is probably adding to my fatigue and exhaustion. I am also having vacation envy. All my friends are in vacation mode and we have no vacation planned in the foreseeable future. As much as I love my new job, I'm tired and need a little break.
Dad is just days away from opening Oodles. They painted this week and are finishing up the floor. It looks fabulous. Can't wait for it to open. Dad has life in his eyes again, after them being flat for such a long time. I'm grateful for this new adventure.
Two Ryan things happened to me last week. 1) I was meeting with a woman who wants to rent the Gallo Center for an event. She is Mrs. Malekos-Quick's sister. As I was getting ready to leave her office, I told her to tell Mrs. M-K hi for me. She hesitated for a moment and then stepped into her office for privacy and said to me..."I just have to tell you how much she thought of your son. She was crushed about his death. She told me that she has been teaching GATE kids for a long time but Ryan was a special one. She said to me "He had such charisma. He really could have been the president, Cindy!" Of course that made me so very proud.
Then on Thursday, I was the guest speaker for a professional women's group. After my talk, a lady came up to me to say she has a son who is an IB student and a water polo player. Then she said "Kyle is mentoring him and he is doing it in honor of Ryan." That, too, made me happy.
We were at a dinner party last night and one of the other guests was talking about one of his good employees and he turned to me and said "She was good friends with Ryan." I love it when people still say your name. It happens less and less with time.
It's still so hard for me to hear others tell stories of their kids and grandkids. I guess I'm going to struggle with that for the rest of my life.
I miss you more than words can say, bud.
all my love
mom
Hey there buddy,
I had lunch with Bryan today. He was telling stories about when the two of you worked together at Hollister. He laughed through them all. I said "I miss him so much." He said "Yea, I miss him so much too. I've been missing him more than usual these last couple of months." He wishes he could call you about college stuff and girl stuff. I told him it makes me sad that you were cheated out of life. He said "I think life was cheated out of Ryan." Dad feels the same way. I hope Heaven exists and is a place full of meaningful work, full experiences and joy. You deserve all those things.
So many things happening here on Earth that I want to tell you about. Tim Herrmann won a Fulbright Scholarship to study in Colombia, South America. Chris G turned 21 and is a full fledged adult. Ross found a brand new pair of New Balance 992's that the two of you loved for only $5 in a thrift store. He bought them even though he nor Dad wear a size 9. Just couldn't pass them up!
I miss you so much sweet boy.
All my love
Mom
Dear Ry,
Today is Easter - our third one without you. It's been a cold, rainy, gray day. I have felt melancholy most of it. I went to church alone (Dad went to the sunrise service at 6:30 am since it was outside and allowed him to "go to church" without going in the church.) He still isn't up to going in the sanctuary. I thought of Easters gone by. We spent two of them in Hawaii and went to services on the beach. That was very cool, wasn't it? And then I thought of the year Tyler played the trumpet at our church's sunrise service. You and I huddled together in the cold. I have a picture of you and Debra sitting together that morning.
I bought an Easter lily in your memory and meant to take it by the cemetery to leave on your grave. By the time our lunch guests left, it was raining and I was tired and thus never took it by. It makes me sad to go to your grave at any time but especially when it's cold & rainy.
I had an exhausting week last week and it's finally catching up with me today. I wish I had tomorrow off. As Jimmy Buffet would say "I must confess I could use the rest."
I'm getting really tired of this prolonged moving exercise. Every week we go to Sacramento and pack more boxes. We leave some there for the moving van to pick up and take to storage in a few weeks. We bring some of them back here and unpack them. We're getting an A+ in recycling. Yesterday I packed all the photos and awards on your wall. I looked through the scrapbook Peggy made you for graduation. I sobbed when I put it in the box. Ross wandered in about that time and just held me while I cried. Our little wounded family misses you so much.
Last night we were at the Gallo Center for an event. There was a pre-concert reception for all the doctors in town. We were talking with some old neighbors who have boys similar in ages to you and Ross. They were talking about breaking out the champagne and doing a victory dance recently when they wrote their last tuition check. They went on & on about it and the whole time they were talking, it felt like someone had stuck a knife in me and was grinding it deeper with every word. Oh what I would give to be able to complain about tuition payments for your college education. People don't mean to be insensitive but they are. And I know I was too before your death.
In my packing yesterday I came upon a pair of your old sleeping pants. I decided to keep them and sleep in them myself. I'm wearing them now. They have poker/Las Vegas motifs on them. I remember how you looked in them, standing in the kitchen, all sleepy with bed head, looking in the pantry, deciding which cereal you wanted.
Last Thursday, I was sitting at my desk when my cell phone rang. Caller i.d. said it was Stephanie so I expected her on the other end. Instead it was Vas. I knew when I heard his voice that he had good news. Sure enough, he was calling to tell me he got into Harvard!!!!! I was so excited! I screamed my congratulations to him and then I burst into tears. Tears of happiness for Vas; tears of pride for this special, sweet, extraordinary kid who has been so focused and worked so hard; tears of pride for Gregg & Stephanie knowing how happy they must feel; tears of regret that I couldn't pick up the phone and call you to share the good news. You would be SO PROUD! I can just hear your response. I was an emotional mess for a few minutes. Our whole family is incredibly proud of him. Both Ross and Dad called later that afternoon to offer their congratulations. Yesterday Vas & Stevie helped Dad unload the U-Haul. So we've got a Harvard man helping us schlep our furniture around.
I love you so much, bud. I want you back. This isn't the way my life was supposed to turn out.
All my love,
Mom
Dear Ry,
Even though I don't write to you daily anymore, a day never passes without there being something I want to tell you or share with you.
Last Monday, Steve totaled his Acura but fortunately walked away unscathed. A couple hours later, our friend, 73 year old Bill Foltz, was hit by a pick up truck while riding his bike. He died a little while later at the hospital. Dad and I went by to see his wife, Ann, later that same night. We sympathized with the stunned state of shock she was in. Her day had begun like any other and before it was over, her life had changed irreversibly. A stark reminder how precious and precarious life is.
I often recollect the day you died. I spent the day alone since Dad was in Yosemite. I went for a pedicure and a massage; went to Target (I think I was in Target when you actually died, as I recreate the day in my mind); unpacked boxes and put things away. I remember feeling melancholy all day. I didn't really know why. Now I wonder if my psyche was being prepared for the storm that was about to overtake my life.
We have found someone to lease our Sacramento house. Hallelujah! It's a sad situation though. They are a wealthy couple who own a lovely, big home in the Fabulous 40's but the husband has been diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's disease. They need a one story house with big wide doors and open spaces. Our house is perfect. They are going to sign a two year lease with an option for additional years and stay there until his days on this earth are over. We met them yesterday and instantly liked them. The husband is a sweetheart of a man and it makes me sad that he has that awful disease. They also lost a son a few years ago. Their son was 38. We shared our stories of losing our boys. So now our big, beautiful house will once again be a house of suffering. The wife is visibly grieving this terrible turn their lives have taken. The husband is much more gregarious. Even though we will have to do the actual suffering from the disease; she will suffer watching him deteriorate and ultimately leave her. I hope our house wraps them in its love during their hard days like it did for us.
Now that we're back in Modesto, I have once again begun going to church at our old church. It's nice to be back. I feel loved and welcome there. It's also hard. I still sit with the Pughs - sans kids now. Tyler and Brie are both at IU. You're in Heaven. Today Susan and I both teared up remembering how our two families sat together in the same general area every week. She talked about how you would rest your head against the pew in front of us to "rest your eyes" a bit and how you would "stretch" your arms and yawn. Then we talked about how you ALWAYS went to the left altar railing to pray after communion. Today was communion Sunday and it made me miss you more than ever.
After church, our friend, Olive, thanked me for my letters to you in this blog. She told how she had learned a lot about how to talk to others who have suffered a big loss and put the new knowledge to work with a distant relative who lost a 19 year old son last year. She asked his mom to tell her about him and the mom did. Later Olive heard from someone else how much the mom appreciated that. I'm so glad I've been able to pass along some hard won wisdom. And fortuitously she told me this in front of someone who has been one of my harshest critics about pouring out my feelings in a such a transparent, raw fashion.
Spring has sprung in Modesto California and I wish you were here. You always loved spring. Dad told me a couple days ago that he had been on the verge of tears all day. I said "Because this spring weather reminds you of Ryan?" and he said yes. So many good memories.
We love and miss you more than words can say.
All my love
Mom
Dear Ry,
What was I thinking? Tonight Dad and I bought tickets and attended the Naval Academy Glee Club performance at the Gallo Center. I hadn't really thought about it being 60 young men your age. Then there they were - all that youthful, male exuberance that I miss so much. I looked at every one of them and thought about you. I almost had a panic attack and thought of rushing out of the theater. After it was over Dad said "You know what I hate about things like this?" and I said "yes, it reminds you of Ry." We were both feeling the same thing without saying anything to each other.
I had lunch with Marcia today and had a tearful meltdown at the Barking Dog. As much as I love Tim and Leslie, I can't bear to hear about their successful lives. They are off doing the things you should be doing. I apologized to Marcia for not being able to ask about them and hear of their adventures. She looked at me with such pity and compassion in her eyes and said "I know you can't. That's why I don't talk about them to you." And I cried.
Just when I think I've turned some enormous corner and gotten past the worst of the sadness and longing, I have a few days where the pain is still palpable and I miss you so much it physically hurts. I am jealous of parents who have all their children. When I am on the precipice of falling into that abyss of self pity and loneliness, I remember that every single day some mom loses a child. Somewhere another family is beginning this awful journey we have been on for almost 32 months.
Twice in the past week, I have stumbled into conversations with Mormon men who brought me comfort with their unwavering, unquestioning faith. My faith is no long either of those things so it's reassuring to find someone who has it - whether what they believe is true or not. Last Saturday I saw the Ludlows. We chatted a while and I said "I miss Ryan so much." and Dr.Ludlow said "How awful would it be if you didn't? Good point. I guess if I hadn't loved you so much I wouldn't miss you so much.
But love you I did and I still do. And I want badly to believe those Mormons know of what they speak and we'll be together again soon.
All my love
Mom
Dear Ry,
Dad left for Texas today to check on Granddad one more time before Oodles opens and he's working 7 days/week. Poor Granddad is confused and disoriented most of the time now. Makes me sad. Getting old is for the birds. I hope I never do.
I have been praying for an answer to our housing woes and this week we got half our woes resolved. Our friends, the Ruuds, who moved to Pennsylvania a few months before you died still have a small garden home in Modesto. They have offered it to us on a "house sitting" basis until we figure out what we're doing permanently. The big house still hasn't sold or leased but I feel good knowing we have a place to stay in Modesto for the time being. On Wednesday, Dad, Ross, Bryan, Chris, BunBun and Cole are going to move some of our furniture to Modesto. This is the first time we have moved ourselves since 1980. My how the mighty have fallen.
I spent much of the evening packing kitchen things. I couldn't help but think of those mid-July 2007 days when I was unpacking and putting our kitchen together. Just days before you died and our world shattered. I was listening to I Am Charlotte Simmons on my i-pod. I never finished that book after you died.
On Tuesday I gave my new member talk at Rotary and talked about how my life is now divided into two parts - Before Ryan Died and After Ryan Died and how never again will everything be right in my world but I'm doing the best I can to redeem your death for something positive.
On Wed night at the Gallo Center, a couple approached me and introduced themselves. The wife shyly told me her son was a friend of my son Ryan's. You could tell she felt uncomfortable saying your name and was worried she would upset me. If only people knew - it upsets me more to NOT say your name. It was Alex Negranza's mom and she was very sweet. She told me how Alex got tattoos to remind him of you. (Several guys did that) It does my heart good when people talk about you.
Earlier in the week, Bryce and Ethan left a facebook message for me asking for a Ryan bracelet. You are still loved and missed by many, sweet boy.
Seems there's never a shortage of opportunity for me to reach out to other bereaved moms. Last week I wrote to a 78 year old mom whose 53 year old son died about a month ago. It doesn't seem to matter how old the "child" is - they are still your child and it's a loss like no other.
Ross and I went out for pizza tonight and he talked about how he's glad he came home from North Carolina when he did because it gave him several months with you that he wouldn't have had. He said he thinks "the supernatural was at work".
We love & miss you so much, bud
Mom
Dear Ry,
We have just returned from a day in El Dorado County wine tasting for Brianne's 21st birthday celebration. Adela and Tabby were there. Ross went with us and Connor was there with one of his friends, along with Brianne's extended family. A couple of times during the day, I had to ward off the sadness that threatened to overtake me as I thought of Brianne's big birthday without you. She was always 10 days younger than you; now you are forever 18 and she's passing you by.
I am super stressed over our real estate woes. I don't know what to do. Sell our house at a huge loss? Rent our house for a few years at less of a loss? Rent a small house or apartment in Modesto? Buy a house in Modesto? Store our stuff? It's complicated and depressing. I keep praying about it but as the norm has become, God is silent. I think he's forgotten about me altogether. We have to do something soon because Dad's new business will be opening in a little over a month and we will both need to be in Modesto. Aye yae yae! What to do?
Dad is going to Texas next week to check on Granddad one more time before becoming consumed with his new business 7 days/week. Poor Granddad is struggling. He is very confused and disoriented most of the time when we talk to him. Getting old is the pits. At least you never had to have that happen to you.
I miss you so much. Last night we went to a Beatlemajesty concert at the Gallo center. It was a fund raiser for Royal Family Kids Camp - the camp were Dad volunteered the last two summers. The Beatles tribute band was great and we had fun. When they sang the "They say it's your birthday...happy birthday to you..." song, I almost started to cry remembering how you and Dad sang that together every time someone had birthday - complete with air guitar. Our lives have so much less fun and joy in them with you missing.
You were a special, special kid Ryan Dickerson. And I miss you with every fiber of my being.
Love
Mom
Dear Ry,
Well the Dickerson birthday marathon is over for another year, thank goodness. I turned 52 today. So weird to think I'm that old. Cody Howell also celebrated his birthday today. I got over 110 happy birthday messages on Facebook. Many of them from your friends. I was thinking a few minutes ago how blessed I am to have all of those kids in my life even though in a tangential sort of way. You continue to bless my life even in your death through the many friendships & relationships you cultivated during your brief stopover in this life.
Last Tuesday, on your 21st birthday, we dedicated your Eagle Scout fountain to your memory. Dad and I purchased a lovely sign and the City of Modesto allowed us to have it placed there. We had a little ceremony at 11am. Quite a few people came. A bunch of Scout folks; your firends, our friends,Ross' friends, church friends, etc. We continue to be humbled by the outpouring of love for our family. Mayor Ridenour spoke; Dad spoke and I spoke. I re-read my comments from your Court of Honor in 2004. Here's what I said back then and re-read on Tuesday.
"I read once that a pushy mother is the next best thing to a good education. My name is Lynn Dickerson and I am the pushy mother in Ryan Dickerson's life.
I am also the very proud mother. Today is a special day as we celebrate the great accomplishment of Ryan becoming an Eagle Scout.
All mothers think their children are special, or they should, and I'm no exception. But Ryan really IS special, mother's bias aside. He always has been. Some of us go through life stumping our toes all along the way and finding the bumpiest route to travel, it seems. Ryan, on the other hand, leads a charmed life. Things just always seem to work out for him. And I think it's because he has such a big heart and is such a good person through & through.
Ryan has played sports all his life. He's never been the best athlete on the team but at home we have a whole drawer full of awards he has won for "having the most heart" on the team, trying the hardest, having the best attitude on the team, showing leadership, etc. The things that really count in life, long after the final score is recorded on a scoreboard. And I'm very proud of him for being that kind of person.
I'm also proud of him for his kindness and his ability to make and keep friends. Our family has moved twice in Ryan's life. Once when he was in 2nd grade and again when he was beginning 6th grade. Moving is hard and scary and it was both of those things for Ryan, the person in our family who least likes change. But both times, he quickly adapted and made friends right away. Lots of friends. And then as soon as he was one of the guys, he began looking out for the new kids and the kids who had no one to sit with at lunch.
Among our family and friends, we refer to Ryan as our absent minded professor. He's smart as a whip but he can be just a tab bit distractible. He has been able to explain Einstein's Theory of Relativity since he was about 6 years old but in elementary school he lost so many pairs of glasses, we finally just let him stop wearing glasses and cope with his near sightedness.
He worked hard to become an Eagle Scout, and even when he was tempted to give up and his schedule was too full, he persevered. He was almost a full year behind his peers in Boy Scouts when we moved here. Our friend, Rick Serpa, encouraged him to join Troop 49 and he did. And then he had to really hustle to catch up to his buddies but he did. That's the kind of person Ryan Dickerson is.
On behalf of our family, thank you for being here today and thank you to the many of you who helped Ryan get here. When you live somewhere far from your family like we do, your friends become your family. And Modesto has been a great place for our family because of all of you.
So Ryan, congratulations and please know just how proud your Dad and I are of you. God blessed us good wehn he gave us YOU!"
It's uncanny to read those words again -almost 6 years later. I still wonder if God made you the way he did since he knew you weren't here for long. Guess we'll never know in this life.
Many of your friends changed their Facebook pictures on your birthday to one with you in it and wished you a happy birthday in their status line. That meant a lot to me. You are still loved and remembered by so many. I cried more on your birthday than I have in months. I miss you so very much.
Love you dearly sweet boy,
Mom
Happy birthday Ry,
21 years ago this morning our little family awoke with anticipation and excitement. We were having a baby! We weren't sure if you were a girl or boy but we knew our lives were changing forever one way or the other. I worked until 11am; got my hair cut at noon; reported in to the hospital at 1pm and they started labor induction. At 5:55pm you were born - a boy!!! It was a joyful day. And the beginning of 18 years, 5 months and 13 days of joy, fun, and more love than the law allowed.
Now here we are facing our days without you - doing our best but still struggling to carry on with such a gaping hole in our family. There are no words to describe how much we love & miss you and how much we hurt that you are gone.
Before I got out of bed this morning, I "talked" to you in my head - wishing you a happy birthday and telling you how much I love and miss you. You knew that on earth; surely you know it in Heaven. I hope so.
Yesterday Dad and I went to a car wash that was raising funds to bury a 17 year old girl who was beaten and raped in a park last week. Her mother's picture is on the front page of the paper today and she is quoted as saying "I just want her back. I just want her back." It gave me chills because I remember saying those exact words over & over those first few weeks & months. As Dad and I sat in line waiting for her friends to wash our car yesterday we commented on how much worse it would have been to be forced to wash cars to raise the money to bury you. And to imagine the fear and pain she felt in the last minutes of her life. As I always remind myself, no matter how bad we have it; someone always has it worse.
I cleaned out your closet over the weekend. A tough assignment but one that had to be done. Ross is angry at me for giving your things away. He's a "thing collector" by nature so getting rid of anything is hard for him. And he's much more sentimental than one would think from his gruff exterior. He took all the bags of clothes out of my car; went through them all; culled all your band t-shirts from jr high and a few other things; and then had his friend Kevin try on a lot of things. Kevin took two pairs of jeans, several collared shirts and all your nice Banana Republic sweaters. He was very appreciative of them so I'm glad they went to a good home. I'm taking the rest to Vas to go through since he's about your size too.
Well sweet boy, I can only imagine how you would have celebrated your 21st birthday in St. Louis on Mardi Gras! I have no doubt it would have been a very fun day.
We're dedicating "Glynn Fountain" in your memory today at 11a.m. There is a plaque that Dad and I have purchased that will be unveiled. So your handsome face will smile at everyone that passes that way.
I love & miss you more than words can say. I"m so sorry you aren't here to get your childhood birthday letters. I wish I had put them in the casket with you. Today is the day you would have been able to read them.
All my love
Mom
Dear Ry,
Dad and I just returned from the movies - a dark, depressing movie. A movie with Steve Carell and Tina Fey previewed. As soon as it ended, Dad and I looked at each other and simultaneously said "Ryan would love that movie!"
I cleaned out your closet today in preparation for our upcoming move. I bagged up all your t-shirts, shorts, underwear, jackets, socks. I saved a few things that I couldn't bear to part with. I'm going to give it all away. Makes me sad but I know I can't hang on to those things forever. Maybe someone else can get some good from them. Dad wants your friends to have your stuff but they are all scattered to the four winds and most are too big for your clothes anyway.
I sobbed into shirts & Speedos and cargo shorts and sweatshirts. It was a hard job.
Last week a woman from Stanislaus magazine came by to interview me. She asked about what made us come back to Modesto. I said, as I always do, "well we suffered a terrible tragedy that changed our lives...." She said "I want to just say I have a daughter in the IB program at Modesto High.She's only a junior so she wasn't there when your son was but they still talk about him all the time." That warmed my heart.
I just finished Pat Conroy's new book South of Broad. There's a beautiful passage in it that reminded me of how I felt for so long after your death. I still feel it sometimes. He described folding up his God like you would a handkerchief and putting him in the bottom of a drawer for a while. Maybe for so long that you forget he's there. I think I did that when I felt so abandoned by God.
I love & miss you so much bud
Mom
Dear Ry,
I forgot to tell you this when I wrote yesterday.
Last Friday I met with two Assyrian men who are organizers of the annual Assyrian Aid Society event. They want to have it at the Gallo Center this year. Toward the end of our conversation, I asked if this was the same event that used to be at Diane Pedota's house. They said "Yes, we had our first one there. Did you come?" I said "No, but my son was there, supposedly to help park cars but I think he just ate your food." Then I told them you had died the next month, after their event. They both immediately said "I remember him!" One of them said "Was he with Linda Glynn's son?" and I said "yes". Then the other one said "I took pictures of him." I told him I have copies of those pictures and treasure them since they are some of the last photos taken of you. That event was on Debra's birthday - June 30 - while we were in San Francisco seeing Jersey Boys. You died less than a month later. Both the Assyrian men were really nice and seemed genuinely sad for our loss. They both commented on what a nice and handsome boy you were.
And earlier in the week I went to a Commonwealth meeting - it's a group for young professionals in town. I have volunteered to be a "yoda" to them. (So weird that I'm old now. I was young for so long in my career but I've now passed the tipping point.) Anyway, when I sat down at the table with a group of young adults and introduced myself, one of the young women said "I know your family. My sister loved Ryan." She was one of the Stockman girls from Central Catholic- Julia's sister. You knew her through Chris, I'm sure.
It makes me feel good when people remember you. Just today, Tyler Pugh sent us a copy of an essay he's writing for a class as IU. He has to write a eulogy and he's writing it about you. So sweet.
And I had a big breakthrough today. I had a business lunch with two radio executives who don't know I lost a child and I didn't tell them. The first time ever, I think. I tell everyone from cab drivers to doctors.
Love you so much bud
Mom
Dear Ry,
This morning I was searching my electronic photos for one to use for your birthday memorial ad in the Bee. I came across a picture taken on your 18th birthday, by our pool. It's of you hugging Dana is the biggest bear hug imaginable. She has on her cheerleader uniform and had stopped by your party for a little while before the basketball game.I sent a copy of it to Dana since I wasn't sure she had ever seen the picture. She emailed me after getting it and said she had never seen it. She was very glad to have it and has made it her Facebook profile photo. It is a photo so full of emotion and love. It made me cry to look at it.
Dad and I have decided to lease out our house instead of trying to sell it now while the market is so depressed. We would lose hundreds of thousands of dollars if we sell now so we're going to hunker down and ride this market out for however long it takes. I pray we can find someone good to lease it. Living apart is hard and I'm tired of doing it.
Today was the Super Bowl. We went to a party in Modesto and had a nice time. I talked with someone who didn't know we had lost a child. That's always shocking to me since I feel like we have big post it notes on our forehead that say "WARNING! Bereaved Parents!" But I guess we look a lot more normal on the outside than we really are.
Dad turned 55 last week. We all reminisced about his 50th birthday party and your & Ross' roast of Dad. You were both great. I so wish we had video taped it.
I love you so much sweet boy
Mom
Hello there bud,
I just had a big cry over you a few minutes ago. I don't cry on the outside much anymore - only on the inside. But tonight, I cried after reading a facebook entry from Brendan.
Ross turned 25 last Thursday. So weird. He told me on Saturday that his birthday was a lonely day. We did all the things we normally do in an effort to make his birthday special yet he felt lonely. I suspect it was because you are gone.
I'm reading a novel by Pat Conroy that is about a family of 4 like us - two boys and parents. One of the boys dies and the the other one has a nervous breakdown. The parents are almost destroyed in the process too. It feels hauntingly familiar to me.
Smelvin turned 21 last Friday. I can't help but feel sad as your friends all become full fledged adults without you. It's only 17 days until your 21st birthday. As always, I will be glad when February is over.
We're going to dedicate your Eagle Scout spot to you on your birthday. We have purchased a very cool sign with your picture on it that will be erected near "Glynn Fountain" as Chris likes to call it. It will be unveiled on your 21st birthday. Dad still cries every time he drives by that spot and the cemetery. Not sure how he will respond when we see your handsome face every time we pass by.
Madison is in Paris for a semester. You would have liked that. You loved Paris. I feel so sad and jealous of your friends having these fabulous experiences you never got to have.
Scooby's mom sent us a lovely note last week. She remembered the 30 month anniversary of your death was approaching. She recalled memories of the summer you worked at American Chevrolet. She said "I have flashbacks of Ryan pushing the billy goat around with his ear phones in." She ended it by saying "...we sure thought the world of Ryan! He brought us lots of laughs in the times we shared with him."
You've been gone 2 1/2 years. Amazing that we have survived this long. There were times I didn't think I would survive the next 2 1/2 hours, much less 2 1/2 years.
I miss you so much.
All my love
Mom
Hello bud,
It's been a busy week in my life. I sat in a courtroom all day Tuesday but fortunately was released from possible jury duty at 4:30 that afternoon. My schedule was jam packed at work but it was all good stuff - just lots of it. I really love my new job.
On Wednesday I was the guest speaker at a Soroptomist club. That's a service club for women. There were about 30 women in the audience. I talked about the Gallo Center mostly but at the end I talked about my career path and my decision to go back to Modesto and take the GCA job even though it pays lots less, etc, etc. I explained how losing you had changed my entire life. When I was done a woman in the audience raised her hand and said she and another woman next to her belong to the "same club" I do. They too have lost children. Imagine - 30 women in a room and 3 of them have lost children. 10%! That seems amazing to me. Then when I got back to the Center, Marie was there giving a tour to a group of her friends. She told me she wanted me to meet someone who was visiting from Indiana. She said "She's one of us." meaning that lady had also lost a child. Turns out she lost a grown daughter and two grandchildren in a house fire last May. Again I ask as I ponder the magnitude of her loss...how do you multiply infinity times 3?
A tragedy occurred in Columbia,S.C. last weekend. A 17 year old boy named Luke was accidentally shot by his friend while they were out target practicing. Luke was best friends with the son of one of my former McClatchy colleagues. I have asked Brendan to reach out to Trevor, Luke's good friend, and try to help him through this awful time of losing a best friend. I may ask Chris or Bryan to call him too. So much sadness in this world.
On Thursday night as I was leaving the Center, there was a group of young adults finishing up rehearsals for The Merry Widow. I literally bumped into a girl and just as the girl's friend called out to her, I realized she was blind. Then I realized I knew her. I said "Rachel. It's Lynn Dickerson, Ryan Dickerson's mom. Do you remember Ryan from junior high?" She said "Oh hi. Sure I remember Ryan. How could anyone forget Ryan?" Then I said "Do you know he died?" She said "Yes, I read that and I'm so sorry." We chatted a minute and then I said " Well it was good seeing you" and she said "It was good seeing you too." (I guess people say that even if they can't see you with their eyes.) I always admired her so much - she was so accomplished in spite of her disability. I also remember the time you were assigned to walk her back from PE to the main building in 8th grade and you forgot her. You remembered and dashed back for her but someone else had already come to her aid. You felt terrible about it. You were our absent minded professor with an enormous heart and conscious.
On Thursday I introduced Bryan to Jim Johnson, our new Arts Education coordinator. I said "He was one of my Ryan's good friends." Jim, a retired MJC educator, said "I had a student who wrote about your Ryan in my class." He couldn't remember the boy's name but said he wrote about how your death impacted his life. I wish he could remember who it was.
Dad and I stayed in Modesto for Jesus Christ Superstar last night. I kept thinking how much you would have liked it and how much fun it would have been to talk about it with you afterward. You would have analyzed it and had lots of thoughts on it.
It seems like last week was a week of a lot of Ryan mentions and I'm always grateful for that. Kay Osborne was in the audience at the Soroptomist club meeting and she stood up after I was done talking and told the group what a special person you were. She told how you were elected Student Body president the year we moved here. She said "No one ever gets elected the same year they move to a new town but Ryan did." Then she said when you walked in a room it got a little brighter. And it did.
We are learning to go on with our lives but we still miss you so very much. I think we always will.
Love you with all my heart
Mom
Dear Ry,
In an optimistic mood that our house might actually sell in this century, I decided to start cleaning out some drawers & things in anticipation of packing. I started in your room because I was feeling strong at the moment. I find I can't throw away anything that has your handwriting on it. Even syllabus info where you have made notes and long boring science notes. I found a few gems this morning.
I loved this poem you wrote in 5th grade called If I Were in Charge of the World
If I were in charge of the world
I'd cancel bad tasting food like cauliflower,
The A period on Mondays,
Dogs getting out, and also
Sudaam Hussein, Fidel Castro and Marilyn Manson.
If I were in charge of the world
There'd be REAL football and hockey during P.E.,
Better hockey rinks and more places to skate, and
Microscopic natural disasters.
If I were in charge of the world
You wouldn't have sadness,
You wouldn't have to be neat,
you wouldn't have trash,
Or "Ryan, do your homework."
You wouldn't even have homework.
If I were in charge of the world
A Santa Fe chalupa with steak from Taco Bell would be a vegetable,
All Adam Sandler movies would be rated G,
and a person who sometimes forgot to bring home his homework,
And sometimes forgot to not act like a jerk
Would still be allowed to
In charge of the world.
I found your Italian Renaissance paper you wrote in 8th grade. I vividly remember you working on that project and me promising to take you to Italy someday. I never got to do that. :( Mr. Fletcher gave you 200 out of 200 points and wrote this comment on your paper.
"Superbly accomplished! Well organized and written - you have a gift for language. I really enjoyed the Renaissance mental gymnastics in discovering your own secret code for organizing your pages - how clever! Thanks for the excellent report!!"
I remember Mr Fletcher's wife died a year or so later and you and I went to the funeral because you were so sad for Mr. Fletcher and wanted him to know you cared. You were such a special boy Ry. I miss you so much.
All my love
Mom
Dear Ry,
Today Dad rode the train to Modesto to take care of some business things for Oodles, the soon to be frozen yogurt shop. We had lunch together at Tasty Taco. A high school boy was checking out in front of me and needed 11 cents to keep from breaking a $20. I said 'Here, I have 11 cents." Freddie, the guy who owns Tasty Taco, said to the boy.."do you know who this nice lady is? She runs the Gallo Center for the Arts." The boy told me he knows Julian Gallo and thanked me for the change. A few minutes later he came to my table and tried to repay me the 11 cents. I declined and then he started telling me again about the Gallo kids he knows. I asked him where he goes to school and he said Modesto High. I said "Did you know Ryan Dickerson?" His eyes got big and he said "Yes! and I know a lot of his friends." I said "We're his parents." He then looked down at my business card I had just given him and said "I didn't really know him personally but I knew what a great guy he was. Everyone knew him and liked him." Then he scurried off in that uncomfortable way people often do.
Last week when I was in New York, I met with an agent who handles Lucas Nelson, Willie Nelson's son, who is now touring. It made me smile and almost cry at the same time. I told the agent that my son used to go to summer camp with Lucas Nelson. I would have loved to call you and tell you about that. I remember that first summer well when you and Lucas were in the same cabin. Willie dropped him off on opening day and you told me how fat Willie's ponytail was.
Ross called me last night at bedtime, sounding very sad. He was listening to his i-pod on shuffle when some song you had introduced to him came on. I think it made him miss you a lot.
Today I learned of a woman at CSUS who lost a daughter to brain cancer. The daughter left a daughter whom the grandmother raised. A couple years ago that young woman was murdered by her boyfriend, an Iraqi veteran. I always seem to find someone who has it worse than I do.
I'm home for a 3 day weekend and looking forward to the rest.
Love and miss you terribly
Mom
Hello there sweet boy,
Ross and I got home last night from our NYC trip. It was a good trip - especially for Ross. He LOVED the city and had a great time. I worked hard and was exhausted much of the time. Glad to be home.
As always there were so many things that reminded me of you. Ross and I went to a comedy club the first night there and both of us got picked from the audience for participation. That's right up Ross' alley, and was the same for you. Not so much for me. But it was fun. One of the comedians used a gesture that reminded me of you SO MUCH. It was your "Chloe Rivera" move and you always used to make me laugh when you did it and this guy did it exactly the same way.
I took Ross' picture in front of Letterman's studio just the way I did with you. And I walked by the Brooks Brothers where you bought your prom tie. I ended up sitting next to 4 Texas Aggies at one of the Broadway shows I attended. And I ran into your friend, Crazy Rachel, who goes to school in Chicago but was in NYC for the APAP convention. She saw me first and said "Lynn, it's Rachel. Remember me? I was a friend of ..." and then she trailed off rather than saying your name. I wish there was a way to educate the world that it's really more than okay to still mention you or say your name. So many people still can't do it or don't know what to say.
I'm starting to feel serious anxiety and worry about our house situation. It's only been shown twice in 3 1/2 months. I really don't know what to do I'm trying to have patience and faith. In the big scheme of things, after losing you, it really doesn't matter in the same way it once would have but at the same time, I really don't want to lose all the financial resources we've worked 30 years for. If we have to keep living, I would rather do it with a little money.
We all love and miss you so very much, bud.
I'm signing off now to write a letter to a newly bereaved mom whose 12 year son died last week in a car wreck. ugh.
all my love
mom
Dear Ry,
Ross and I are leaving bright and early tomorrow morning for New York City. I'm going to the performing arts conference and Ross is going to explore the city. He's never been so it should be fun. I remember so vividly our last family vacation with you - to NYC in April 07. After flying the red eye, Dad and I slept for a few hours. When we awoke, we called you on your cell and you & Tyler were having an "Irish breakfast" somewhere nearby. I said "Aren't you tired? Didn't you want to rest for a bit?" You said "Ma, I can sleep when I'm dead. I'm in New York City!" Dad and I talked about that comment the other day. That was such a "Ryan comment" and is definitely how you lived your life. And I'm now so glad you did.
I've been fighting the blues the last couple of days in spite of some major successes at work. My sadness over losing you still trumps any other joys in my life. I now have fewer awful days but they still pop up from time to time.
Tonight I saw on Kris Murphy's facebook page that a 12 year old friend of hers died in a car wreck on his way home from school. A 10th grader was driving. I fear it was his brother - couldn't really tell from the news story. That poor family. I wish I could wave a magic wand and protect them from all they are feeling now and will feel for such a long time to come.
Chris and I were trying to remember the name of your beta fish that Ashley Garcia gave you for your 18th birthday that Chris almost killed. Neither of us can remember. I want to call you and ask you.
Over the weekend Dad and I saw Up In The Air. The two main characters were named Ryan and Natalie.
Annie turned 21 today. And you will always be 18.
Love and miss you so much sweet boy
Mom
Dear Ry,
It's the last day of 2009. New Year's Eve. I always feel contemplative on this day as I look back on a full year that sped past. Some years are great; some have been tragic and some have been a mixed bag. I'm always amazed at how quickly the year has gone regardless of whether it was a good one or a bad one.
It was 10 years ago today the world was anxiously awaiting Y2K - fearing all sorts of catastrophes that never came to be. It all feels silly in hindsight. Our family celebrated at a dull New Year's Eve party at the mall in Wichita Falls with the McAdens, Humperts and others. You were 10. Ross was 14 - a freshman at Old High - just sprouting his independence wings with driving friends and other scary things. We didn't know it at the time but in a few months we would be moving to California - leaving behind our Texas friends and family. Such a huge adventure in our lives.
After losing you, I now approach the new year with trepidation, knowing it will hold profound suffering for many people - maybe even me. On New Year's Eve of 2006, I was melancholy knowing it was our last holiday in Modesto - knowing we were moving and leaving the familiarity of our lives and our dear friends; knowing you were graduating and leaving home; knowing but not knowing that our lives were about to change drastically.
Last New Year's Eve, we had no idea that Debra's mom would become ill and die within a few months. Now here we are again, on the eve of a new year knowing people we love will die in the coming year. We just don't know who they are yet.
I kept a journal this year. I wrote down every book I read (I read 40 fiction books and 29 non-fiction books); every movie I saw (I saw 20 movies); and I kept a list of suffering. I wrote down the names of everyone who died who impacted me in some way - I may have known them personally or I may have known someone who loved them or they may have just been a high profile death that grabbed the public's attention. That list is pages long.
Joni, Angelo, Tommy, Fred, Linda B, Linda G, Mark, Dave B and Dave G lost their dads. Belinda, Ken, Curtis, Dina, Debra, John B, John M, Melanee, Talbott, Mary & Tim, Donna & Roscoe, Elizabeth, Ken, Kenni, Mrs Ashlock and Dawn lost their moms. Policemen were killed. Planes crashed. Crazy people went into offices and shot people.Earthquakes in foreign lands killed hundreds. Hikers in Yosemite fell to their deaths.
Famous people as well as regular people died - Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson, Natasha Richardson, Millard Fuller, Bruno from West Wing, Dan Seals, Walter Cronkite, Bea Arthur, an Anaheim Angel baseball player, Danny Gans, Frank McCourt, Jack Kemp, Dom Deloise, Wayman Tisdale, Norman Brinker, Ed McMahon, Billy Mays, Karl Mauldin, Eunice Kennedy Shriver, Ted Kennedy, Patrick Swayze, Mary from Peter, Paul & Mary, and Brittany Murphy.
Friends I cared about - Bette Belle, Aday, Sue Smith Brooks, Mary Jacobus, Joe Cooper, Tom Crane, Jane Armstrong, Kirk Lindsey, Carole Tomlinson Keasy, Ken Diehl.
And the ones that touch my heart the most -children young & old who left behind grieving parents.
Rosie's grandson who died in a car wreck right after Christmas last year; little 10 month old Brody who choked to death ; Jett Travolta; Ryan Armstrong who left behind a dad named Ron and a brother named Ross; Bryce Turner - a student at Chapman University whose dad is Mark Looker's friend; Daniel Hyde who gave his life in Iraq; Lynn Padlo's daughter; Dimitri - Stevie's' cousin; Josh Kelly; Sandra Cantu who was brutally murdered; Adrianna Bachan - a USC student who was hit by a car and killed; Peter O'Ran who was 3 days older than you and died of a heart defect; Mica a friend of a friend of Brianne's who died in a car accident; Kathy Stone Wood daughter of Pat & Bud who died in a car wreck; 25 year old Alison from Escalon; 23 year old Alicia from Knight's Ferry; Sara, David, Jesse & Jason - children & grandchildren of dear Louise & Bill who died in a drunk driving crash; John Daniel Pontus son of a South Carolina friend who died in a car accident; Michael Ford; Shelby Evans - sister of Brianna's sorority sister; Joe Louden - a counselor from Foothills; Jeremy Kelley who died in a motorcycle crash; Brooke's twin babies; 7 year old Madison from Ceres who died of a brain tumor; Dustin - beloved only child of my new friend Alice; Annie Le - the bright Yale student who was murdered; Van's son Charlie; 3 kids from El Dorado Hills who died in a car crash; 18 month old boy from Coppell who was Casey's friend and Dennis' parishioner, 20 year old Jessie who died in a car wreck.
And there are lots more. As I am now so keenly aware - the world is a dangerous place and life if full of suffering. We don't know what 2010 holds for any of us.Undoubtedly, it will hold both joy and sadness; both victory and defeat; both tragedy and ecstasy.
My new year's resolution is to make the most of each day; to redeem your death for something good in the world; to do my part to lighten someone's load and to do all the good I can while I'm here- knowing I'm only here for a short while in the big scheme of things.
So happy new year sweet boy. I will miss you as much in 2010 as I did in 2008 and 2009.
All my love
Mom
Dear Ry,
Well, we survived another Christmas without you. Our third - still feels surreal that the world goes on without you in it.
We flew to Texas on Christmas morning. Up at 3am, left the house at 4am, took off at 6am, finally got to Beaumont at 4pm. Dad stayed with Granddad at the hospital while Ross and I continued on to Jasper. It was fun to be with the family and experience Christmas with little kids again. It's been a long time since we did that. Their excitement helped cover up our longing for you. You would have had a great time and I couldn't help but think of how much fun you would be having and how the little kids would be fawning over you, as they always did.
Aunt Les and Eady told me I think about death too much. It's hard for people to realize how differently I feel about death now. With you there, it seems like a good place to go to me.
Granddad isn't doing very well. He's disoriented and confused, as well as very frail. I fear him living too long rather than dying too soon. He won't be able to live alone after this and he has lost all his independence. Seems to me like death would be a welcome relief for him but that isn't for me to decide, obviously. He's such a good fellow and has had more than his share of suffering in his lifetime. Last week when Dad called him, he thought it was you. He kept calling Dad "Ryan" and Dad kept correcting him. I know you'll be there to welcome him over and give him a knuckle sandwich when his time comes.
Dad and I are going skiing tomorrow. It will be my first time since our near collision in January of 2001 that took out my ACL. I just went through your ski box and am going to wear your jacket and long underwear and socks. I can't find your good goggles. Maybe I will feel you close to me and have your skiing ability tomorrow. I hope I don't hold the group up as I remember how to do it.
I have a rotten cold and have felt bad for almost a full week now. I'm ready to be well. I'm tired of coughing.
It was one year ago tomorrow that we dedicated your tree at the library. It's amazing how time marches on, regardless of whether we're happy or sad.
I love you bud and miss you so very, very much.
Mom
Hello buddy,
It's almost Christmas. All your buds are home from college. I see their photos on Facebook at parties, having fun and it breaks my heart that you aren't with them. Yesterday I saw photos posted by Abbey Murphy of their annual trek to the city. It reminded me of the years we went with them. Some of those years were really fun as we tromoped through the streets of San Francisco, rode the cable cars, ice skated, shopped, sang Christmas carols on BART. I can barely bring myself to look at photos that remind me so much of all we have lost. I'm not sure why I do it because it's so painful. But I do. I guess I'm a glutton for punishment.
Granddad isn't doing so well. He's still in the hospital healing from his hip surgery but his mind seems to be failing too. Today when Dad called him, he thought it was you. He kept saying "Ryan? Why hello Ryan!" It took Dad a while to get through to him that it was him and not you. It makes us wonder if he's in that "tween" place where maybe he's seeing you as well as us. I sort of hope so. And it makes me a little envious. I would rather he move on to Heaven than suffer in this life. I told Dad tonight that it's a shame we can't will ourselves to move on to the next life. He said "Yes, but if that was possible, you and I would have already gone." Very true.
Chris and I talked today about how he doesn't know what it feels like to lose a child and I don't know what it feels like to lose a best friend. Then he said "Lots of people know how I feel because Ryan had so many best friends."
I took Natalie to lunch today. It's always great to see her. She is still as pretty as ever - on the inside as well as the outside. I often wonder if you two would have stayed together or found new loves at college. If you had stayed together you would have had really beautiful children. And they would have been smart and sweet. I can see why you two were such a good match.
I love and miss you so very, very much.
Mom
Dear Ry,
Last night we hosted the Third Annual Remembering Ryan Reunion. I think there were about 90 people here throughout the 4 hours. It's a bittersweet time for Dad and me. We love seeing your friends and we're thrilled they still love you and us enough to drive to Sacramento for the party, yet at the same time it makes us sad to see them all growing up without you. So many of them are doing really great things with their lives - studying abroad, cool internships in Washington, traveling, etc. You would have loved all that so much. I felt your presence with us, especially on Friday night as I was rounding up photos of you to put out. The lights in the hall flickered on and off for about a full minute. I called Dad in and said "I think Ryan is with us." It was pretty cool.
Last Tuesday we presented the Mock Trial award in your name to Vas. He was the nominee from Johansen so we were thrilled to choose him as the winner. Modesto High won the championship and they are headed to State. After they won, they did the "Who are we? MoHi!Where are we from? Westside!" cheer in your honor. It touched my heart though they weren't nearly as good at it as you were! There were several people there who knew and loved you so it was a special night.
Chad left a sweet card for us last night and I read it this morning. His words made me cry. He said "No matter how many years go by, or where this life may take me, I will never forget Ryan. His life's example and positive attitude significantly shaped who I am today. He will always have a permanent place in my heart and memory."
Only 5 days til Christmas. You would be SO excited as you always were. Christmas just isn't the same in our house without your exuberance and energy. We muddle through but it's certainly not as joyful nor as fun.
Loving and missing you dearly,
Mom
Dear Ryan,
Granddad fell last week and broke his hip. He had surgery on Thursday and will be in the hospital for several more weeks. Dad flew to Texas yesterday morning to help care for him a few days, giving Uncle Larry a break.
I have spent all day baking in preparation for the 3rd annual Remembering Ryan Reunion scheduled for next Saturday night. We've had about 80 the last two years and I'm guessing we'll have a similar number this year. Dad and I have been baking and freezing cookies for weeks. Ross eats them almost as fast as we bake them! It will be nice to see the old gang. It makes me sad that you won't be among them. I try to focus on the joy of seeing all your friends rather than the sadness of you not being here. I'm going to imagine your spirit being with us that night.
Last week we hosted the Chamber of Commerce mixer at the Gallo Center. I was talking to one of Dad's former co-workers and she told me about telling Gary Plummer about your death right after it happened. She said he said "No, not Ryan." I think everyone felt that way. Not Ryan Dickerson. Later I introduced myself to the lady who recently bought Village Baking Company. She said "You were a Lakewood mom, weren't you?" She told me her two girls also went there. I asked their ages and when she told me one of them is 20, I said "Oh, your 20 year old must have been in Ryan's class." She said "Yes, and she has told me what a really great person he was." She also apologized for bringing it up, afraid she might have made me sad. I wish people understood that I NEVER forget about it - even for a second. And I love for people to bring you up.
Ross' friend Kevin, who never met you, had a dream about you recently and in the dream you were trying to give him a message about Ross. He spent the night last night so at breakfast this morning, I tried to hear more about the dream but I think he felt awkward telling me about it, especially since he never met you.
I can listen to Christmas music this year. Huge step forward. I couldn't bear to hear any Christmas music the last two years so it's a sign I'm making progress. I even went to a Christmas party last night and had fun. Time is a magic elixir.
Ross and I talked about you earlier tonight while I was baking and he was watching me bake. I told him my memories of you are dimming which I hate. He said he still has moments when he picks up his phone to call you about something. He said Chris Crutcher just published a new book, after a 10 year hiatus. You would be excited about that. I'm sure I would have bought it for you for Christmas.
Ross and I had a nice conversation about how grateful I am to have him. Then he said he likes to think the reason I didn't kill myself was because of him. I told him that is true. Then he said "well thank you for that, Mom."
We all love and miss you so very much, bud.
Mom
Dear Ry,
Today Dad and I drove to Modesto for the Holiday Parade of Lights. I was a judge and Dad was Scoopy for The Bee. It was the first time for us to attend the parade since before you died. It was a good night but we both missed you terribly. Dad was a fabulous Scoopy, as always, high fiving and hugging kids - young and old. He's perfect in a character suit. As I sat in the judge's stand and watched all the entries, I almost cried several times. I remembered all the years we were there as family. When the Cub Scout floats came by, I remembered all those Scouting days. The high school bands choked me up. It was a bittersweet evening. I also realized maybe God put us in Sacramento for a reason those first two years. We needed that time to heal in a quiet place where we were anonymous and there weren't reminders of you and our old life everywhere we turned. It's taken this long - almost 2 1/2 years for us to be strong enough to face those things that conjure up such painful, but precious, memories.
I spent much of my week helping with the logistics for Bette Belle's memorial service next Tuesday. I feel like it's my final act of friendship for someone who was so special to all of us. I'm glad I can help in a small way. I also keep thinking of how both of you died on a Sunday, the 29th. Maybe God reserves those days for some of his most special saints to join him.
We have decided to go to Jasper on Christmas Day. We haven't been there for Christmas in years - 9 years, I think. I am now so keenly aware of the fragility of life - who knows how many more Christmases we have with Granddad or Gran or Bamps? Or any of our family as we have learned by losing you. It's not just the old folks who die.
We are going to fly on Christmas day. That is an awful day for us anyway so we might as well be in an airplane. The Texas family seems excited we're coming. It won't feel right without you there too. Nothing does.
Love and miss you with all my heart,
Mom
Dear Ry,
Dad and I are very sad right now. We just learned that sweet Bette Belle has flown up to Heaven with you. Even though she was almost 89 and in failing health, it's hard to imagine Modesto without her. It's the end of an era. She was truly an extraordinary human being.
She called me a few days after your funeral and I cried as we talked. I told her I was jealous that she was likely to see you sooner than I would. She said "Well when I get there, we're going to bake chocolate chip cookies together." So I hope you were there to greet her and once she has gotten reacquainted with the many friends and loved ones who got there first, you two can bake some cookies.
A few days after it was announced I would be taking the Gallo Arts Center CEO job, I got a call mid morning at home. It was Bette Belle's daughter, Mary, who said "Lynn, I'm at the hospital with Mother and she's going in for a procedure but she won't go until she talks to you." So she put her on the phone and Bette Belle told me how thrilled she was that I was coming back to Modesto and taking the GCA job. When I hung up the phone, I sobbed and told Dad I was afraid she wasn't going to make it out of the procedure. She had called me just in case. But she did make it out and lived another two months.
Bless her sweet heart. She will be greatly missed. I've never known one single person who has made more of a positive difference in their community than Bette Belle. Jean will be 90 in 10 days and now his bride is gone. I know his heart is broken.
I love you bud. I'm glad to know the two of you are together up there.
Mom
Dear Ry,
You would be so proud of us. Ross and I headed out around noon to buy a Christmas tree. Dad was still trying to avoid all things Christmas so we went alone. After checking out a couple of tree lots, where Ross wondered aloud where they find all the ex-cons to man the lots, we settled on a big Noble fir. A couple of nice high school kids tied it to the top of the Lexus and we creeped home. Ross made fun of me for driving so slowly - at one point he reached over and turned on the flashers. When we finally pulled into the driveway, I said "yeah, we made it without losing the tree." Ross said "yes, 3 miles and 45 minutes later, we're here." It was a slight exaggeration.
Then we began the arduous task of drilling a hole in the trunk and getting the tree to stand upright in the stand. We eventually had to get help from Dad.
Ross brought the tree in the house and he and I strung the lights. They are a far cry from a Ron Dickerson job that used to take 8 hours but they are on. Ross and I were so proud of ourselves for accomplishing that task and then half an hour later, I walked into the living room and half the lights were no longer shining. So we had to call poor Dad to our rescue again. He fixed the problem for us. So much for his attempts at not participating in the Christmas tree process.
We still can't bring ourselves to go through our old boxes of ornaments. Just too many painful memories. So we are using the new ornaments I bought in '07. Our tree looks like a department store tree instead of a family tree but that's the best we can do for now.
So the tree is standing, albeit leaning quite a bit to one side. I told Ross it's a little like our wounded family. Standing but not straight and tall. But it's burning brightly. I feel victorious. Another hard hurdle cleared.
Ross said to me earlier today, and I repeated it to Dad tonight...."Ryan wouldn't want us to be sad about Christmas." So on we trudge, doing our best.
Love you, love you, love you,
Mom
Dear Ry,
Well we made it through another Thanksgiving without you. We are grateful for the 14 friends who chose to share the holiday with us, helping to camouflage our loneliness and aching.
Earlier today I read the blog from a young woman in Dallas who lost her husband to a brain tumor in September. She is a writer for the Dallas Morning News so her way with words is better than mine. I related to a couple of these phrases:
"My list of thanks is long this year, but it's overshadowed by my immeasurable sorrow – the death of my dear husband in September."
" In the shadow of so much sorrow, I am thankful for the comfort found in doing things the way we always did them – even though I know those traditions will evolve over the years without Steve."
I feel similarly. My list of thanks is long too. I'm thankful for my new job that I love so much and fits my skill set so well. I'm thankful for Dad and Ross and Scrumpy. I'm thankful for our Texas family even though we rarely see them. I'm thankful for our huge and wonderful group of friends - many who have been with us every step of this horrible 28 month journey. I'm grateful for my good health and able body - not because I want to live forever because I don't - but because I do want to live until I die - just like you did. I'm thankful that we were good savers all of our lives so that now I can afford to do a job I love that pays less than 1/4 what I used to earn; that I can not stress (too much anyway) about this big house that won't sell. I'm grateful that Dad has a new interest in life and enthusiasm about his new business venture. But as Tyra Damm so aptly put it, still my thankfulness is overshadowed by my immeasurable sorrow. And I suppose it always will be. (I still cringe when people say Life is good or I see one of those stupid Life is Good t-shirts.)
In Wednesday's mail came a sweet card from an old friend in Wichita Falls who also lost a son many years ago. She said this "After your terrible loss (and ours in 1979) we know how we each feel. I was told peace comes with acceptance - but it is so long in coming. My heart broke for each of you - I regret you didn't hear from me, but somehow I just couldn't write."
It is indeed a horrible thing to lose a child, especially one as extraordinary as you. We missed you yesterday, even more than we do every day.
All my love
Mom
Dear Ry,
This may be my hardest day of the year. I always loved the day before Thanksgiving in our old life. I loved setting the tables, preparing the "feast" as you called it. I loved the anticipation of the holiday season, just over the horizon. It was always one of my very favorite days of the year. In my new "normal, I still enjoy the day but it is a bittersweet day. I miss you more than usual on this day because you should be home with us. And we would all be so full of joy to see you.
Dad is out delivering turkey dinners to Hospice patients right now. If you were here, you would have gone with him and it would have been a fun father/son outing. I'm sure Dad is thinking the same thing though we don't talk about it much. We both fear "losing it" if we allow ourselves to explore those "only ifs".
I cried several times yesterday and today. I began my day with a tearful goodbye to Debra as she told me to have a happy Thanksgiving in spite of my heavy heart and empty spot at our table. Then I cried at Rotary when Pete Herrmann and I discussed you and Lezzzlie. I cried at my desk a time or two. I miss you so very, very much.
I sent notes to many of my bereaved moms across the country. For many of them, it is their first holiday season without their children and I remember how awful the first one is.
I have been dutifully cooking and prepping all morning. The homemade rolls you love are rising. The sweet potatoes are ready to go into the oven. The dressing is made. And I thought of you with each step of the process and wished you were here to sample.
I hope there is a Heaven and that the celebration is bigger and better than anything we can imagine here. I hope you are surrounded by fun kids and pretty girls, as well as Nanny & Papa, MawMaw & PawPaw, Uncle Paul, B, Grandpa Robbie and all the others who are there with you.
I love and miss you much sweet boy
Mom
Dear Ry,
My eyes welled up with tears today in Raley's - right there on the canned fruit aisle, as I put the crushed pineapple for the frozen fruit salad in my cart. I don't think many of our Thanksgiving guests even like my frozen fruit salad, but yet I will always make it because you loved it. You and Bamps both loved it a lot. You were always happy when there were leftover ramekins in the freezer a few days later. As I stood in the grocery store this morning, I was hearing in my head Brianna's words from her eulogy at your funeral..."and Ry, I'll save my fruit cup for you at Thanksgiving". I cry just typing this.
Last year on your birthday Mrs. Pugh decided to become an adult literacy tutor as her Random Acts of Kindness for Ryan. It has been a very rewarding experience for her. She is teaching a 50 year old man who has never gone to school how to read. You would love that so very much. She sent this email to me a few days ago. It made me cry. Here's what she said.
"Last night I had my reading lesson with my student. He
finished the first set of skill books and had to take a checkup test to go on to the next book. After we finished the test (he did very well) I suggested that he get his library card to reward his hard work. We went and he signed up and received his library card!! He was amazed that he doesn't have to pay for books. :)
Well, after he got his new library card we went to the children's
section to pick out a few books that he could read to his son Joshua who is four years old. I showed him Ryan's tree and the plaque and told him about Ryan and his work at the library and love for reading and that I loved him so much. I told him about honoring and remembering him on his birthday and the tutoring was my kindness act because of Ryan and that he (my student) was my first student.
Ryan's love for reading just got passed on to someone who very much
wants to learn to read.
I thought you would like that."
I know you would beam with pride to hear that story.
We saw Mrs Taylor-Cameron at Home for the Holidays yesterday and she gave me several pictures taken at a speech tournament your sophomore year. One is priceless. It's when you learned you were going to State. you have your hands raised in victory and a huge excited grin on your face. I framed it. Getting these photos we've never seen is such a gift.
I love and miss you so much
Mom
Dear Ry,
These days leading up to Thanksgiving are so hard for me. I miss you so much and want you to be getting on an airplane next week and heading to California. I want to go to the Sacramento airport and eagerly await you at the bottom of the escalator. I want to see you come into sight with your backpack slung over one shoulder and that sweet, crooked grin on your face. I want you here for "the feast" next week so you can eat yourself into a "food coma" as Brianna calls it. I want you back!
When I return home after being in Modesto all week, Scrumpy is so glad to see me. He whimpers with excitement and curls his body into mine in a dog/person hug of sorts. It's really precious to see how much he loves me. I often think it must be like what it would be for you to come back home to me. I'm sure when I leave on Monday mornings, Scrump doesn't know where I am or if he'll ever see me again. Then when I return, he is overcome with joy, just like I would be if you were returned to me.
Tonight we went out for sushi with Ross and his friend, Kevin. I proposed a toast to you, the lover of all things sushi, and we clinked our water glasses together.
Yesterday was Kettle Kick Off day - one of my favorite days of the year. I teared up numerous times during the event. I have always loved the Salvation Army band and their Christmas carols. I felt that first uprising of Christmas spirit, like I always did in my old life, and it made me cry. I cried because you aren't here to share in these holidays and your death prevents me from being able to fully love them like I did all of my life before losing you. I cried when the total was announced - $227,000 in this lousy economy. I cried at that because the goodness of humans touched my heart. My late friend Aday used to joke that she was the kind of person who cried at supermarket grand openings. I am that kind of person too. When people's goodness shines in such a bright way it makes me cry. I cried at the video of Bette Belle who is so frail and thin - and at Jean who filled in for her as a Christmas angel and looked so sad without her.
I am doing my best to navigate the holidays better this year. I am facing them head on; not running from them like I have the past two years. I am trying to feel the joy again. It isn't easy but it isn't as hard either. I'm grateful for that.
You are with me in my heart every second of every day.
I love you so much
Mom
Hello buddy,
On Friday, several of us from my new office took a "field trip" to the library to see your tree. Chris G had never seen it, believe it or not. Brianne was in town so she went with us, as well as two of my new colleagues. It's such a beautiful tribute to your beautiful life. After reading the plaque, my new friend, Al, said "Man, he was a handsome kid." I said "yea, inside and out." Then I told him all about your death and what a great kid you were. I told him he would have really liked you. He had asked me earlier in the week if you were like Chris.(He really likes Chris.) I told him you were funny and charming like Chris but also very different in many ways.
Dad and I stayed for the Lord of the Dance Broadway show at the Gallo Center for the Arts last night. It was a fabulous performance. We held hands every time they played the song, Lord of the Dance, since it always reminds us of your funeral.
I actually bought a couple Christmas presents today and looked through some catalogs with Christmas gifts. I couldn't do that the first two years. I am so grateful the holidays are being a bit easier this year. I can't imagine them every holding the same amount of joy and happy anticipation they did in my old life but I'm enormously grateful that they don't hurt as badly as they did the first two years.
I did a Facebook invitation today for the Third Annual Remembering Ryan Reunion. Several people have commented on how unbelievable it is that this is the third Christmas without you. You would be a Junior in college. So weird.
On Tuesday night Chris went with me to the JoDee Messina concert. We were back stage before the concert began and she came through the door carrying a laptop with a webcam. She thrust it in Chris' face and said "Who are you?" He said "I'm Chris Glynn, Lynn Dickerson's intern." A few minutes later we both commented on how we wished we could call and tell you so you could log on and see Chris and make fun of him.
I love and miss you so much.
Mom
Dear Ry
Even after 27 1/2 months, I still have bad days - days where I miss you so much it hurts. Yesterday was one of those. Something happened at Rotary that made me very sad. I actually cried and I don't do that often anymore. A new member gave her new member talk. She is a lovely person, a few years younger than me. I don't really know her but had thought she was someone I would like to get to know. In her speech she talked about how good her life has been: a wholesome upbringing on a farm in small town Central California. Big loving family; married the man of her dreams almost 30 years ago; has two grown beautiful daughters (one your age and one 2 years older), yadda, yadda, yadda. She was a good speaker and her talk was interesting and well done. But she ended it by saying something along the lines of "I have come to firmly believe that everything that happens is meant to be and God is a loving, all powerful God who knows what is best for us.' I'm paraphrasing but that's the gist of it. I looked up, across the table and locked eyes with Tracey Kerr who was looking right at me with pity. I rolled my eyes at her, like "yeah, right" and about that time, Debra put her arm around me and patted my shoulder. She later told me she "heard my heart crack open" when that phrase was uttered. I began to cry right there at the table. I can't get to that place of believing your death and all the other horrible things that happen in this fallen world are "meant to be" and a part of God's plan.
The program at Rotary yesterday was a Veterans Day program and there was a mom there who lost her son in Fallujah 5 years ago. We talked briefly after the program. We hugged and shared our broken hearts. We talked about the importance of living in the moment and how we no longer have any fear of death since 'we have people there".
I found the piece below this morning on a website written by a mom who recently lost her son to cancer. It's about parents of critically ill children but I think it applies to parents of dead chidlren too. We also get accused of being strong when we're really just surviving because we have no other choice.
"Parents of children with a terminal illness are often referred to or viewed as having strength “like a rock.” Albeit flattering, it isn’t quite true. It is more like the strength of an egg. An egg, you ask? Yes! If you’ll think about it, you’ll see my point. An egg has a polished, smooth outer appearance, with no cracks or weak spots visible. It seems almost inconceivablele that the inside might not be so smooth or solid. Most children, at some point are shown the famous egg trick. An egg set at just the right angle can withstand enormous amounts of pressure and cannot be cracked or broken. Yet the same egg, tapped gently at an ever slightly different angle, will break. The contents, once so neatly concealed, will come spilling out. The no longer perfect shell will be crushed. It looks so fragile that it seems inconceivablele that it ever held any strength. A rock, on the other hand, is solid all the way through. To break it is almost impossible. If you succeed, you will find that there is nothing inside but more rock. It takes a lot more than pure hardness to hold the hand of hope. Parents of [medically fragile] children are not solid all the way through. We hurt, we fear, we cry, we hope. It takes a very careful balancing act to keep the shell from being shattered. “Balancing an egg” while running a household, going for doctors’ visits and hospital stays, keeping the family together, and holding on to the constantly unraveling ties of your sanity can be very tricky indeed! Occasionally, the angle will be off and the shell will break, shattering hope and all the neatly secured appearances of a truly fragile existence. Unlike Humpty Dumpty, though, parents of medically fragile kids will pick themselves up and put themselves back together again."
Anonymous
Love and miss you so much bud
Mom
Dear Ry,
I'm home again after another busy week at my new job in Modesto. I just finished up the fifth week. I've learned a lot and continue to think this is a great fit for me. Chris G volunteers in my office every day so it's good to be with him. My colleagues get a kick out him calling me Mrs. D. It's so natural to me that I don't even think anything about it. They find it amusing though.
Meghan Devlin's photo was on the front page of the Bee's sport section yesterday. In the photo, she's in the pool, making a shot. He arm muscles are rippling and your green bracelet is on her shooting wrist. I didn't notice the bracelet until Mrs. Pugh texted me to comment on it.
I had dinner last week with a new bereaved mom friend. She lost her only child, a 29 year old son, in early September. We talked about how sad we are that we'll never be grandmothers to your children. I still have a shot at the grandmother role with Ross but all her opportunities are gone. I understand that sadness.
Today I got out our Thanksgiving decorations. Somehow the holidays don't feel as ominous as the past two did. I'm so grateful for that. I don't think Dad feels the same way. I rarely allow myself to go to that place where I think "Oh, he'll be coming home for Thanksgiving in just 3 weeks." It's too painful so I try to push it out of my mind when it sneaks in.
Earlier today I was cleaning up my contacts in my i-phone. I came to your entry and I read it and cried. I have your cell phone number as well as your dorm number and your dorm address and your WashU email. I never got to use any of those but I can't bear to delete them either.
I went to my friend, Ken Diehl's funeral yesterday. He was 86 so it was his time. I liked him very much. He was quite the jokester so I hope you see him in Heaven. Afterward we took our 88 year old friend, George, to lunch. We talked about Abraham Lincoln and how his wife went mad after their first son died. I told George I understand how that could happen. I went a little mad myself. George said to us that he wished he had known you. That was invitation enough for Dad to brag on you for a while. We told him how much you liked Lincoln too. Then George said "I've always thought the very worst thing that could happen to me would be to lose a child." We told him he is right about that.
I love you much sweet boy
Mom
Hello bud,
I have spent more time on Micheal Piper's site and found this post by his mom that really resonated with me. I love the piece written by Emily Kingsley. So very, very true. Here it is.
"I have come to view loss in a very broad sense, and feel we are equally entitled to profound feelings. Loss of life is but one "reading" on what I have dubbed the "grief-o-mometer." Other losses can also have a profound impact and require us to work through grief. The grief of a sick or hurt child....any parent of a child with cancer or other life threatening illness will tell you the grieving begins with the initial diagnosis. The grief of an ill spouse or aging parent. The grief of separation from someone you love....for whatever reason....and there are many. The grief of divorce. The grief of raising a child that doesn't match the "dream" the parent had. The grief of not realizing your own dreams. All of these things and many others cause our hearts to ache and our minds to scream in pain, then hopefully settle in time.
One of our Caringbridge Angels sent us this wonderful piece that speaks to that hopeful transition. It goes like this:
WELCOME TO HOLLAND
by Emily Perl Kingsley
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip -to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The flight attendant comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
" Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is they haven't taken you to a horrible, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guidebooks. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills... and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy...and they're all talking about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ...about Holland.
Reprinted with permission from Emily Perl Kinglsey. 1987 copyright by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved.
I haven't yet accepted Holland. So far, I haven't even seen a windmill. Perhaps spring will bring a tulip.
If you haven't been to Italy, I pray you find peace in Holland. If you have found a home in Italy, I pray you have compassion for those in Holland."
written by Becca Piper
I'm just now seeing a few tulips and windmills. For over two years I mourned all that Italy promised and I would never see. I like the part about "if you have found a home in Italy, have compassion for those of us in Holland."
I was helping Ross clean his bathroom a few minutes ago and had a tearful meltdown when I went through the drawer and saw your cough drops, asthma medicine, inhaler, retainer, etc. I sobbed and Ross hugged me. I said "I miss him so much." and Ross said "I do, too Mom. I do too."
Love you so much buddy
mom
Dear Ry,
I continue to connect with fellow bereaved moms all across this big country of ours. My newest is a woman Annie referred me to. She met her through some program she is applying for having to do with adoption. Annie found out this woman had lost a 15 year old son about 2 years ago. The lady apologized to Annie and explained that she still has very hard days. Annie, being the sweet person she is, and having lost both you and Kendall - two dear friends in one short lifetime - was especially sensitive to the lady's feelings. She told her about you and later gave me the mom's email address. We connected and this morning I have spent some time reading her son's Carebridges site. The following is a post from Becca, Michael's mom. It hit home with me because I find myself reacting similarly when I see families together - especially when the parents don't seem to appreciate what they have. Here's what she wrote:
"A few moments before in the lobby of our hotel, a family was playing a card game with their three kids. Their conversation was relaxed and everyone sounded like they were having fun. As they were called to dinner, Mom and the three kids went ahead, while Dad put the card game away. I casually commented, “You have a very nice family…really nice kids.” Dad rolled his eyes back in his head and said, “It’s been a LONG two weeks.” I cried because I have become so aware of how we take things for granted. “Enjoy them every minute,” I said quietly. “You never know how long you’ll have them.” I’m sure he didn’t hear me. In some ways I hope he didn’t. Even if he had heard the words, they are meaningless to people who have not lost a child, or been close to someone who has. A few years ago, the very same words would have been lost on me.
In our society, death, especially of a child is so frightening that our human psyche doesn’t think of it as real, until it is. We slide into parenting fully believing that our kids will be with us forever. Intellectually, we know any of us could die at any moment, but emotionally, we don’t come close to that reality. Instead, if anything, we “dance” around the topic, “playing” with it. I’ve only told a few people this, but in the doctor’s office, just moments before Michael was diagnosed, we were having that age old conversation that starts with “What would you do if you knew you only had a week to live?” It was just something to talk about, but it had no feeling of reality. The furthest thing from our minds was that Michael would be diagnosed with cancer within moments. Without the chemotherapy, Michael would not have lived a week. He was already that sick.
Life changes in a moment."
Amen to that.
love you so much sweet boy
Mom
Dear Ry
Today is the 29th again. It's been 27 months since you left this world for the next one. Unbelievable that we're still going through the motions of life and that the earth is still spinning without you here.
I read this quote in yesterday's Sac Bee. It was from a story about Maria Shriver's Women's conference and the session on grief. Susan St. James who lost her 14 year old son in a plane crash in 2004 told this story. I LOVE the thought. Here's what the story said:
"Teddy Ebersole, the son of St. James and NBC Sports executive Dick Ebersol, died in 2004 when the chartered jet that he and his father were in crashed in Colorado. St. James said that after his death, she received letters from a lot of businessmen who knew her husband. One from a a professional football team owner struck a chord with her.
It said. "You know, the thing that helped me the most is, we're not human beings having a spiritual experience, we're spiritual beings having a human experience." she said. "And I could picture Teddy as a spiritual being and then coming down on Earth, having these 14 cool years and then going home."
I like to think that way about you. That you had 18 really wonderful years where you spread love and joy and fun wherever you went. Then your job was done and you went home. Sometimes when I look around at all the awful things that go on in this world, I'm glad you don't have to experience anymore of it. Most of your life was free of suffering or heart ache of any kind and for that, I'm eternally grateful.
Dad drove up last night for a Boy Scout fundraising dinner. He got stuck in a terrible traffic jam and it took him almost 4 hours to get here. He wasn't wearing his dress clothes, thinking he would have plenty of time to change. Then the traffic problem occurred and he was cutting it really close. He wasn't sure where to change clothes so he went through a Prime Shine carwash and alerted the attendants that he wasn't a pervert but was going to change clothes during the wash. They told him he had a little over 2 minutes to get it done and he did. You would have liked that story.
Dad and I both teared up at the Boy Scout dinner seeing those young boys in their uniforms and remembering the year you said the invocation for Royal Robbins' dinner in the same venue. You were mad at me for roping you into that commitment but you did a good job and left as soon as the prayer was said. So I got to be proud of you and you got to escape early so we were both satisfied.
I see you everywhere in Modesto. And I miss you so very, very much.
All my love
Mom
Dear Ry
You would have been so proud of your ol' Pop Squat this afternoon. We were on our walk when we noticed a boy and his mom. The boy was trying to learn how to ride his bike. He was much older than a normal bike learner and his mom was shouting out instructions to him but not participating in the activity. Dad and I walked on a little ways and Dad said "I'm going back to help him." So he went back, introduced himself to Ethan, and then proceeded to teach him how to ride his bike. Ethan is 12 and was very appreciative of Dad's help. By the time we left, Dad was sweaty but Ethan was successfully navigating the parking lot at the wildlife center. When we walked off, he yelled out "Thanks Ron!" It was sweet. Such a "Dad thing" to do. As always I was proud of him as you would have been.
Tyler came for Sunday dinner today. Dad drove to Davis and picked him up and Ross took him back. We had roast beef, mashed potatoes, salad, asparagus, bread and apple pie. Tyler said "This is such a Dickerson dinner!" I think maybe that's the only thing he misses about us - our meals! It was good to see him. Felt like old times except you were missing.
Our house has been listed 3 weeks and has only been shown once. I knew it was slow but I thought we would have some initial activity. No such luck. I am not going to stress over it. At least I have places to stay in Modesto and it's only 1 1/2 hours away. Could be a lot worse. Since losing you, I don't stress over things like that anymore. My perspective on most aspects of life has changed.
In a few more days you will have been gone 27 months. Still hard to believe.
I'll be heading back to Modesto early tomorrow morning for another busy week. I carry you in my heart wherever I go.
All my love
Mom
Dear Ry,
My life has become so busy I don't even have time to write these letters to you anymore. But I still think of you every second of every day.
I love my new job and am working my tail off. But it's fun and rewarding and I think I'm going to be really good at it. I've learned a lot in just three weeks but still have lots more to learn.
I saw Annie this week. She was in town for a short fall break and invited me to lunch with her mom, Mrs. Pugh, Julia's mom, Alyssa's mom and Brianne's mom. Those mom lunches are something I normally would avoid since it's excruciating for me to listen to everyone's report on their happy successful college kids and when my turn comes, I have to say "My son is dead." I love all of them and want them all to be successful and happy but those conversations poke me in a very tender place. Annie looks great and has the world by the tail, as usual. She's going to graduate early and conquer the world in the next year. It's pretty impressive to hear her plans. She still thinks of you and wears your bracelet and misses you. That means a lot to me.
I have been having one on one conversations with all my new employees. Earlier this week when having one of those, Ryan's Reading Tree came up in conversation and I ended up sobbing as I told Claudine about the day you died and the following days. Not the most professional impression but it is what it is.
Both Bryan and Chris are volunteering at the Gallo Center for the Arts - helping me out. I love them both so much and they love me. Bryan was in my office and said something dumb so I looked at him with a funny look and he yelled out "Mrs D - don't give me that Ryan look! You looked just like Ryan when you did that!" I loved it!
I have dreamed about you several times this week. maybe because I'm sleeping on Wycliffe. Maybe your spirit is closer here. I know I miss you more - being in your town.
This morning as I was driving to work, just as I rounded the bend in front of our old house on Wycliffe, KAT Country started playing that goofy Finally Friday song that you always loved. I had to re-do my mascara when I got to work.
I'm leaving now to head home to Dad, Ross and Scrump. I miss them so much. I hate being gone all week but the days fly by since I'm so busy. I think it's harder on Dad. I'm sure his days are longer and lonelier than mine.
Love and miss you madly,
Mom
Dear Ry,
Whew - my life is a whirlwind right now. From Monday through Friday of last week, I worked 64 1/2 hours. Every second of my day is busy right now. So much to learn, back to back meetings, performances, lunches, dinners, etc. I really like my job and think I can add a lot of value. I hate being away from home and our family but am grateful to have Debra, Steve & Topaz welcome me so completely. I find I am much sadder about you in Modesto than I had become in Sacramento over the last few months. I hope that subsides with time. There are just so many reminders of you - everywhere. It's even harder for Dad than me. He sobs every time he drives down Scenic. He came into town yesterday to go to an event with me and then to dinner with the Gallos. As we drove past your grave, he said he doesn't think we should buy a house on that side of town. I agree it's hard but at the same time, that is our side of town and I can't imagine living elsewhere. I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
Chris G is doing an internship with us. It's fun to have him around. We tease him and he's a good sport. Last week, we had him call a music store for Chopin sheet music. He asked for "Chop In" instead of "Sho-pan". At the same time, about three of us yelled out the correct pronunciation. It was funny. When he got off the phone he said "I listen to George Strait!"
Today we had the fundraising walk for the Terra family. I think almost $5000 was raised and I'm so pleased. The Serpas were there so we walked with them. It was nice to catch up. We walked past your fountain.
I saw Kay and her husband, Jerry, last week at an event. I told them it was hard being around so many reminders of you. Jerry spoke up and said "Yea, you drive past his grave, then his fountain and then the tree in the library. It's just a Ryan boulevard."
No activity on our house yet. I'm just praying for the right buyer at the right time at the right price.
I love and miss you much
Mom
Geez Ry,
We have a major typhoon pounding us in the Central Valley of usually sunny California. Another oak tree blew down in our yard though the big one is still standing, thank goodness. I'm literally praying it doesn't fall. We really don't need that.
Lyle Lovett and John Hiatt were at the GAC last night. I saw Mr. Beck. Bryan helped me auction off two signed guitars. We made $1725 from them. Bryan looked so handsome and smelled like chlorine. Reminded me of of being with you. I'm sure some people thought he was my son and that's ok. He has a hole in his heart for his mom and I have a hole in my heart for you so we're a good match.
Ross is sick. Dad took him to the doctor today and fortunately he doesn't have swine flu - only a respiratory infection. He sounds and feels awful though.
I signed up for me insurance today. It makes me sad to sign up for employee and spouse only and not have you to list as my child. It's funny how those little things jab me in a tender spot.
Being back in Modesto is wonderful in so many ways but boy does it make me miss you more. I now believe being in Sacramento those first two years was probably a really good thing. The memories here are overwhelming sometimes.
I just saw Tyler Jessop's facebook update and he mentioned today's water polo game. I then realized it was Tuesday. I used to live for Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. My favorite part of the week involved sitting in those stands watching you in the pool.
Love and miss you madly.
Mom
Dear Ry,
Well, Vas did indeed win Homecomming King. It is eerie how his life has mirrored yours in so many ways. He's ranked first in his class though - you didn't quite achieve that! He's a remarkable boy - just as you were.
Last night Dad and I were on our way to Raley's and as we drove I read a funny email from my i-phone to Dad. We both got tickled in a big way. The more I read, the more we laughed. We both had tears running down our faces and couldn't talk because we were laughing so hard. Finally I said to Dad..."We haven't laughed like this since before Ryan died." Later in the grocery store, Dad said "You're right. We haven't laughed that much in over two years." We feel guilty when we feel happy like that but at the same time we know you would want us to laugh. As you said in your essay...."I'm Ryan. I'm happy and I like to make other people happy."
A few weeks ago we had a few friends for dinner to celebrate our 30th anniversary. Debra was going to be late so I asked Kathi, our Sacramento pastor and good friend, to do a blessing. Here is what she wrote. I re-read it today and thought it too lovely not to share.
God of life, God of love, 30 years ago, Ron and Lynn took one another to be wife, to be husband.
They promised that they would hold one another from that day forward.
For better or worse
for richer or poorer
In sickness and in health.
They have done that. They have held one another's hands; they have held each other's hearts, through the best days of their lives,
and through worse days than they had ever imagined
They have been sustained by each other's grounding and comforting companionship
when it seemed that there were no limits to the success and happiness of their lives,
and in the moments when all of it threatened to disappear.
You have given them into each other's care.
Their hands have wiped tears from the other's eyes
They have found strength to give to the other when he has needed it most, when she thought she could not go on another day.
You have given them kindness and care, from the person whose touch felt most like yours
You have kept alive in them the light of hope
They have kept their promise to love and to cherish one another all the days of their lives.
This is an immense and grace-filled gift, and all of us who are grateful to be here to share it with them give you great thanks.
For this food
For these friends
For this marriage for life
For life
One of the greatest blessings to come out of that 30 year marriage was you, dear boy. And we all miss you so much.
all my love,
mom
Dear Ry,
Chris's grandfather died on Thursday. He was 94 and lived a long and extraordinary life. I told Chris I am envisioning Baba being greeted in Heaven by dozens of Assyrians and one bushy blonde white boy. You always got a kick out of him and would tell me funny stories about interacting with him at Chris' house.
A Ceres family lost their 7 year old to a brain tumor a few days ago. Her obituary ran in The Bee this week. My heart aches for them and the hell they are going through.
My week in Modesto was a mixed bag. While it was great to be back there among our many friends, I found I missed you more than usual. I mentioned that to Tom & Denise Solomon last night when we had dinner together and Tom pointed out it is my first time to live there without you. It makes me sad to drive past your grave on Scenic everyday and to drive past our house on Wycliffe twice a day.
Last night was Johansen's Homecoming and Vas was up for King. I haven't heard if he won. I'm betting he did. Another parallel of your life. He has followed in your footsteps in so many ways. I told Dad that probably freaks out Gregg & Stephanie and Dad said "It freaks me out!"
Prospective buyers are coming to look at our house in a few minutes. we've been busily getting it in tip top shape. Poor Ross evacuated the place. He doesn't quite get why a house has to look unlived in to be shown. I'm not optimistic that it's going to sell anytime soon but I am hopeful anyway. I hate living apart from my family.
I dreamed about you last night.
Love you so much
Mom
Hello there sweet Ry,
I love my new job. I'm super busy and there's lots to learn and lots to do but it's a great fit and I am glad I'm here. Last night was our first event since I arrived. It was a sold out Kenny Rogers concert. Very fun. I saw lots of old friends and was made to feel welcome and loved. I was introduced to a lady who said 'I knew Ryan. My grandson played water polo with him and we watched him many times." I beamed with pride, of course. It was Cody Hardeman's grandmother. And later the dance teacher from Modesto High introduced herself and told me they all miss you and think of us often. I met another couple who recently lost a nephew. When you're looking for it, you don't have to travel far to find fellow sufferers.
I had a long phone chat tonight with Mrs. Beard. We reminisced about her being your first "employer" from the days when she generously paid you to pick up her paper and mail when they traveled. She referred to your death as "a great loss" and it is.
Meghan Devlin works here in our box office part time. She stopped by to see me today. She was wearing her green Ryan bracelet. I always think of how you used to say you were scared of her because she could kick your butt if she wanted to. She was a pretty tough water polo player and still is - now at the JC.
I am grateful when people still bring you up in conversation. I hope that never stops.
I miss Dad, Ross and Scrumpy but I'm so busy I don't have time to mope. I'm going home tomorrow.
Love you so much bud
Mom
Hey there bud,
I'm exhausted tonight. The new job adrenaline has worn off and I'm tired after a long day at the new job where I am taking in info at the "drinking from a fire hose" pace. I drove home to Sacramento tonight to help Dad get the house "realtor ready" for tomorrow's broker tour. I just finished cleaning house and I was worn out when I got here.
You should have seen Scrumpy when I came in tonight. He was beside himself with joy! After loving me for a minute or so, he ran to the back door where he pranced until I let him out. Dad was outside mowing the grass and Scrumpy ran at lightning speed to Dad as if to say "come quick! Look who's here!" I have never felt so welcomed and loved.
I had lunch with Chris G today at The Barking Dog. We talked about you, of course. We can do that now without getting too sad. We both miss you lots. I love Mr.G and am glad to still have him in my life.
I'm staying with Debra and Steve most nights during the week. It made me very sad to drive down Wycliffe last night, past our old house. I slowed and looked at it carefully, remembering our many happy times there. Debra, Topaz and I walked our old route after dinner - just like old times - except you're gone. This morning I went to work via our end of Wycliffe. It was weird sitting there, waiting for the traffic on Scenic to clear so I could get out -just like I did thousands of times before. So many things the same yet everything is different.
I love you so very, very much sweet boy.
Mom
Dear Ry,
I started my new gig today and it's been a great day. As I was walking down I St, I felt like Mary Tyler Moore. I wanted to twirl around and throw my hat in the air. I feel like I'm home! In that 4 block walk, I saw your friend, Bryce Aquino, as well as Brenda Morris. Later I ran into two other friends. While I was waiting to cross the street, a man came up to me and said "Aren't you Lynn Dickerson, the new CEO at the Gallo Arts center?" We chatted for a while. It was like old home week.
I did get teary eyed once, thinking how super great this would be if you were still alive. You would be so excited to come home to Modesto for your college breaks.
There is a framed poster in my temporary office of an event that happened in 2002. There's a picture of Mark in it, holding his musical instrument. He looks like such a little boy. I can just hear you cackling at it, making fun of Mark. I remember when he looked like that. I think it's 8th grade - and he spent lots of time at our house and you at his house in those days. Makes me long for that time machine to turn back time and have those days again.
My stomach is growling and Debra is waiting with soup & salad so I am signing off.
I love you so much and wish I could call you and share my day with you.
All my love
Mom
Hey bud,
I'm scurrying around, getting ready to catch an early morning plane to Washington DC tomorrow. I'm meeting with my WIT women's group for the weekend. I return Sunday and start the new job on Monday. I'm a little melancholy tonight, realizing today was the last day of my sabbatical. I have enjoyed the time off. Dad and I have spent lots of quality time together and enjoyed each other. We traveled a bit, hiked a lot, rode our bikes, walked miles and miles with Scrumpy, gardened, ate a lot of frozen yogurt, watched Medium, House and Brothers & Sisters on DVD. It's been a nice break and I will miss it. I dread the transition of working in Modesto while we sell the house here but I'm not going to stress about it. All those kind of things now just seem like a minor inconvenience compared to what we've been through over the past two years.
Mrs. Garvin is a grandmother. Her daughter had twins earlier this week. I wish I could call and tell you. You would be excited for her and would ask me to send a gift. You were a thoughtful boy, even though you needed a full time secretary (or super efficient mom) to follow through on your many thoughtful ideas. I remember when Mrs. Garvin's husband died and you bought a card, had dozens of kids sign it and the asked me to mail it for you. It was nasty and gnarly from being in your backpack for a week but I mailed it and I'm sure Mrs. Garvin was touched by the kind words from so many of the kids. Not many 15 year old boys would have done that. You were special, Ry.
Love you much
Mom
Dear Ry,
We put our house on the market today. While I'm eager to have the transition behind us, I'm sad to leave this house. I have a strange relationship with it though. I loved it when we bought it; then 10 days after we moved in, you died, so I have been sad most of the time we have lived here. But in some weird way, I feel affection for the house for sheltering me and protecting me through those incredibly dark and horrible days. I will especially miss the yard. Dad and I "grief gardened" many, many days. There are many plants in the yard sent to us as sympathy gifts. There's a beautiful magnolia sent by Sara and Valerie on your 19th birthday. There is a "Heaven on Earth" rose sent by Brad & Cheryl. There are dogwoods that Dad and Granddad gave me for Mother's Day. I will cry when I say goodbye to this beautiful home & garden. And it will be the first time in our 30 year marriage that we move "down" in houses. Oh well. High end houses are moving at a snail's pace so it could take a really long time to find a buyer. And best case scenario, we're going to get hosed financially. But we'll get a bargain in Modesto so hopefully it will all work out.
I have had a couple of requests for Ryan bracelets from MoHi water polo girls. Even though they were just freshman when you were a senior, they remember you. I got this sweet not from Ellie Byrd today.
I'm a water polo player at Mohi and I was a freshman when Ryan was a senior with my sister, Laura. I was wondering if you could send me a bracelet because I never got one.
I'd also like to share a story with you. This last summer at JOs for water polo, it was the two year anniversary of Ryan's death. I wanted to do something special so I told the team about what had happened, and I had us do his favorite cheer, "motorcycle motorcycle, vroom vroom vroom." I know Ryan was watching that game because we won by one in a shootout, after saying his cheer about ten times.
I just thought you should know that, and how we still remember and miss him everyday."
I love getting those messages.
Tomorrow is Bryan's birthday and the next day is John's. They are both turning 20 and growing up without you. Doesn't seem right, does it?
Love you so much buddy
Mom
Hello bud,
Today is the 29th. It's been 26 months since you departed this world and our lives changed forever. I just re-read entries from a year ago and realize how much we have healed in a year. Sadness is a permanent part of us - we are forever altered by our loss - but we are better. I suppose we are finally entering the summer of our grief. I talk daily to another bereaved mom who lost her kids 4 months ago. She sometimes asks me how long she will hurt this badly. I feel guilty telling her the truth but yet I can't lie to her. So I say "a long, long time" but time does soften the pain.
Today I finished a book Mrs. Cassidy gave me by Marcus Zusak, the guy who wrote I Am the Messenger that you liked. This book was called The Book Thief. It was set in Nazi Germany so it was incredibly sad and tragic but a great book. It was narrated by Death. At the end, as death is taking Papa, the protagonist's father, Death describes how some souls he takes are lighter that others - sitting up, waiting for him - because they have given so much of themselves in their life. I think your soul must have been one of those.
I love and miss you so much sweet boy
Mom
Dear Ry,
Dad and I are home from the desert. ugh. It was incredibly hot there. We came home a day early because the heat was oppressive. Plus, we missed the Scrump. We enjoyed each other and had a fun time in spite of 111 degree temperatures. Last night we walked along the "Rodeo Drive of Palm Desert", as the lady at the resort called it, and came upon a very cool bronzed statue bench of Abe Lincoln. I so badly wanted to take a photo of your man, Abe, with my i-phone and send it to you. The urge was overwhelming.
Tonight I walked Scrumpy alone while Dad watched the Cowboys on Monday Night Football. The sunset was spectacular and we encountered at least 20 deer on the trail. A big flock of turkeys flew over us as they were roosting for the night and the Canada geese were flying and honking. I realized I am once again noticing the beauty around me. I didn't for such a long time. I was a zombie, just stumbling through the days, doing the best I could to survive. I'm grateful that I can once again notice beautiful things.
It was announced today that I am going to be the new CEO of the Gallo Center for the Arts in Modesto. I have felt like a star tonight as I've received dozens of emails, calls, texts and Facebook messages congratulating me and welcoming us "home" to Motown. It feels really good to be going back. And I think I'll be a good fit for the new job. Chris G called and was beside himself with excitement. I told him I feel a little guilty going back since you never wanted us to leave in the first place. He said it's okay and that you would be happy about us going back. I'm sure he's right. I wish I could call and share my good news with you.
I still sometimes fall back into that negative trap of thinking if we had never moved, you would have never died. I feel responsible and guilty. There's nothing I can do about it now and I try not to dwell on it but it creeps back into my consciousness sometimes.
all my love
mom
Dear Ry
Tonight Dad and I were in the frozen yogurt shop (we have developed a serious addiction to frozen yogurt) and the young boy running the cash register reminded us both of you. He had dark hair but otherwise, he looked like you. He was almost the same height and weight and had on American Eagle khaki cargo shorts. His hair was your kind of shaggy. And he was sweet.
A friend from Texas called today asking for advice on how to help a friend who lost his only child - a son - two years ago next Monday. His wife is worried about him because he doesn't seem to be getting any better. The wife isn't the boy's mom so that makes it harder. It's difficult to know how to help a macho Texan who probably doesn't know what to do with the overflowing emotions that have been sloshing around in his heart for two years. I suggested to my friend that she ask him to tell her about his son. She said he thanked her for looking him in the eye and mentioning his son when she saw him today. It's really a shame we Americans aren't better at dealing with other's loss. We are scared and don't know the right things to say so we often ignore it or dance around it. We change the subject when the deceased is mentioned. We try to avoid all the words we think should be forbidden: the person's name, die, died, death, etc. We talk in euphemisms. When really what the bereaved want is the chance to talk about their loved one and their loss and their sadness.
Dad and I are leaving town tomorrow for our last little get-a-way before I start working again. I'm a little sad this "vacation" is almost over. It's been nice.
Geoff is home from Colorado for a few days. Ross is going to visit him. One of the things Geoff wants to do while in Modesto is visit your grave. Sweet, huh.
I love you and miss you much
Mom
Dear Ry,
A few months after you died, Mrs. Johnson and Madame Scaif sent to us the cassette tapes of your IB orals in English and French. The cassettes have been on my desk since then - like a radioactive isotope. I couldn't bring myself to listen to them...until today. I was in the car alone and found the courage to listen. The English one begins with a narrator saying "This is Ryan Dickerson from Modesto High School in Modesto California on March 28, 2007." Then for the next 15 minutes or so you analyzed a passage from The Scarlet Letter. I loved hearing your voice. It was your formal, "I'm being serious and trying to impress you" voice rather than your normal funny guy voice. You talked about good & evil, heaven & hell and other Hawthornian things. I was sad when it ended. Then I listened to the one in French. I didn't understand much - merci, oui, and your name. Toward the end, the interviewer must have asked you where you were going to college because you said in a French accent "Washington University in St. Louis". Then I could tell she asked you if you had ever been to France because you said something that included the words Mark, Jackson Hite, Kalina Veneman, Madison Murphy, Hannah Peters and Madame Aldredge. Then I could tell she asked what you liked best and you said "Par'ee. Oui! Oui!" I was smiling the whole time, imagining you making those recordings. I called Dad afterward and told him about them. He said "I may never be able to listen to them." I'm glad I did. I felt like I had a little visit with you today.
There are not enough words to describe how much we miss you.
all our love
Mom
Dear Ry,
Today I was a guest speaker at a Sac State graduate level class. It's a Gender Studies class and my assignment was to talk about gender differences in the workplace. I felt ill prepared but it went really well. Like you and Ross, I never met an audience I didn't like. After I was done, a young woman in the class approached me and said "I hope you don't think I'm weird but I need to tell you something. I see things - and have for a long time. While you were speaking, there was a blue aura around you and I kept seeing a person. He was just over your left shoulder most of the time you were speaking and sometimes he was on the right side of you but he was always there. Was your son just a bit taller than you?" I told her yes, you were just a few inches taller than me and that I hoped it was you she had seen. In my old life, I would have found that really strange. Now I find it incredibly comforting. I couldn't wait to tell Dad.
Tonight we're having dinner guests. Dave Gilchrist and two other ex-colleagues from the Carolinas are in town for training so we invited them over. It's hot as Hades outside unfortunately but it will be good to see them nonetheless. Dave loved you lots and has sent me several really sweet letters about you. The two of you bonded when he stayed with you & Ross several times years ago when Dad and I had to be out of town. He was so sad when you died and came to your funeral from Washington. I remember the time when you were in 8th grade and forgot a paper at home on the computer tray. You called me to bring it to you at school but I was in Sacramento at a corporate meeting. I don't recall where Dad was but he was out of pocket so I called Dave at The Bee and he found the hidden key at our house, retrieved the paper, and took it to you at LaLoma. He's a good egg and was a dear friend to our family. He also loved Sarah so I'm glad he will get to meet Scrumpy.
I love you very much, bud, and if you were with me today while I was speaking, thanks.
xoxo
Mom
Dear Ry,
Well, I'm home from Arizona. I had a nice time with my friends. We drove up to Sedona which was really beautiful. I always see things I want to buy for you.
I got word while I was gone that my old friend Aday died last Thursday. She has been fighting cancer for 3 1/2 years. You would remember her because she had Thanksgiving with our family for several years in a row when you were young. I haven't seen her in a long time but I am sad for her husband, knowing how much he will miss her and how sad he will be for a long time. She was a special friend with a 1000 watt smile, a wickedly funny sense of humor, and a kind heart. She was a very special friend to me and I loved her very much. I hope you were one of the first non-family members to welcome her to heaven. I wrote to her a few weeks ago and asked her to tell you how much I love and miss you when she got there.
Dad is home from Jasper where he & Uncle Larry convinced Granddad to move into an assisted living place. Granddad is much weaker and more frail than when we were there in April, says Dad. I hope he will be happy at the new place where he'll have more socialization and better nutrition and care. Getting old is the pits. It makes me sad to see it happening to sweet Granddad.
I love you so much, buddy
Mom
Hello bud,
I'm rushing around, trying to get ready to catch my plane to Arizona in the morning. I'm going to celebrate the 50th birthday of my friend, Valerie.
When it rains, it pours in the job category. I accepted a position today though it won't be public for a few more days. I'm excited about it. In the last week, I was contacted about two other jobs - both bigger with lots more earning potential. But I tried to stay true to my mission of finding something that "makes my heart sing" with what I hope will be the last leg of my career. When I left my big job, I told everyone I hoped to do meaningful work that brings me joy & satisfaction. I think this will be it. As I was praying about it and trying to spend quiet time listening for guidance, I also asked you what I should do. I could hear your answer in my mind. You would have said "Mom, the money isn't important. Do what you enjoy." So that's the decision I made.
My conversation with you in my head reminded me of the real conversations I had with you every time I got a promotion and had to break the news to you that our lives were changing. Usually it meant moving to a new town. You never liked that. It was ironic how you hated change the most of any of us, yet you adjusted the quickest and shone the brightest in the new town. You would always say to me, (and make me feel greedy and ambitious, I might add) "But Mom, we have a good life here. We have a nice house and good friends and we make enough money. Why do we have to move and take a different job?" In hindsight, every move we made, with this last move to Sacramento being the possible exception, was good for our family and especially good for you. Just think of the hundreds of friends we would never have met if we hadn't made those moves.
I'm sad tonight for another family. One of my favorite people at McClatchy is Chad Muilenburg, a young attorney with three darling little blonde boys. Two of his little boys have a genetic kidney disorder. The youngest, 4 year old Josh, was on the transplant list and got a call Monday night. The transplant appeared to go well but last night around midnight, the kidney failed and had to be removed. So now he has no kidneys. He is obviously very sick and the future looks scary for this sweet family. Dad and I took dinner to them a couple weeks ago and Josh was so cute. While we there, he kept dragging out toys to show us and running around with lots of energy. He didn't seem sick at all. So if you can, put in a good word with the big guy for little Josh and his mom & dad.
I'll be home on Sunday night so I'll write to you again then.
In the meantime, remember how much your Ma loves you.
Dear Ry,
I am so touched by the post Marisa submitted. I just called Ross in to read it. It makes all of us feel better to hear stories of people's lives being changed positively because of you.
An anonymous person sent this message to me yesterday and I loved it.
"I'd like to share with you a sweet moment that happened last week with my 2 young daughters. We were at the Stanislaus Library checking out books when my 3 year old looked up at the tree in the children's wing, and said, "Mommy, it's the beautiful-est tree ever." And after reading the plaque on the wall, I'd have to agree. It is a beautiful tree & a beautiful tribute to Ryan's life. Thank you, & God bless."
I sometimes think about you being voted Most Likely to Be Famous by your class and realize in some ways you have achieved that already.
I'm back from Yosemite where Brianne, her mom, Debra and I hiked to Cloud's Rest. It was about a 15 mile round trip. Not as tough as Half Dome but pretty rigorous nonetheless. The last 300 meters is a rock climb. You should have seen Brianne scamper up those rocks like a squirrel or something. The rest of us took it very carefully as one wrong step could have easily meant a fall to our death. No exaggeration! A 53 year old woman fell to her death about a month ago. As we were gingerly making our ascent, Coleen reminded Debra in jest that she was with two bereaved moms and while we aren't suicidal, we have a different relationship with death than most people. But we made it.
We spent the night in a tent cabin - not the fanciest of accomodations. Brianne and I both think we heard a bear outside our tent during the night. All our food was in a bear locker but it sure sounded as if one was rummaging around, making "bear" noises.
So that was my big adventure for the week. I talked to you in my head during the entire hike. Brianne and I took a picture of our wrists, with your green bracelets on, to let everyone know you were traveling with us in our hearts.
Dad has gone to Jasper to check on Granddad. His health is failing and we are hoping he will move into an assisted living place. I'm sure he's terribly lonely since he can no longer drive. Knowing how Dad and Uncle Larry have a tendency to sort of lecture Granddad about what he should do, I said to him "Try to talk to him as if you were Ryan." Cause I know you would be really sweet to him. Ross is sweet to him too. I'm always touched to hear Ross' phone conversations with him. And then I remember how you used to talk to him on the phone and playfully say "I've got a knuckle sandwich for you." when Granddad would tell you he had a karate chop for you. At the graveside after your funeral Granddad stood up and karate chopped the casket. It broke my heart to see that.
Love you dearly sweet boy,
Mom
Ryan,
You do not know me but my step-daughter went to school with you at La Loma so I know a bit about you. I have pondered writing this many times because it seems awkward. Then I realized that there is a time when something just needs to be said and you cannot worry about the awkwardness.
I have been reading your moms' posts on modmomsclub and this website. I need you to know that they have made a difference in my life. I have not lost a child but I have a ten year old son. Up until recently I just went about everyday doing the same thing, getting up for work, making sure he was ready for school, getting him to school, going to work, everyday had the same routine.
Today I took the afternoon off to take my son and a friend to lunch, ice cream, bowling, the arcade, and a ceramic painting place.
We had a blast and my son was shocked and amazed because it just was not like me to do this because I am such a workaholic.
Ryan, I did this because of you.
I want you to know Ryan that you have changed the way I look at everyday. I take time for the small things for fear they could be my last moments with my son. I do not let it consume me but the suddeness of your passing made me stop and realize that I do not live by my plan but God's plan.
I wanted you to know that I look at life differently now and for the better. I appreciate the openess and love your family has expressed. I know it does not fix the pain but you are an inspiration and guiding light to me and my family.
Marisa
Dear Ry,
It's late and Dad & I just returned from Modesto. We went to the Picnic at the Pops. It was our first time to re-engage in that annual tradition since you died. And it was a wonderful night. There have only been a handful of times in the last 25 months where I can honestly say I had fun. There have been pleasant times and times with special people but actual "fun" has been pretty scarce. Tonight was fun. It was a Billy Joel thing - a guy named Michael Cavanah covered Billy Joel music and a few other good ones including Johnny B Good (I called Ross during that one so he could hear it on my cell phone) and Old Time Rock n Roll - your all time favorite song for years. That was the very last song they did. The crowd was standing and dancing - Dad and I held each other and cried. But then we thought - maybe it's a sign that Ryan is here with us. I hope so.
At intermission, Dad saw a boy who looked like you. He went up to him and told him he reminded him of his son who died two years ago. The boy was from Turlock and didn't know you but his girlfriend knew of you through Riley Plunkett from water polo. Later Dad pointed him out to me. There was definitely a resemblance though he wasn't as handsome as you.
We saw lots & lots of old friends and felt loved. Modesto is our town. I hope we can find a way to ultimately get back there.
Dad and I both remembered the many years we went to Picnic at the Pops at the Gallo winery with you in tow. We remember the first year when we were new to town. Bob & Marie invited us to be their guests so we sat on the veranda instead of on the lawn. You, Mark, Chris G, Leslie H and others played football on the grounds until the security guards made you quit. You always had fun running around with your friends until the fireworks began and then you would show back up at our blanket.
We feel blessed you were our boy and we had so many good times together. And we miss you terribly.
All my love
Mom
p.s. I'm leaving in the morning for Yosemite with Debra, Coleen, Brianne and Adella to hike Clouds Rest. Maybe we'll make it to the top this time if weather permits.
Hey bud,
Tears are dripping off my cheeks and my nose is running as I write this tonight. I decided to watch the video tribute on your website a few minutes ago before writing my letter to you. You are so alive and so "Ryan" in it. It makes me sob but also makes me feel close to you. I miss you more than words can tell.
Mallory called tonight from Arizona. She was on her way home from Ali's first birthday party. Ali is the granddaughter of Coach Joe & Tricia Ma'am. Mallory is their part time nanny. She said during the gift opening, Tricia commented on how it was a "Ryan blessing " that brought them all together. They found Mal through our connection to the Goldings and it has worked out well for all of them. See, you continue to bring people together even after you're gone. That was always one of your greatest skills.
Miss Carol Whites wrote to say it was 10 years ago today that her son got married. You and Ross were at the wedding with Aunt Les. She said that was the last time she saw you. Here's what she said:
"10 years ago this evening was the last time I say Ryan. You know I can still see him in my minds eye. Ry was so full of life and fun and I remember his eyes so vividly darting everywhere trying to drink it all in at the same time. Ryan had a huge time at thier wedding and I am glad I have that wonderful memory of him."
Me too.
Today is 9/11. It's been 8 years since the terrorist attacks. I now have more sympathy and empathy for those who lost loved ones in that horrific event. I have read about or seen interviews of several parents who lost grown kids. I understand on a completely different level now. I wonder how I will feel in 6 more years. I fear I will hurt just as much but that my memories of you will be dimmer.
Tomorrow is Debra's mom's birthday - a sad milestone for Debra. Find Pat and give her a big hug for all of us down here who love & miss her.
Dad and I watched a tv show tonight entitled Love Never Dies. So true.
We love you very much.
Mom
Hello sweet boy,
We were in Modesto all day today and until 9pm tonight. We started the day there with a meeting at Modesto High. It was a waste of our time. Being on that campus is hard for us so if I had known how little would be accomplished, we would have skipped it.
We visited your grave - something that is hard for both of us but especially for poor Dad. We were driving down Scenic, toward Steve & Debra's house when I heard Dad crying. We were almost to the cemetery so I said "Let's stop." We stood at your grave and Dad wept and I held him. Sometimes the tears don't come for me even though I am sad. I cried every day for the first 5 months after you died but I don't cry often anymore. But my heart remains heavy.
Dad said he had two split second experiences today where he felt 'normal". Then as quickly as they occurred, they were gone. A little like sunshine peaking through the clouds on a dark day, only to quickly go behind a cloud again.
I saw Jackson's mom at the fund raising dinner we attended tonight. She told me his Ryan bracelet broke and he had taped it together with white athletic tape. I took mine off and gave it to her to give to him. It touches me to see people still wearing them.
Several people told us today and tonight that we look like ourselves again after such a long time of looking grief stricken. One lady said "Ryan would be happy about that, you know." And I'm sure she's right.
Love & miss you forever & ever bud
Mom
Dear Ry,
Tonight I knocked over your golf clubs while I was taking the garbage cans out. I took a mental walk down memory lane as I picked them up and righted the bag. I remembered the day you accidentally whacked me in the back with your swing as I was pulling weeds in the back yard in Wichita Falls. My whole spine reverberated for a few seconds. And then I thought of how you never liked playing golf, even though Dad wanted you to. I think it was too slow for you. And you played a little like Happy Gilmore, hitting your tee shots more like hockey passes than golf swings. And then I thought of the times I drove you, Mark, Stevie, Vas, Kevin & Jeremy to that public course in Ceres on summer days pre-drivers licenses. Riversomething. I miss those days.
We had lunch guests today. Ancelle, a friend from our Make-A-Wish volunteer days, and her baby. She's a young mom with a 19 month old precious little boy. He was due on your birthday in '08 but was actually born the day after mine. He is very cute and we enjoyed our time with him. He liked Scrumpy a lot and vice versa.
The first email I checked this morning was from a guy on the East Coast wanting to talk to me about a CEO job. Some old newspaper friends had recommended me. We had a good talk and agreed to take things to the next phase. So that was an encouraging start to my day. This process of figuring out the next chapter of my life is a little like riding a roller coaster. But I've always loved roller coasters, you know.
I love you. And I miss you so much. It still feels unbelievable to me that we have to live the rest of our earthly lives without you.
I'm going to Modesto High tomorrow to talk to the Leadership kids about doing a Ryan's Relay to benefit the Terra family. They are the ones who lost two adult kids and two grandkids on Memorial Day in a car accident. They are having a very difficult time (duh) and Mrs. Byers and others are trying to organize something to at least alleviate some of the financial pain. If attaching your name to it will help, we're there.
All my love
mom
Hello Ry,
Today has been a fight against discouragement and despair. I thought I had my "next chapter" figured out and I was excited about it. Now it looks as if it is falling through. I'm trying not be disappointed but I am. I am trying to hard to discern God's will for my life but it isn't always easy. I suppose this newest wrinkle is God's way of saying "no" so I'm now saying "if this is no, what is next?" I know it will all work out but I still have waves of anxiety from time to time.
I spent a long time today on a blog site today written by the wife of a 40 year old guy in Texas who died yesterday from a brain tumor. He left behind a wife, an 8 year old son and a 4 year old daughter. It was heartbreaking to watch the progression of the disease in photos.
And I keep thinking of my friend Lori Ford who lost her son in June and her home and all its contents last Sunday. It's easy to fall into the pit of self pity until you look around and see the suffering of others. We don't have to look very far to find someone who has it even worse than we. Sometimes I think of my Nanny and how she lost her 5 month old son, Don, during the Great Depression. She often talked about him to me. I could see him in my mind's eye from her description but she had no photos of him. Not even one. I think of the hundreds of photos I have of you and how grateful I am for them. Nanny only had Don's image in her heart and head. And it was 60+ years before she saw him again in the hereafter.
I finished the Walking in the Garden of Souls book that I'm so taken with. So this will be the last quote from it. I liked this one because it made me feel better about my outreach to other bereaved moms and my public sharing of my story through these letters and my Modesto Bee blog. I sometimes worry that I come across as a butt-insky rather than a helper. So this message was encouraging to me because it's what I am trying to do. Here's what Anderson had to say:
"One of the most important gardens we can create to benefit others is a garden of community to let others who are hurting know that they are not alone in their struggle. People are all the same on the earth - they want to belong. So many people are afraid they will say or do the wrong thing and make things worse. There is nothing someone can do to make things worse for anyone in tragedy. The worst has already happened and there is nowhere to go from there but up. Just the attempt - whether it is successful or not - to show people you care when they are in tragedy is a gift they will cherish. It costs nothing to say some encouraging words to someone who has lost a loved one, a job, a relationship or some of their hope. There is power in community. In a garden of community we can lean on each other and know we will not fall when things become difficult."
Love you punkin
Mom
Hello buddy,
Happy Labor Day. Labor Day was our first holiday to face without you in '07. I remember it vividly. We went to the Herrmanns for a small barbecue. Being on Wycliffe was tough but we did it. Hanna came by. Chris G came by. The Murphys came by. We cried a lot. Pete's brother, who lost his only child tragically a few years ago, walked across the room during the blessing to hug me when I began to sob. I had lost 15 lbs and was thin and gaunt. We were still fragile and frail - like old people who had just been released from the hospital's ICU.
I don't remember what we did last year. That's weird because I always remember that kind of stuff. I find this grief has done a number on my brain and my memory. I sort of lost a whole year. Most of '08 doesn't register. I guess that's nature's way of protecting our psyches when the pain is too great.
I'm finishing up the George Anderson book I keep talking about. I swear, this is the most helpful book I have read and I have read dozens and dozens. The author talks about surviving tragedy and growing again in the face of despair.He called it "the Gift - the extraordinary perception was are given to see past the confines of the small world we lived in prior to tragedy. Ask anyone who has endured any type of loss - loss of a loved one loss of a job, or even the loss of the ability to make sense of their own lives - and they will recount for you the remarkable and life-changing things that seem to have just happened around them to assure them that they are not fighting the battle alone.....It is the only consolation our loved ones can give us when so much has been taken from us, but it is given to us as a promise that ALL will be returned to us when we have concluded our journey on the earth...."
His words give me hope.
I love you so very much.
Mom
Hello bud,
Bryan drove up tonight and went to dinner with Dad, Ross and me. He showed me a couple photos of you on his phone. One of you sitting on the toilet with your computer in your lap. How many hours did you spend just like that? Many!
I read on Facebook that Haley Baker is getting married. Remember when you ran against her for Student Body President in 6th grade? I think it took her a long time to forgive you for winning but she did. The night of the visitation at the funeral home, when she came through the line, she said "I finally forgave him for beating me out for Student Body president at Lakewood." I thought that was sweet. I dread the onslaught of weddings of your peers. ugh.
I corresponded today with a mom in South Carolina who lost her only child - a 20 year old son - in May in a car wreck. I hurt for her, knowing the despair and hopelessness she is feeling. She said to me:
"I remember when you lost Ryan, and thought then how would you do it. I don't know how I'm going to do it, I am just trying to take one step at a time. John Daniel was our life, everything we did revolved around him." I wrote back and told her she will survive even though she doesn't see how it is possible. I remember feeling the exact same way. I still do sometimes.
It's weird to be "the veteran" in this bereaved mom club. I now have many friends who have lost children since you died. Today I was thinking of some of them and realized I lost you in '07; Tammy & Robin lost their children in '08; and Donna, Lori & Louise lost theirs in '09. Time marches on and tragedies occur everyday. My own loss still feels fresh yet here I am in Year 3 without you. Unbelievable.
The book I'm currently reading is possibly the most helpful one I've read - and that's saying a lot, coming from the grief librarian herself. Here are some things that jumped out at me today from George Anderson's Walking in the Garden of Souls.
"Coming to terms with the prospect that the bereavement is a life long commitment is a slow and sometimes difficult journey in itself. I am concerned about those who tell me they quickly recovered from their grief as I am of those who tell me they cannot seem to recover from their grief.The process of learning to live as a bereaved person and accepting the great challenge of this life lesson, is something that will take patience, understanding , an help from our loved ones....Time is equal to perspective when we think about learning to cope. Just like a scar, grief will lessen in severity over time - some days will be better than others, but each day will make a difference in building the resolve we need to continue on our path. But no matter how well it feels, the scar will never completely disappear - we are bereaved for the rest of our lives."
Today is Aunt Les' birthday. I hope you sent her a birthday sign of some sort.
All my love,
Mom
Dear Ry,
Brendan spent the afternoon with us yesterday. It was great to catch up with him and hear all about his adventures in Ireland. He & I went through your closet and I gave him a couple pairs of shorts and your pea coat. It makes me feel better for your friends to have those things rather than having to give them to Goodwill someday. I don't cry often anymore but yesterday I wept while going through the closet exercise. For some reason, I cry more with Brendan than others.
The Today Show had a segment on the emotions parents feel when they ship their kids off to college. I turned it off. I still can't bear to hear that kind of talk.
Natalie wrote to say Wake Forest chose a Harry Potter theme for their beginning of school dorm decorations. Here's what she said: "The theme this year for all the different residence halls is Harry Potter. I got the chills when I checked in and notice that my residence hall, Huffman, is Hufflepuff. Funny huh? Everything was decorated in yellow and there are big banners and a few badgers here and there. That picture of Ryan in his yellow Hufflepuff robe pops into my head whenever I walk through the lounge now."
Synchronicity, Debra would say.
I feel sad today. Missing you. Feeling sad for the Ford family who lost their son in June and their home on Sunday. Feeling sad for missed opportunities and wrong decisions. Sad for broken relationships and our lost future. Sad that life doesn't work out the way we think it will.
I'm going to the Farmer's Market now. Maybe some Kettle Korn will cheer me up.
Love you lots
Mom
Well the rumor about the Fords was true. Here's the blurb about the fire in this morning's Bee.
"For one family, the tragedy was doubled.
In June, David and Lori Ford suffered the loss of their 19 year old son, Michael, from sudden cardiac failure.
Sunday, their house on Morning Mist Lane burned to the ground. Monday evening, the couple and four children returend to sift through the ruins of what had been Michael's room, hoping to find remembrances of him.
Several firefighters happened by and pitched in.
Ford, a deacon in his church, said the family is determined to rebuild.
"We are standing before the mystery of evil, but our faith consoles us." he said.
He wept as he searched, until a neighbor arrived holding the family cat, Striper, whispers singed but otherwise healthy.
"The kitty's ok." Ford said, his face lighting up."
Ryan, I cannot imagine how devastated we would be if we had not only lost you but all our pictures and your things as well. My heart breaks for this nice family. I just don't understand how this crazy world works.
Love,
Mom
Oh Ry, how much suffering does one nice family have to endure? Fortunately I'm not talking about ours this time.
This morning's Sac Bee had a story about 20 homes in Auburn being destroyed by a fire. It is fire season in this tinder box of a state we call California. I read the story with a compassionate heart but it wasn't until a couple hours ago when I got an email from a fellow bereaved mom that the story took on extra significance. It is reported that the Ford family lost their home in the fire. They also lost their 19 year old son on June 6. He's the one I wrote about earlier who died of an undetected heart ailment, similar to what we believe killed you. His mom was here at our home last Tuesday night for our bereaved mom's support group. I liked her very much. She told me how they had just had a car wreck that almost totaled her car - an expense they can do without right now after funeral expenses - and we discussed how "when it rains, it pours" sometimes. Now it is believed they have lost their home and most, if not all of their possessions. Those possessions include their photos and mementos of their son's life. I can't stop thinking about them and the unfairness of the situation.
None of us should ever say "it can't get any worse" because it always can.
Dad and I went to the California State Fair today. Another perk of not having a job - we could go to the fair on a Monday when the temperature was in the low 80's and the crowds were non-existent. We had a corn on the cob and a corn dog. I kept telling Dad how much being at the fair reminded me of you and made me miss you more than usual. He said "Yea, he did love all this crap, didn't he?" And you did - the food, the cheesy stuff for sale, the rides, the booths - all of it. So we thought of you and imagined you with us.
Love you much bud
Mom
Dear Ry,
The heat wave broke, thank goodness, and today was a lovely day. We went to church and then to the movie where we saw a sweet & inspirational movie called Adam. We walked about 8 blocks to the yogurt store after the movie and then rode our bikes about 15 miles on the American River trail. It was a nice Sunday.
In the book Dad is reading, the author, George Anderson, describes the phases of grief like seasons of the year. It rang true for both of us. Fall is the time of loss - shock protects you from the worst of the grief for a while. Then Winter sets in - the worst. The cold winds blow, the grass is brown, the trees are bare. The days are short and darkness comes early and often. The winter of grief is the most awful.
Then finally spring arrives. You begin to see green shoots and buds on the trees. There are more sunny days yet cold winds can sneak up and surprise us and unexpected frost can damage the tender shoots on the shrubs before they have a chance to blossom. But it's a season of hope. And it's a welcome relief from the long, cold winter.
Then finally summer arrives - the new normal in the lives of the broken hearted. The days are longer and brighter and we finally feel the sunshine on our faces again. We never forget the brutal days of winter, nor would we want to, but we are grateful for the warmth and lushness of summer.
(That metaphor only works in places like California where summers are mostly nice! Our Texas friends would not think summer a season to hope for.)
But I digress. Dad and I discussed where we are after 25 months. We think we're in spring. Some days, maybe even late spring. Dad has a hard time acknowledging he's no longer in the midst of winter but I can see that he's moved to a warmer season. I think he feels disloyal to you by moving into a better place. I do too sometimes but then I remember how you, more than anyone else in our family, wanted peace, harmony and happiness within our family. You would be pulling for us to be floating on an air mattress in a beautiful pool on a perfect summer day.
But we miss you and your happy, fun filled spirit every day of our lives.
All my love
mom
Dear Ry,
We got a wonderful letter from Brandon Leppla in yesterday's mail. He just returned from being on staff at SSP for the summer. In the letter, he told us how you were one of his first true friends in Modesto and then shared some memories from the SSP summer mission trips the two of you went on together. I especially loved this story he told because I can literally hear you saying it in my head. I remember how much you loved your counselor, Tom Buckles (Tommy Boy as you named him that first summer). Here's the funny tale Brandon shared in his letter to us:
"...I remember the first night when Ryan, Dylan, Joey, Shane, Tommy Boy (Tom Buckles) and I all stayed up late while sleeping under the stars and Ryan asked Tom when it was that he turned his life around and gave up "fast cars, booze, drugs and loose women" and Tom replied "Well I'm hoping this week makes a difference."
Good for Tom! What a great comeback. I can just hear you howling with laughter at that great response. No wonder you loved him so much.
And then Brandon said this:
"...That week was just one fun thing after another. Throughout the rest of the week Ryan had convinced girls from other churches that he was an Abercrombie model and he led everybody in the dance for the song "Lord of the Dance" where he would hike up his pants and get in a squat position to run into the center of the circle and be the first in every time!"
Then he ended with this sweet line.
"I hope I can give you guys some sort of comfort knowing that Ryan still lives on through me and he will always be one of my role models."
We miss your special-ness so much. You truly were one of a kind.
Dad, Ross and I went out for pizza tonight. While we were waiting for our food, Ross was being really funny and I thought how much fun it would have been for you to be there too. The two of you played off each other really well and could certainly entertain a crowd.
We miss you so much.
all my love
mom
Dear Ryan,
Dad is reading a book called Walking in the Garden of Souls by George Anderson. He read this passage aloud to me today.
"In my twenty-seven years of working with the bereaved, I know one thing for certain: loss is the earth's great leveler. No matter what our education, financial status, or social placement, the grief we will experience due to the physical loss of someone we love has the potential to smash our belief system, dismantle our values, and sometimes even crush our hope. In the course of my work, I have truly seen the mighty fall in facing their own loss - doctors who lose their perspective and fall apart, members of the clergy who suffer a crisis of faith, and grief therapists who become emotionally unraveled - all because they spent many years learning how to understand the effects of loss, but had never really prepared themselves for their own personal loss. There is a fundamental difference between KNOWLEDGE and EXPERIENCE with regard to loss: we will be moved by the circumstances of another's loss but we will be devastated by our own.
Isn't that the truth! I always thought losing a child would be the worst thing that could happen to me. It was too scary to even really think about - I was afraid I would jinx things if I allowed myself to imagine the horror of losing you or Ross. And then when it happened, it was worse than anything I could have even conjured up. Knowledge and experience are truly two completely different things.
Missing you and loving you as always.
Mom
Dear Ry,
I was in Modesto on business today and two sweet things happened. While paying for my tapitia at The Tasty Taco, the cute girl ringing up my order said "Aren't you Ryan's mom?" It thrilled me to be asked that question! It was Emily Swartwood and I hadn't recognized her. I told her what a gift she gave me by asking that question. When you were alive, I was asked that question often. You gave me quasi-celebrity status, especially with cute girls. So I was thrilled to have that experience one more time today.
Later when I was walking back to my car, I saw an old business friend. He gave me a big hug and we chatted for a few minutes on the sidewalk. He expressed regret over missing the Ryan's Reading Tree dedication last December and then said how "huge" the tree is. Then he said something very thought provoking. He said Dad and I are lucky in a way because we don't have to worry about you at all. He said "you don't have to worry about where he is when he's late coming home; you won't have to worry about him having marriage problems or money problems when he gets older; you don't have to worry about him getting in trouble of any kind. You had this really great kid for 18 years and now he's safe. I think there are a lot of people who are jealous of you - people whose kids are on drugs or in prison or living on the streets." It was an interesting perspective and gave me something to think about on the drive home.
Last night I hosted a support group for bereaved moms. I had never met most of them. There were 7 of us. Two of the moms lost their sons just this summer so their grief is still fresh and raw and awful. Still in that oozing wound stage where it cripples every aspect of your life. One of the moms is especially in a bad way. My heart hurt for her. Other than sharing our stories and offering hope that she will survive and the pain will soften with time, there isn't anything we can do to help. But somehow it does help to have others who understand what you're going through. It nourished my soul to be with them. I hope it did the same for the other moms. Two lost their kids to cancer; one was shot; one died from an undetected heart condition (just like you, we believe) after swimming the length of a pool underwater; one was hit by a truck while checking a text message and one hit a tree on a quad. I am reminded of the fragility of life every single day.
I love you so much, bud.
Mom
Hello Ry,
I began my day today by listening to a saved voice mail from Brendan that he left on July 29 from Northern Ireland. In his sweet, slow Brendan way he told me about his Ireland experience and that he was thinking of you more than usual on that day. He said he has his photo luggage tag with the picture of the two of you that I had made for him on his backpack. He said it goes with him everywhere he goes and people often ask about it. He said "I tell them about Ryan and without even knowing him, they say that he looks like a really friendly guy." He then went on to say that he thinks it's nice that people who never knew you can see what a great guy you were from your picture. Then he said "Ryan WAS such a friendly, special person. I think of him every day and miss him. I loved Ryan and I love you guys." It was so sweet - made me cry. Actually makes me cry as I type it now.
On our walk tonight, Dad and I lamented about what a shame you never got to go to college. We both envision that you would have thrived. Dad recalled the day we visited WashU the summer before your senior year and you did your prospective student interview. The graduate student who interviewed you was clearly impressed. Dad reminded me of how much the interviewer's demeanor changed from the time he came out to get you until he brought you back out. Dad described him as acting like an eager puppy, nipping at your feet, hoping you would choose WashU, after he had spent half an hour with you. Just last night, Dad read aloud an excerpt from a book on the afterlife. The author believes we continue having experiences like we have on earth, just better and without the sorrow and evil. So I said to Dad, "maybe he is going to college in Heaven." Dad said he hopes so and that if you are, he's sure you are a BMOC there too. I corrected him and said you are a BMIH (big man in Heaven).
I learned today that my old friend, Aday Harrison, is dying. She has been battling cancer for a few years but it appears she is on the home stretch now. Another of my friends getting there first. I know it sounds crazy to normal people but I actually feel pangs of jealousy when I learn of someone getting to heaven ahead of me. I have the urge to send a care package to you with them. Instead, I tell every one of them to give you my love.
All my love sweet boy,
Mom
Dear Ry,
This afternoon we attended a neighborhood wine & cheese party where we met lots of new people. One particular man I was talking to was boasting about his son who just left for college, a particularly difficult conversation for me every time, and he asked if I have children, also still a very difficult question. I introduced him to Ross and then told him about you. He said he was sorry and then he said "But you know, life is full of stuff. That's just life." In that que sera sera way. I felt like saying to him..."yea Buster, we'll see how you feel about "life's stuff" when it hits you with its full force some day." Grrrrr!
Brianna turned 21 today. She bought her first legal beer in a trucker bar in Wyoming last night with her dad. They are on a road trip to Bloomington. She told me about it in a text message. I told her you would have especially liked that trucker bar touch. And you would have.
Today is also Christy's birthday and Gran & Bamps' 41st wedding anniversary. And the day you and Leah Macko started "going out" a few years ago. Don't ask me why I remember that but I do.
I miss keeping up with your girlfriend escapades. I miss so much about my relationship with you. There's a big space inside me that is your space and can't be filled with anything else.
I love you so much,
Mom
Dear Ry,
Today Dad and I drove to Napa and hiked in the Napa State Park. It was a new place for us and we had a good day. Afterward we walked around St. Helena and had lunch. On the way home I read aloud to Dad from my book This Incomplete One - Words Occasioned by the Death of a Young Person. It's a book of sermons delivered at the funerals of young people.
Friedrich Schleiermacher, a German pastor who died in 1834, preached the funeral sermon for his youngest son. Some of his words resonated with me. I was also struck by how the horror of losing a child was just as bad in the 18th & 19th century, when it was much more common, as it is today.
Here's what Reverend Schleiermacher had to say about his son, Nathanael that I would echo about you. He was talking about God blessing him with his son.
"...that he gave him to me; that he granted to this child a life, which, even though short, was yet glad and bright and warmed by the loving breath of his grace; that he so truly watched over and guided him that now with his cherished remembrance nothing bitter is mixed. On the contrary, we must acknowledge that we have been richly blessed through this beloved child. The Lord has taken him; his name be praised, that although he has taken him, yet he has left us, and that this child remains with us here also in inextinguishable memories, a dear and imperishable individual.'
Love you so much bud,
Mom
Dear Ry,
Dad and I went to the movies this afternoon (one of the many benefits of being unemployed) and saw 500 Days of Summer. It's a cute indie film that Brianna recommended. There is one particular scene in it that reminded us both of you. It's a scene where Tom, the main character is REALLY happy and he struts and dances down a street, enveloping everyone he meets in his happiness. After the movie we both commented on that scene and how it was a "Ryan scene". Dad said "That's how Ryan's whole life was." And I think he's right for the most part.
Dad is watching the Cowboys play their first game in the fancy new stadium. I'm glad you were never a football fan. Since you weren't, watching the games together wasn't something you and Dad did. So it's not tainted for Dad like it would be if it had been a father/son thing like many dads and their sons have. I remember the first fall after we lost you, watching the Cowboys was one of Dad's only respites from the unrelenting suffering. I used to hope the Cowboys would win so Dad would have a smidgen of something to be happy about.
I love you bud and miss you more than words can say.
Mom
Hello buddy,
Today was full of encouraging progress for me. I'm feeling optimistic about my prospects for gainful employment. I actually have several good options - now my job is to discern which one is right for us. Easier said than done. I really don't want to make the wrong decision.
Many of the kids are leaving for college again. The whole Back To School thing is still very hard for me. I avoid Target and newspaper fliers and television commercials and articles about dorm necessitities. Even after two years, it's still painful.
Today I got a Facebook message from a bereaved mom friend who lives near Chico. Her beautiful daughter died just a few days before you did, at the age of 15. She wrote to say today was the first day of school for her surviving kids and would have been the first day of senior year for her Claire who died. It was hard for her to see all her daughter's friends excitedly beginning their senior year. I completely understand how she feels. It's hard to not feel cheated by life.
But you can always find someone who has it worse. Yesterday I had lunch for the first time with a bereaved mom who lost her only child in March 08. They had fertility issues and worked so hard to have her, only to lose her 11 1/2 years later to a brain tumor. I really liked this mom and think we will be friends. We share many of the same feelings. Ross told me the other day that every friend I have in Sacramento is a bereaved parent. That's a fairly accurate description of the truth. I have a few who aren't but not many.
Ross found a book on your shelves today that interested him. He had it in the kitchen and told me it was yours. I looked up and he held it up and said "Can't you tell? It's beat all to hell. The pages stick together and fold over onto one another." You were hard on stuff - books, clothes, shoes, anything you could chew on.
But boy, do we miss you~
All my love and then some,
Mom
Dear Ry,
We encountered another rattlesnake tonight on our walk. The second one this summer. Scrumpy had just finished his swim in the river and we were walking back toward the path. I walked right up on the snake and heard its rattle as it slithered off into the bushes. It was big and scary!
Dad had a very interesting experience at the i-pod repair shop today. The hard drive on mine went out a few days ago so he took it in to see if it could be repaired. The repair guy suggested we buy a refurbished one but Dad explained this one has sentimental value. He told how you had given it to me for Mother's Day and then died soon thereafter. Another customer, a woman, overheard the story. Later, as she and Dad were sitting together in the waiting area, she told him she was sorry about his loss and then told him she could tell him some things that would shock him. He said "Try me." She explained that she has psychic gifts. I don't think she called them that but that's what she described. Then she said she could feel your presence in the room. She told Dad that you are happy but worried about him. She said Dad's grief and sadness is holding you back. She asked Dad if he feels like there is a giant boulder on his chest when he lies down at night. Interestingly, that is the exact metaphor Dad uses to describe to me how he often feels. She then said that until that boulder is only a pebble, you won't be free to move on and be completely happy. Dad then asked her what she believes happens to our souls after we die and she said "I can just tell you this. You WILL see your son again."
Strange encounter for sure but Dad came home feeling so much lighter and happier. I told him it was like getting a postcard from you. "Having a great time. Weather is beautiful. See you soon! Love, Ry"
All my love,
Mom
Hello bud,
Today is my and Dad's 30th wedding anniversary. Isn't that amazing? I always thought people who had been married 30 years were old but lo and behold, we have and we aren't. Funny how that works.
You were born the year we celebrated 10 years. Dad had promised me a "rock" - a bigger diamond for my wedding ring. But then you became very ill at 8 weeks and spent over a week in the hospital. That soaked up any extra money we might have had. On our anniversary that year, Dad apologized and told me "the rock" went up in the oxygen tent. That was okay. You were worth more than all the diamonds in the world.
Debra, who has a beautiful way with words, sent a lovely message to us this afternoon. Here's part of what she said:
"Congratulations on sustaining and nourishing your partnerships through joy and sorrow for three decades.
I was thinking about the two of you in your early 20's standing before God, family and friends making those vows . . . to love and honor one another for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer, in sickness, in health. I suppose no young couple really comprehends what will be required of them in keeping those vows in the journey we call marriage. Certainly, you never imagined the challenges that were in your future, especially the most horrible of all . . . losing Ryan."
I have contemplated our life together throughout the day. Jimmy Buffett's line "some of it's magic and some of it's tragic but we've had a good life all the way" keeps going through my head. I agree with the magic and tragic part but I'm still not able to say amen to the "good life" part. I hope to someday get there again through time and wisdom but at this point your death has negated all the "life is good" for us. We make the best of things and try to focus on what we have left rather than what we lost. And that's the best we can do.
Debra is right about young couples standing before their friends and family, making those vows, somehow thinking they have protection from the land mines of life. And some people do seem to skate through unscathed - but not very many. Life is hard and I guess at the end of the day what matters is how we deal with the adversity and loss that comes our way. Maybe that is the big test for all of us.
So I close tonight grateful to have been married to your ol' Pop Squat for 30 years. I can't think of a better man to have shared my life with. He was a great Dad to you and continues to be that to Ross. He's been my biggest cheerleader and supporter - making many personal sacrifices for the good of our family. He was a full time Dad long before it was fashionable to be one. He checked his ego at the door years ago to devote his time and attention to you, Ross and me. You always appreciated him and told him (and me) how lucky you were to have him as your Dad. I'm happy you were wise enough to know how lucky you were before it was too late.
We all miss you so much but I think Dad hurts the worst. You were his hero, as he often told you, and your death has left a Grand Canyon sized hole in his heart.
Love you so very much,
Mom
Dear Ry,
Brianne and Brianna spent the day with us today. We ate lunch at the famous The Squeeze Inn - a tiny little dive of a hamburger joint that has been featured on The Food Network. We stood in line for half an hour before we got in to order. Unlike most things in life that are over rated, this one wasn't. Very yummy and I can only imagine how many calories. You would have LOVED it. Greasy, unhealthy food was right up your alley.
We talked about you a lot this afternoon. I asked Brianna if she has told Nate, her boyfriend from IU, about you. She said she has but that it's difficult to fully describe you to people who never knew you. Dad and I struggle with that same thing. It makes us sad that we now have friends who never knew you. There aren't adequate words to describe the full essence of who you were. As the nuns sang about Maria in The Sound of Music...."how do you hold a moonbeam in your hands?"
Bret is in the hospital in Beaumont with what they believe to be Swine Flu. He's been sick since late last week and the respiratory problems have gotten worse. It scares me. Eady seems calm about it. I think I'm extra paranoid now because I KNOW the worst can happen whereas until it happens to you, you always believe everything is going to be okay. I'm sure he'll be fine but I will rest easier when he IS fine.
Last night we drove into the city and had dinner with our old friends, the Perglers, who are in Half Moon Bay on vacation. Their only son died a couple years before you did. They have healed much better than I think we ever will. Their son was in a lot of pain so maybe their solace is greater knowing he is no longer suffering. Our situation is different. You were the happiest kid we knew and the world was your oyster.
I love and miss you so much.
Mom
Dear Ry,
We had a wonderful family day today - by far the best day we have had since your death. We drove to a spot near Lake Tahoe where we hiked to Lake Margaret. Dad, Ross, Scrumpy and I. It was a perfect day weather wise and the hike was only about 5 miles round trip so very do-able. It really was the nicest time we have shared in such a long time. I caught myself thinking how great it would have been if you had been with us too. But that will never be again. So sad.
After we got home and washed off the layers of dirt, Ross and I went to Whole Foods for a pizza. On the way there, we talked about the Wycliffe house. Ross told me buying it was a great decision, not just for our family but for the hordes of kids who came and went over the 7 years we were there. He said something to the effect of "without a doubt, dozens of kids' lives were enriched from the time they spent at that house." I had always thought to myself there were lots of Modesto kids who would drive by our old house as adults and say "I had a lot of fun at that house when I was growing up." Ross' comments tonight confirmed it for me and that felt good. I miss that house and that life so very much. I tear up just thinking about it.
I emailed Jack Herrera's dad last night to tell him I remember this is the 2 year anniversary of Jack's death. I told him I hope our February 16 birthday boys are living it up together in Heaven. He wrote back to say he wonders if the day you guys died was the worst day or the best day of your lives. Definitely the worst day for we parents but he believes the best day for you since you left this broken world for a better one. I like his thinking. I hope he's right.
Love you so very much,
Mom
Hey bud,
I don't normally write twice in one day but we just returned from the movies where we saw Julia & Julie and I'm feeling ebullient. I loved the movie and it inspired me to stay the course in finding something to do that I LOVE. Not just a hard job that pays a lot of money. Today I turned down a job. It scares me to let that bird in the hand go, not knowing what the bushes hold but my gut tells me it was the right decision. Time will tell, I suppose. I keep asking God to direct me toward meaningful work that brings me joy, satisfaction and enough money to pay the bills.
A few minutes ago, I was going through a stack of cards we recently received. Our friend, Carol, wrote this encouraging message to Dad and me after our weekend together a month or so ago. She said "...The great paradox is that perhaps the heaviest hearted guests brought us the most happiness, joy & hope! Ryan's death has somehow made you into emissaries of gentleness and love." We were both touched by those lovely words.
Also, my grief pen pal from Pennsylvania wrote this to me around the anniversary of your death:
"I'm sure it seems surreal to think it's been two years since Ryan's death. I don't know if you do this, but I have found myself telling people the number of months since David died. In other words I say, "My son was killed 19 months ago." I really don't want to say two years ago. Maybe I don't want to say two years because it puts him farther away from our world. I don't want people to say or think. "Oh yeah, she had a kid who died." but rather "Wow, her son was alive just 19 months ago." Maybe it's like when our boys were toddlers and people would ask their age and we'd say "22 months" instead of rounding up to 2."
I totally agree with what she said. I also do the "months thing" - even now. And it seems so strange that we're beginning our third year without you. You would be starting your junior year in college in a few days. Amazing....and so very, very tragic that you are not.
I love you sweetheart. I'm going to bed now and dream about butter (from the movie - you know how I love butter!)
Mom
Dear Ry,
I didn't write to you last night because I'm waging a war with the depression demons and the demons are winning. I was afraid my words would be morose and heavy with sadness.
Today Dad, Ross and I thoroughly cleaned the house for the first time since we had to let the cleaning people go. One of my jobs was dusting. I hate dusting for many reasons but I hadn't thought about what a sad job it was going to be. As I dusted the dozens of photographs throughout our house, I looked at your sweet face many times. I was in tears by the time I finished. I miss you so much.
I don't know where my days go. I'm beginning to relate to those retirees who say "I don't know how I ever had time to work." My days zoom by and I never get enough done. I try to do something every day toward finding my new role in life - a role that pays the bills. I haven't found it yet but I have eliminated some things. I guess that's progress. Some days I feel calm and peaceful. Other days I am wracked with anxiety and fear. I keep praying to that God I'm no longer sure exists to give me clarity and direction - asking that his will be done in my life. I'm still waiting.
A few minutes ago, I was searching for something in my electronic files and found a copy of the letter I sent my friend Sue Smith last fall. She's the one who died a couple weeks ago. I sent it last fall and here's what I said to her:
October 20, 2008
Dear Sue,
I heard via Jan Hancock Nichols that you are sick. The rumor mill has it you are very ill but you know how the grapevine can be. It could be much less serious than we have been led to believe. I hope that is the case.
Regardless, I wanted to write to you and let you know you are in my thoughts and prayers. I’m sure this is a painful and scary time for you and those who love you.
Life is something, isn’t it? In some ways, it seems like just the other day we were at Jasper High School with our whole lives ahead of us. We were young and naïve and thought we would live forever and all of it would be good from there on out. As we have learned, time flies whether you’re having fun or not (we are 50 years old, after all) and life is full of suffering and tragedy. If we had known what was ahead of us, we likely wouldn’t have had the courage to attempt it. That’s the great thing about being young and dumb – we don’t know how hard life is going to be.
I’m sorry if I’m coming across morose and negative. I hope your life has had more than its share of joy and blessings. I personally suffered a great tragedy 15 months ago and my suffering continues to be great, thus coloring my outlook on life. Our 18 year old son, Ryan, drowned while life guarding at a summer camp near Austin, Tx on July 29, 2007. He was an extraordinary young man and the joy of our lives. Losing a child is a horrible, horrible thing.
I will end with my last memory of you – it was the day we graduated from high school. We were lined up in front of the football field entrance, preparing to enter the stadium. I think you were crying, as we all realized we might never see some of our classmates again. Of the 221 kids in our class, I distinctly remember your reaction and seeing you there in line.
I wish you peace and comfort and healing – in whatever form that may be. And if you get to Heaven first, look up my sweet Ryan and tell him his mother misses him so very, very much.
Love,
Lynn Reeves Dickerson
I hope she has found you and given you that message.
Missing you much and loving you even more,
Mom
Dear Ry,
Tonight Dad and I had dinner with a couple who are atheists.They liken a belief in God to believing in Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy. Even though I confess to huge crises of faith, I still need to believe so it's upsetting to me to listen to discussions such as the one we participated in tonight. The thought of never being with you again is more than I can bear. So I will continue to believe even though losing you has rocked my faith to its core. Plus my happiest years were when I still believed in Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy.
Yesterday when I was in Modesto, I stopped by the library to see your tree. I was only there a few minutes but it was fun to watch the kids' reaction to the tree. They all touch it. One little chubby boy of about 5 or 6 years old, kept asking "Is it real?" Someone finally said "No, but it sure looks real, doesn't it?" I almost told him it was my boy's tree but I decided that would have been too complicated to explain. So I just stood there and quietly observed.
I got an email from Ms. Byers tonight saying she visited your website last night. She said "I realized that I had come to think of him as the kid who died, and yet when I watched the video my heart ached to see him so alive. It was a special kid."
I cringe when I think of people thinking of you as 'the kid who died". You were so much more than that. You were the kid who lived a whole life - a good life - full and fun and robust - in just 18 years.
Love and miss you with all I am,
Mom
Hello buddy,
I visited your grave today. I picked up the spent flowers and threw them away. I looked at each photo of you that is chiseled into the bronze headstone. I said a prayer, thanking God for giving you to us, if only for such a short time. I can't imagine what my life would have been like had you never been in it. (definitely less rich and fun and rewarding) Aas searing as the pain of losing you is, I'm still grateful to have had you. And I will miss you til the day I die.
You have a new neighbor at the cemetery. Someone was just buried next to you. The tent was still up and the flowers were recent. I couldn't find a name on the grave. I hope they know what a special spot they got, right next to THE Ryan Dickerson.
My friend, Ann Caulkins, who sent a card to me every week for the entire first year after you died, emailed this messge this morning.
"We lost a precious child from the kids' school on Friday. I will send you the obit. Will was brilliant - just graduated this year. I know he and Ryan will really like each other. I am thinking that God put Ryan on the welcoming committee for super smart cool kids that come to heaven, at least I hope so."
I hope so too.
I have begun writing twice a week on the Modesto Bee's Mom's site blog. So far I have chronicled our journey beginning the day of your death through September of 2007. I do it in hopes of enlightening readers on what it is like to experience such a profound loss. I have found society is ill equipped to deal with those of us who suffer an unspeakable tragedy. Debra told me today that a local businessman whom I know from Rotary told her he has been reading it. He intimated that it is hard to read. So many people have said that to me over the past two years. I feel like saying "if you think it's hard to read, imagine living it."
But I also get positive feedback from time to time that gives me cause to believe I am helping in some small way. My friend, Jane, just today told me because of what she has learned from me, she recently spoke to a co-worker who lost a child 7 years ago and told him she had been thinking of him and his son. She called the son by name (really important) and he was touched. He thanked her and said people rarely mention his son anymore. We bereaved parents live in fear of our children being forgotten and when people stop bringing you guys up in conversation, we believe that is happening.
I love and miss you so much, sweet boy.
Mom
Dear Ry,
We're home from Oregon where we saw beautiful scenery, tasted enough wine to last a month or more and met lots of nice people who are now our new friends. One particularly touching thing happened. We met a Japanese woman about my age who lives in Japan. She travels to the U.S. on business fairly often and usually attends this Great Grape Group wine weekend every year. Her English skills are much better than my non-existent Japanese skills but she is still difficult to understand. We hit it off right away but spent much of the weekend communicating via hand gestures and broken English. As I am wont to do, shortly after arriving on Thursday afternoon I told a small group of new friends about our tragedy. Kiyoko happened to be sitting next to me when I told my story. Later she quietly shared with me that she badly wanted to have children but was unable to. She suffered 7 miscarriages. She held her hands over her heart and then imitated tears running down her cheeks by trailing a finger down her face and said "broken heart, so sad, life dream". She didn't pretend to know my pain but she knew pain of her own - pain I can't know. So we bonded over our shared broken hearts. Last night, after we had said goodbye to most of the group and turned in for the night in preparation for an early departure to the airport, there was a knock on our door. I opened it to find Kiyoko standing there with a small gift wrapped box in her hand. She asked me to open it then. It contained a beautiful strand of pearls. In her faltering English she told me that in Japan pearls signify tears. She asked me to please accept the gift and wear them as a way of keeping you close in my heart. I was so touched by this virtual stranger's kindness and generosity. There are so many good people in the world. Kiyoko is definitely one of them.
After that sweet interchange, I told Dad it helped me understand how the many kids who knew you only 8 days at Camp Champions in the summer of 07 grew to love you as much as they did. Special friendships and bonds can be created in a very short period of time. I knew Kiyoko for less than 72 hours and I may never see her again but she touched my heart in a way I won't forget.
Just like you touched so many hearts in your short time here.
I am especially lonely for you tonight. Not sure why it's worse than usual tonight but it is.
I love you so very much.
Mom
Hello sweet boy,
I dreamed about you last night! It happens so rarely but when it does, it is such a treat. Dreams are weird - you would think that I would dream about you every night since you occupy so much of my psyche all the time but I don't. I think I have only dreamed about you 7 or 8 times in the past 24 months. In last night's dream, I found a letter from you on my desk. It was your distinctive messy handwriting and as I sat reading it, you came up behind me and put your hands on my shoulders. I was SO happy to see you.Then I found out that Julie, my former asst, had taken you to Tom Solomon who had taken you all around, including to the library to see your tree. Then you, Dad and I were in a park somewhere and you & Dad discussed building something that you had meant to build back in the Boy Scout days. You said "Let's build it in the fall and get JoAnne Serpa to help us." Later we were in church and you were sitting in front of me. I kept kissing you on the head and patting your shoulders. I was so happy to see you. Then I was thinking maybe I could contact WashU and they would let you come to school this fall since you were back. But all the time, I knew you were going to be dead again and I was trying to prevent that. It was a strange dream, as dreams are but it was so nice to be with you for a little while.
We were in Modesto this afternoon checking out a business venture. We took Natalie to Tasty Taco with us. As we were paying, the owner asked if she was our daughter. It flummoxed me for a moment. Then I said "She's sort of our surrogate daughter. She was our son's girlfriend - our son who died." Of course, that shut him right up. He's a young, 30 something year old and the subject of death stops all chit chat with that generation. Every time we're with Natalie, I leave feeling sad. Sad for us, sad for her, sad for all that could have been. She is a lovely, lovely girl. I know why you liked her so much.
Dad and I are off to Oregon in the morning for a wine tasting weekend with our friends, Rich & Mary, and a bunch of people we don't know.
Love & miss you so very much, bud
Mom
Dear Ry,
Today on the trail a teenage boy ran past us. He was polite and commented on how cute Scrumpy is. A minute or so later, his Dad ran by, huffing & puffing, and commented on how he can't keep up with his son anymore. A few minutes later, I noticed Dad sniffling and asked if he was crying. He nodded and kept crying. I said "That boy and his dad?" Then in a tear choked voice he said "I remember when we used to run together when we first moved out here. I would have to wait on him. Then by the time we stopped running together years later, he would be so far ahead that he would turn around and run back to me, then run side to side across the street, and run backwards, allowing me to keep up with him." So many things are reminders of all we have lost.
Dad told me he has been sad all day. He said he thought after yesterday (the anniversary of your funeral) passed, he might feel better but he doesn't. I think it's going to take a really long time if it ever happens.
Today's mail brought a lovely thank you note from Ariel, Gus' sister who got one of your scholarships. Here's what she said:
"I have truly never been more honored than when I received the Ryan Dickerson Scholarship. Thank you for your incredible generosity. The reason I feel so honored is because I remember Ryan as an extremely respectful and kind, and always hilariously amusing person. These traits were manifest in the smallest actions, such as when Gus, Ryan and I went to O'Brien's and the sandwich lady couldn't stop blushing because Ryan insisted on calling her "ma'am". He also had a way of making everyone feel included. I remember one day playing basketball at a park with Gus and Ryan and several of their friends. Due to Ryan, I did not feel the least bit awkward or self-conscious of my atrocious basketball skills because he accentuated his own goofiness on the court, shamelessly attempting several air balled shots. I still admire his confidence.
With the RHD scholarship, I will be attending UC Berkeley and I am undecided upon what I will study. I do know with certainty that I will continue to deeply respect and fondly cherish the memories of your son."
We love hearing those little anecdotes about you. They are such a gift to us. And it reminded me of how much you loved those sandwiches from O'Brien's deli. Gosh, I miss you so much.
All my love,
Mom
Dear Ry,
Chris and Brianne visited us today. They got here about 1pm and are in the driveway now, fixing a flat tire so they can go home. We laughed a lot. Chris told lots of funny stories about you. We watched videos shot by Kevin when you guys were making the big movie all throughout junior high and we watched the video of you & Mark in 8th grade working on your Call of the Wild project. It is so cute. I can't help but smile more than I cry when watching it. We looked at photo albums from 2001 & 2003. So many happy memories. Where is that time machine? Life was so good back then.
Your funeral was 2 years ago today. Still seems surreal. Right now you feel so alive to me after looking at all those pictures and talking about you all day. You could so easily just be away at school or something. I wish that were the case.
Love and miss you dearly,
Mom
Dear Ry,
Dad's brother, your uncle Paul, died 40 years ago today. He was also 18. It sort of freaks me out that both of you died at 18 and within the same week on the calendar. I now realize Paul had only been dead 7 1/2 years when Dad and I started dating. From my vantage point, it felt like he been gone a long time. I now realize 7 1/2 years is no time at all in the world of sorrow. I'm sure B & Granddad were still grieving, though I never saw signs of it. No one ever talked about Paul. There were pictures of him hanging throughout the house but his name was rarely mentioned. So different from how we are grieving you and trying to keep your name alive in conversation. Times were different back then and everyone does it their own way.
We went to Modesto today for the YES Company's production of Bye Bye Birdie. It was fabulous. Nick McClellan from our church was Conrad Birdie and he did a great job. I saw the Buckle boys and their sweet parents - all fans of yours. Debra introduced me to Nick's mom and sister in the lobby and by way of introduction said "you knew Ryan Dickerson, didn't you?" They both nodded yes. Once again, I was proud to be your Mom.
I only cried once - at the end of the play just as the standing ovation was beginning. I saw a couple - front & center of the auditorium - jump up immediately. I knew from afar they were proud parents of one of the actors. I couldn't stop the tears. It reminded me so of the many times Dad and I were the proud parents in the audience.
Steve visited your grave today and picked up the cards and letters left by your friends last week. There was one from Fallon, one from Cody Howell and one from the Griffith family. They wrote such sweet things to you.
We also got a note in the mail from Susie Baskin at Camp. Here's what she wrote last Sunday:
"Dear Lynn and Ron,
I've been thinking of Ryan all day. Although his passing (according to the calendar) isn't for a few days, my memories are strongest today. Ryan passed away on the afternoon of Trojan/Spartan games - the first Sunday of the third term. He was to officiate one of their relay races. As I look outside my office window, I see campers covered in red and blue tribal warfare paint competing mightily.
I know I have told you this before, but at Vespers later that same night, I saw the most glorious shooting star light a huge swath across the sky. Many of us witnessed it and we all had the same thought - a heavenly tribute and welcome to Ryan.
Tonight at Vespers I'm planning to talk about people who have impacted our lives through their love and kindness. I can't think of a better example of this than Ryan.
Thinking of you today
Susie"
I find the "Sunday" anniversary is harder for me than the 29th. I am so sorry you missed Trojan/Spartan games that day. You loved them as a little boy and I can only imagine you as a staff member. Your exuberance would have been palpable.
Words fail me when trying to describe how much we miss you.
Love you the most because I'm the biggest,
Mom
Hello buddy,
Dad and I got up early this morning and drove to the Sierras to participate in an 8 mile hike in memory of Matt Prentice. Matt died on New Year's Eve of 2003 on his way home from his girlfriend's house. His parents have become our friends. Today was the 6th annual Hiking for Matt event. At least 75 people turned out today to remember Matt. It was a beautiful, though fairly rigorous hike. I'm glad we went.
As we were hiking along, I found a shiny penny on the trail. It was a pristine trail - no trash of any kind - but there was a penny for me to find. Dad and I think it was a message from you, saying "way to go Mom & Dad" - I'm right here with you".
I have decided that next year, that is how we're going to commemorate the 29th of July. We're going to have a hike in your memory.
Last week our friend Brenda Morris sent this devotional. She said she sent it last year too but I don't remember getting it last year. My brain was fuzzier last year than it is this year. But I liked what it had to say.
"What's Your Handicap?
"What's your handicap?" the golfer asked his partner. "My childhood," said his companion.
Some handicaps are physical, certain limitations placed on our bodies. Other handicaps are emotional, burdens of heartache from sad or abusive childhoods. Others may be dealing with current issues -- perhaps facing a terminal illness or grieving an irreparable loss.
After losing my son, I found myself at a point where I simply could no longer stand the agony of waiting for my pain to disappear. I knew that all my life I would miss him, and I became absolutely despondent. There is no way out of this, I thought. I'm spending my life waiting for this pain to disappear so I can begin living my life again. But the pain will never disappear. And I'll never begin living my life again. That's when a gentle idea began to change my life.
I began to understand that I was living and working with a handicap. The loss would always be there. The pain and heartache would always be present. I could accept that, treat it as a handicap, and within that framework go ahead and live my life once more. The moment I made that decision, my attitude and perspective changed. I was able to go on, able to move forward.
Many of us are living with handicaps. Some will change over time, but other's won't. If that's the case, stop waiting for your handicap to disappear. Instead, decide to live with it. Work around it. Treat yourself with care, with gentleness. Allow yourself to feel and experience all the limitations and emotions of your present situation. Accept them. Let them be part of you, part of your experience. Despite living with a handicap, go ahead and treat yourself to life."
That's what we're trying to do - limp along through life even though we're amputees.
I love & miss you so very, very much, Ry.
Mom
Ry
I awoke this morning to find this lovely email from Mallory. It made me sob but it is a gift. Here's what she said.
"Mr. and Mrs. D,
The 29th has come and passed. I can't imagine what it was like for you two. Now, it's a whole another year that has to pass to mark the third anniversary. It's sad how each year isn't marked from December 25 to December 25, as it was when we were kids; instead, the countdown starts and ends on July 29. My sister and I visited Ryan's grave, where we saw Brianna, Brianne, and Chris. Brianna spread beautiful rose petals across his grave. It made my heart stop. How could something in a cemetery look so beautiful?
Ever since I left your house last week, I've been giving a lot of thought about Ryan. I was thinking of all the things he could have been, his options were endless. It wasn't until I began to think about all of the things he couldn't have been that I took comfort. He couldn't have been more loved. Second only to Lance Armstrong, the Ryan bracelet is quite popular. It is worn because of love throughout the year, not just to mark special anniversaries, and has become a part of everyone who wears one. He couldn't have been a better friend. Two years is a long time to be gone, but it doesn't stop people from bringing him up in everyday conversation. He had such an impact on us that no matter how hard we tried, we could never forget him. He couldn't have been a bigger influence on his friends and family. Doing RAKs in his honor is just one example of the influence his kind heart had in our lives. Since he has been gone, there have been countless comments from friends and family alike saying they want to change for the better to be more like Ryan. He couldn't bring more people together. I can't think of many examples of how someone's death brought so many people closer together. I know I've already said that he is like the glue that keeps our class together, but he's done more than that. He has brought together countless friendships that wouldn't have blossomed otherwise. Our friendship being one of these new found connections. He couldn't be missed more. People across the community have made such an effort to keep the memory of Ryan alive. Let's be honest, a relay held in most people's honor couldn't come close to being as successful as Ryan's Relay. Ryan is missed so dearly that everyone who knows him would give anything to have him back, but since that is not possible, they would give anything to make sure there are built in memories of him.
It brought me such comfort to know that all of these things he couldn't have done added up to be a wonderful thing. It may not have been the purpose we all thought was intended for him, but it was the purpose he accomplished. Not many people at such a young age could have such an influence on so many people nor could they accomplish such a purpose, but it was just a small task for your Ryan."
Mal still loves you and so do I.
Mom
Dear Ryan,
Well here I am on the first day of Year 3 without you. We have a strange relationship with time. In most ways, it feels like it happened 10 minutes ago and at the same time, I can barely remember what it felt like to be whole and happy.
As we have been from the beginning, we were blessed with love & support from friends far and wide. I am touched by how many of your friends and ours who remembered and called or texted or sent an email or posted a message on Facebook or sent a card. We felt the love.
We drove home today from the coast. On the drive home I read aloud to Dad from a book called The Incomplete One. It's a compilation of sermons given at the funerals of children & young people. One contained this poem that Dad and I both really liked. It speaks to the growth that comes from an enormous loss and the sorrow that follows. I would just as soon not had that growth experience but I wasn't given the choice.
The poem is by Robert Browning Hamilton.
I walked a mile with Pleasure
She chattered all the way;
But left me none the wiser
For all she had to say.
I walked a mile with Sorrow
and ne'er a word said she;
But oh, the things I learned from her
When sorrow walked with me
We have indeed learned much from our constant companion of the last two years, Sorrow.
Loving & missing you much
Mom
Ryan Dickerson will always live on. It is really clear, especially on this day, that the people who create so much excitement and happiness truly live on in our thoughts and dreams. I remember so clearly two years ago hearing the news, and reacting as if it could not be possible. As reality set in, you realize quickly how important your family and friends are and you struggle to ask how you can help. What to say? what to do? It is still difficult to answer these questions. I am so glad my family and I knew Ryan as long as we did and those memories and the fun times we all had will be with us forever. Lynn, Ron and Ross, my heart goes out to you all and may you continue to gather strength every single day. Always your friends, Chris, Becky, Madison and Abbey.
On this 2 year anniversary of your death I found this apropos quote from Nicholas Wolterstorff who lost his own 25 year old son and thus knows of what he speaks.
"The child was a gift. The grief does not smother the gratitude. And death, they all affirm, is not the end. We grieve, but not as those who have no hope. Yet none says that since death is not the end, we should not grieve. Though grief does not smother hope, neither does hope smother grief."
Hello there buddy,
Today Dad and I drove to Santa Maria to check out a business opportunity. It was a 3 hour drive so while Dad drove, I read and played these two new games on my i-phone to which I have become addicted because of Mal. I was absorbed in the word scrambler game when Dad pointed out we were passing through Cambria. It hit me like a brick. I wanted so badly to call you and tell you I was in our old stomping grounds from our summer trips to the Central Coast. I called Chris G instead. Then I cried and cried and cried.
Just like I did last year, I asked Dad to load the huge plastic bin of sympathy cards and bring them on this trip. I have spent several hours re-reading cards we got when you died. We received over 1000 cards and as I re-read them, I find I don't remember reading many of them the first time. I was in such a state for such a long time. I believe I went a little crazy for a while. So as I read them now, it's as if I am getting the comfort all over again. I cry as I read some but mostly I feel washed in love. How blessed we are to have so many people who love us. In one of our grief support groups, we met a man who had lost his wife a few months earlier. CPS had taken his only son away from him. He was a mess. I think he was a little mentally ill but regardless, he was hurting like we were. At one meeting he mentioned how he had received a sympathy card. One card! He was so proud of that one act of kindness. Dad and I both left that meeting feeling guilty for the abundance of love we have received. It really does make a difference.
In the cards tonight, I came across several things worth sharing here. One is a quote from Lindbergh who also lost a child. It sums it up pretty accurately.
"It isn't the moment you are struck that you need courage, but for the long uphill climb back to sanity, faith and security.'
It is indeed a long climb back uphill. We're still climbing.
I am worried about Ross. This week is hard for him too. We tried to get him to come here with us but he didn't want to. But I worry about him being alone. I hope Norrah is able to be with him tomorrow as she plans.
Tonight I found a note Sahil wrote on a note pad at our house the day after we got the awful news. He said "I always had a great time with Ryan and loved just going around and hanging out with him. He was always the nicest guy in the room. He was always "that guy" that everyone knew and loved."
I also found a note from one of the counselors from camp who was with you your last night on earth. Daniel Driver wrote this to us:
"I had the privilege of spending Saturday evening with Ryan and two other counselors. We went to eat at an All You Can Eat Chinese buffet and then we went to watch The Simpsons movie. That was the only time I got to spend time with him but I was amazed at how quick he was to laugh and what a loving and caring person he was. We were talking about camp and he was so complimentary of every one that he spoke of. He was content to be in the presence of all who were with him, even though we were all practically complete strangers enjoying a meal together. He had that kind of happy & open personality that I dream of having. He truly seemed as if he was enjoying every second of the time we spent together. I am so lucky to have spent that evening with him. I know my words offer little comfort but I want you to know that he was a great and amazing young man & that I want to live my life every day with laughter and smiles like Ryan did."
It's hard to believe that two years ago tonight was the last night we spent in that naive "life is good and we deserve it because we've worked so hard" state. Our lives forever more will be divided into the Before Ryan Died and After Ryan Died segments. Like a book written in parts.
We will miss you forever and ever until we meet again.
All my love,
Mom
Dear Ry,
Dad and I are in Pajaro Dunes, near Santa Cruz, at the Grover's condo, trying unsuccessfully to outrun July 29. We are blessed to have good friends who love us and generously offer us lovely places to spend our week of sorrow. Last year we spent it in Kirkwood at the Johnston's cabin - this year on the coast overlooking the mighty Pacific Ocean.
You would love it here. The waves are just outside our back door and the storage room is full of boogie boards. It reminds me of our summer days of yore in Cayucos with Chris. Such fun times those were. Oh what I would give for a time machine.
I am reading a book called The Wednesday Letters that Brianna recommended. I just read a chapter about a 17 year old boy dying of a brain tumor. He died on a Sunday afternoon, just like you did. I read this passage out loud to Dad and we both cried. "Now I know why the Lord took his day off on Sunday. That must be the day he personally greets his favorites."
Debra always tells me that even though she doesn't know what happened that dreadful day in July, 2007, she knows God was in that water with you. I sure hope so.
Later in the book there is a poem written by a dad to his son that reminded me of you.
"Each night in a dream
a wrinkled old man of philosophy
whispers in my ear,
'The perfect ones can be taken home early"
Each morning the new dawn
opens my sleepy, worn eyes
and sweeps me down a long hallway toward a small bed.
There's a boy in it.
He is my son.
And though I am only tending him,
I pray He will let us keep the boy another day."
Grateful we were able to tend you for 18 years, 5 months and 13 days...
All my love,
You sad ol' ma
Dear Ry,
Dad, Ross and I are like characters from a Saturday morning cartoon - running from a giant boulder of grief but it's gaining ground on us. The faster we run, the faster it rolls and as we look behind us, it's catching up, threatening to squash us flat.
Two years ago on this same Saturday Dad and I were unpacking boxes and getting Dad ready for Half Dome. I remember going to Raley's and buying trail mix and power bars for him. We were still surrounded by boxes and chaos in our new house. You called from Marble Falls, outside the WalMart, because you had the night off. You and your fellow lifeguards & counselors had gone into town to see The Simpsons movie. You ate and stopped at WalMart where you bought a set of poker chips & cards - clearly planning to put your Texas Hold em skills to work - wiping out your friends' wallets. Those poker chips & cards came home to us in your trunk - still in the WalMart bag, unopened.
You told me about finishing the Harry Potter book and how good it was. You mentioned that you had won the bet with Bryan about whether Snape was a good guy or a bad guy. You told me how much you liked your co-workers and some of the campers. You said "They are good people, Mom." We talked a good long time and I was so grateful for that time with you. You told me how much fun you were having and that it was just like being at camp except you were getting paid for it.
You talked to Dad for a few minutes and gave him a pep talk about Half Dome. You told him to take plenty of water and to not do anything stupid. You told him he could do it. We made plans to talk the next day and told you to have fun, be careful and that we loved you.
Dad and I worried because you guys were out on the road. We felt like camp was the safest three weeks of you summer, except for the few nights off when you guys would drive into town or into Austin. Little did we know what was ahead in less than 24 hours.
Last night was one of the few nights where I didn't sleep well. Fortunately through these hellish two years, I have slept pretty well. I awoke around 1am and just lay there for a long time. I played my "Ryan slideshow" in my head. There are certain scenes where I see you vividly. I worry about those memories fading so I call them up as often as possible. I miss you so much.
Yesterday was a good day for me on a couple of career fronts. One interesting thing happened when I was talking to a guy in Southern California about a franchise opportunity. I told him about losing you and I talked about how someday our surviving son would take over this business if we bought it. Later in the conversation he asked me what my other son's name was. Then he went on to tell me he lost his only brother to leukemia when he was 9 and his brother was 6. His brother's name was Ryan too. He has since named his son Ryan after that brother. He was very compassionate and understanding about our situation and our time line, knowing next week is the dreaded anniversary.
Abby is 20 today. You were always 5 months ahead of her on birthdays but she has passed you up now. You are 18 forever. Just think how handsome you'll be for all of etenity.
I love & miss you more than words can say,
Mom
Dear Ry,
My childhood friend died today. She fought a brief but brutal battle with cancer. Her daughter will go to college without her mom's send off & support next month. Her mother will grieve the loss of her child even though that child was 51 years old. I am sad for them. Tonight Dad and I were washing windows and I kept thinking how we were doing mundane chores while Sue's family was hurting so badly. The world keeps spinning regardless of our own personal tragedies.
Our former Wycliffe neighbor, Patti Pfeffer, sent this message today.
"Lynn,
I've been wanting to tell you & Ron this short story and with the 2 yr. anniversary of his death approaching, seems like a good time.
Julia was at ballet one day, and to pass the time the girls and some guys were thinking of different school cheers to do. After one of the "cheers" was recited, some of the dancers asked "....isn't that one of the cheers Ryan Dickerson started?" All smiled and agreed. The only reason I even heard about this was because Julia was quite moved that even in his death, he was still impacting these kids lives. She wanted to express to me how wonderful she thought that was. I know you feel the need to be sure he is remembered and that his life continues to touch others. Because of the examples he set, his memory is guaranteed to continue."
Hearing your name said by others is music to my ears.
I saw this quote today from Anne Lamott. She's one of my favorite writers and she beautifully describes what I often try to say about the importance of helping others carry their load of grief. There isn't anything anyone can really do but somehow it helps to have friends by your side. I am remembering those who have been here holding our hands as we trudged through the quicksand of life for the past two years.
"I believe that when all is said and done, all you can do is show up for someone in crisis, which seems inadequate. But when you do, it can radically change everything. Your there-ness, your stepping into a scared parent's line of vision, can be life-giving.... So you come to keep them company when it feels like the whole world is falling apart, and your being there says that just for this moment, this one tiny piece of the world is OK, or is at least better."
Love & miss you so much buddy
Mom
Hello bud,
One of the things I always admired about you was what a good friend you were to so many people. As a result you had loads of friends. Dad and I have been the beneficiaries of your magnanimous nature because many of your friends have been by our side literally and figuratively over these past two years. As we approach the dreaded 2 year anniversary next Wednesday, our hearts are touched by all the kids who care about us and want to help us hang on and get past that day. Mallory came to visit tonight. Brianna and Brianne are coming next week. Natalie is coming one day soon, as is Bryan. Madison & Gus ar coming on Friday. The girls are better at expressing their feelings and talking openly about our loss but the boys do it in their own way.
I learned today by reading a story in the Sacramento Bee that one of the Stone girls from Modesto was killed in a car wreck last month. She was my age so calling her a girl is a stretch but her parents are my friends and to them she will always be their little girl. She left behind 6 kids of her own. I know they must all be devastated. I have learned that losing a child is horrendous regardless of the age of the child. I am sad for them.
Tonight Ross and Mal showed us a website that calculates when you're going to die based on your birthday and your BMI and your outlook on life and a few other lifestyle choices. It says I'm going to die at 64 and Dad at 76. Dad is cranky about that. He's thinking of taking up smoking since it knocks 9 years off your life span. He certainly doesn't want me to beat him to heaven and get to see you first.
Love you, love you, love you,
Mom
Dear sweet Ryan,
I learned late this afternoon that my high school friend, Sue Smith, is in the final hours of her life. She has been battling cancer since Labor Day of last year. She has fought a valiant battle, professing her strong faith every step of the way. Her youngest child and only daughter just graduated from high school and is headed to A&M in August. It was Sue's dream to be able to take her girl to school. It now doesn't look as if that will happen. I am struck by the juxtaposition of their situation and ours. We were cheated out of taking you to college, something we were so excited about. And now Sue's daughter will be cheated out of having her mother by her side as she embarks on that exciting new adventure. In both cases, we were just a month away but fate had other plans.
Norrah had a big, elaborate dream about you. She awoke feeling good. I haven't had one of those in such a long time.
Today I began the process of looking into what it will take to become a counselor specializing in grief. I'm not sure that's what I'm going to do but it's one of the things I'm considering. Dad thinks it's a wrong choice but you know Dad, he will support me if I decide to become a circus clown. I'm starting a book called Thinking About Tomorrow - Reinventing Yourself at Midlife. (I personally hope I'm way past midlife but that's the politically correct term for 50 year olds.)
I love and miss you so much bud.
Ma
Dear Ry,
Dad and I both are trying to avoid reliving those final days of your life two years ago but it's hard not to. Maybe someday July won't evoke those painful memories but for now they seem impossible to avoid.
Today I made contact with a former colleague from my Texas newspaper days. I learned over the weekend that he lost his 31 year old daughter 4 years ago to an undetected heart condition. Geez - how many of those are there? I emailed him today and we shared our stories. He shared this poem with me that he wrote after his daughter's death. Here are Glenn Dromgoole's words:
Out of Darkness
When she died
my soul suffered
a power failure;
everything went
totally dark
for a while,
then it flickered
and you could see
a little light,
and then the light
got brighter,
but not as bright
as it was before,
never as bright
as it was before.
I think that's where we are - we see flickers of light now - not the pitch black darkness of so many months but certainly not the sunny, bright days of before either.
My new friend from the airplane yesterday told me healing from a significant loss - not even necessarily a child's death - takes at least 2 years and the person needs to tell their story at least 20 times. I relayed that info to Dad and he said "We've told our story at least 200 times and it's now been 2 years and I'm still so sad."
We miss you so very, very much.
All my love,
Mom
Hello bud,
We're home from Baltimore. We had a great trip. The weather was wonderful (a huge improvement over the 108 degrees it is was here today) and it was fun to catch up with our old friends. We talked about you a lot as we always do.
At dinner tonight, your brother reminded me that it was two years ago today that he saw you for the last time. Tomorrow morning will be the 2 year anniversary of the last time Dad and I saw you. I replay that morning in my mind often - wishing I hadn't been rushing you so to get to the airport on time and instead had focused no every second with you. I remember opening my wallet and giving you every dollar I had because I was afraid you didn't have enough cash. And I remember walking you to the car and hugging you goodbye in the driveway. Never dreaming it would be the last time I saw you or touched you alive in this life.
A very cool thing happened to me on the way home today. We flew Southwest so when we boarded the plane for the Phoenix to Sacramento leg, I chose a row with an older man already seated by the window. He looked kind. You know how I NEVER talk to my seatmates on airplanes. It's my unwritten rule. I just don't do it. Normally I read my book or do the crossword puzzle but I never chat with strangers on airplanes. Well, I ended up talking to this man for the entire 1 hour 45 minute flight. He is a Presbyterian pastor who now has a private practice with his wife called Windows of Awareness in Providence, RI. They do work with post traumatic stress sufferers and other kinds of emotional trauma. I told him of how I am transitioning to a new career and of my desire to do "grief" work. He was very helpful to me in suggesting avenues I might pursue. On the first leg from Baltimore to Phoenix I had spent some time asking God to point me in the right direction - to give me clarity and vision about what to do next with my life. So I think maybe God nudged me to sit next to that gentleman. It certainly felt like it.
Dad, Ross and I miss you so much, Ryan. I can't wait until we're all together again.
All my love
Mom
Dear Ry,
Dad and I are leaving at o'dark thirty tomorrow morning - headed to Baltimore for a reunion with some old Harte-Hanks friends. Should be fun. And we have healed enough that we can now set aside the suitcase of grief long enough to have a nice time with friends. That's a big improvement.
My former colleagues and Gary took us to lunch today for a farewell celebration. It was very nice and I only teared up slightly. No blubbering. Gary said many nice things about me and Dad. I will miss them but not the daily grind.
In the part of Only Spring that I read earlier tonight Gordon Livingston said
"Gary Hart, in a recent magazine interview, said that when he is recognized on the street and asked if he is Gary Hart, he replies, "I used to be." I feel the same way. I used to be Lucas' father. Now I'm one of the walking wounded."
I realized as I read that passage that I also feel that same way. I used to be Lynn Dickerson - mother of the water polo player, homecoming king, swimmer, IB student, cute boy who drove the dirty green Land Rover, coolest kid in town; newspaper executive; over committed community volunteer. Now I'm someone else - bereaved mother, retired executive deciding on the next chapter of her life. It's a strange sensation.
Mallory sent this email last night.
"It is so sad to think that we're growing up without Ryan. I saw the Harry Potter movie last night and couldn't help but think of Ryan and get sad. If only he knew how much he is missed!"
When Debra was here on Sunday, we reminisced about the time in our lives when we first started attending FUMC. Debra was the new pastor who also lived on our street. One of the first times we shook her hand as we left church, she asked you and Ross which one of you was the target of all the toilet paper in our trees. Those were your junior high days when we got t.p'd almost every weekend. And we could never get it all out of the redwood trees so our house was permanently decorated with streams of toilet paper high in the trees for at least three years. The t.p.ing never completely stopped but I was glad when you got a little too old to get t.p'd all the time. I miss those days now.
I will write to you when I return on Sunday.
Missing you so much.
All my love,
Mom
Dear Ry,
I miss you more than usual today. Your absence is as big as your presence was.
For almost 2 years now, I have unsuccessfully tried to articulate the difficulty of waking up every morning. I could never find the right words to describe that sinking feeling I get as soon as my consciousness registers that you are gone forever. But in this book I'm reading right now, Gordon Livinston does it well in describing his feelings associated with his 6 year old son's death.
"The mornings are terrible. I awaken early and there is an instant's peace beore I remember who I am and what has happened. Then comes the crushing realization that he is not here beside me and never will be again."
He says other things that resonate with me too.
"I've always felt lucky because I've always been lucky. When this happens, at some point you start to feel that you deserve it, that you've somehow earned it. I don't feel lucky anymore."
That was the case for us too. We had been so blessed up until your death. We had it all. I remember asking Debra if she thought everyone gets their share of bad luck in their life and because I had had so much good fortune, God took you as one gigantic bad thing to negate all that good stuff. She said no..it doesn't work like that. And gave me several examples of people and cultures getting way more than their share of bad luck.
Gordon Livingston also said this when talking about God allowing bad things to happen to good people:
"The most we can ask from Him is some help in marshaling our strength and courage. If the cards we are dealt are favorable - as they have been for most of my life - we are lucky and the game is a pleasure. When instead, we confront tragedy and pain, we can flinch or be angry, but still we play on as best we can until we die."
That's what our family is doing...playing on the best we can until we die.
All my love,
Mom
Dear Ry,
My first weekday of not having a job since 1982 had a strangely de ja vu feel to it, reminding me of the 7 weeks I took off in the summer of 2007 when you died. I will always be appreciative of Gary for being so generous with time needed to learn to breathe again before having to return to work. I don't know how people with 3 days bereavement leave do it. But I digress....being home on a summer weekday; walking the trail behind our house, waking when my body told me to rather than when the alarm clock buzzed - all reminded me of those awful days when my psyche was still vibrating from the jolt of losing you. But I practiced mindfulness and it was a good day all in all. We had lunch with Erwin and Silvia Potts who lost their 16 year old son 24 years ago. Their boy died just 2 1/2 weeks after Ross was born - there's that circle of life thing again. They have been incredibly supportive of us over the last 2 years.
A very cool thing happened to me today in the "what goes around, comes around" category of life. In the fall of 1988 when I was pregnant with you, I stopped in a maternity shop in Plano Texas to buy some clothes to cover my ever expanding waistline. The young "20 something" sales clerk was terrific! I was so impessed with her that I asked for her name & number. I later called her to interview for a job selling ads at the paper and hired her. She turned out to be not only a great ad salesperson but a lovely, funny, wonderful human being. She's now a mom of 4 year old twins and a 7 year old, living in Wisconsin. I haven't seen her in years - probably 15 years at least. She called shortly after you died but that was the one & only contact with her in all those years. Today she called again to say she had read about my career change. Her husband is an executive recruiter with a large national retailer, should I have an interest in that company. I can't begin to tell you how good that made me feel. Whether I ever talk to them or not is beside the point. The fact she thought that much of me, after all these years, was very touching.
Tonight I looked up a blog I read earlier in the spring written by Meghan O'Rourke. She chronicled her mother's illness and subsequent death from cancer. I wanted to send it to my friend, Dina, who buried her mom last week. Here is the last paragraph of the last entry. I liked what she had to say about loss.
"Loss doesn't feel redeemable. But for me one consoling aspect is the recognition that, in this at least, none of us is different from anyone else: We all lose loved ones; we all face our own death. And loss, strangely, can attune you to what is beautiful about existence even as it wounds you with what is awful. You live with a new sense of what the Victorian critic Walter Pater once called "the splendour of our experience and … its awful brevity," too.
Love you so much sweet boy,
Mom
Hello buddy,
There's a new Harry Potter movie coming out soon. It's those kinds of things that punch us in the gut. It feels unfair for them to continue making those movies, knowing you're gone and unable to see them. Ross is rereading all the Harry Potter books and is insistent that I read them too. He asked me to read a passage from the 5th book yesterday that reminded him of you. It was a conversation between Harry and Dumbledore about the power of love.
In his book Only Spring, Gordon Livingston articulates my feelings so well as he describes his feelings about his dying son. For instance he said this:
"In a world full of unjust death and misery, what makes the life of this boy so uniquely valuable? Part of the reason is selfish, of course. So much of my happiness is wrapped up in my vision of him growing up, becoming ever more extraordinary."
In the early days after your death, I grappled so with the unfairness of it all. How could God have allowed someone like you to die at 18 when there are so many 18 year olds out there who have no morals or character; who abuse their bodies and minds; who treat others poorly; who just take from this world without giving back? And how was I supposed to go on with my life knowing there would be no college experience or graduation; no wedding or grandchildren from Ryan? Dad and I still practice living in the moment because a future without you in it is pretty depressing.
It's Sunday night and I don't have to get up for work tomorrow. Yesterday I felt like the big tangled knot of uncertainty about what to do next was starting to loosen, allowing me to sort out some interesting ideas. But then today, yesterday's ideas don't sound as appealing to me. Debra and Steve came for dinner and Debra, my wise sage, told me to be patient and trust that things will unfold with time. We celebrated my newfound freedom with good champagne. Patience isn't my strong suit but I'm going to keep practicing it. And I'm going to enjoy waking up when I want to tomorrow morning. I like that idea a lot.
Loving and missing you so much,
Mom
Dear Ry,
This first day of the rest of my life has been a pretty good one. I gardened and read and walked and did both yesterday's and today's sudoku and crossword puzzle. All my favorite things. Dad and I rode out bikes to the farmer's market. As we cut through the parking lot of the hardware store, Dad asked me if the adirondack chairs reminded me of PawPaw. I asked him what he thought Heaven was like for PawPaw. Without hesitation he said "he has a little dog by his side in his workshop. He can drink a beer anytime he wants without MawMaw getting mad at him.....he has all his fingers.....and he can hear - unless MawMaw is talking too much and he doesn't want to." That description made me smile. I hope you're getting to know him - he is such a sweet, gentle man.
Dad and I looked at Brianne & Julia's pictures from Tuscany posted on Facebook . Dad said it made him sad because you're not getting to do those things. I said "Maybe Heaven is a lot better than Italy."
I learned today that Susan's niece who is pregnant with twins got bad news on Friday. Prenatal testing determined the babies have a rare genetic disorder with a long medical name that causes brittle bones. They won't be able to live. So, so sad. Susan and I were talking just the other day about how perfect Brooke & Brad's lives are. But as I keep learning over & over, there are no hiding places when tragedy comes knocking. I am so sad for them.
Today I started a new book called Only Spring by Dr. Gordon Livingston. He lost two sons - a 22 year old to suicide and a 6 year old to leukemia. He included this quote from J.M. Barrie that hit home with me, especially since I've been thinking a lot about how life doesn't turn out the way we envision it will.
"The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume it is with what he vowed to make it."
Speaks to how little control any of us really have in this world. When we are under the illusion we're in control, that's really all it is - an illusion.
Love you so much bud
Mom
Hello buddy,
I am emotionally drained tonight. I began crying at 5:30a.m. when the first of the so long/good luck emails began popping up on my computer screen. I cried numerous times at work as I said goodbye to co-workers and my boss. By the time I finally pulled away from 21st & Q for the last time as an employee of The McClatchy Company, I was totally wrung out.
Tonight we hosted a small dinner party for two other bereaved parent couples with whom we have become friends. It was a very nice evening. Everyone, except me and one of the dads, cried at one time or another. I guess I was out of tears. We also laughed. I showed them the YouTube video of you leading the school song at the IB dinner.
When I awake tomorrow morning, it will be the first time in almost 30 years that I'm not a newspaper employee. Really strange. I hope these feelings of disconnection subside soon.
I am bone tired so I'm off to bed. I love you very much.
Ma
Dear Ry,
We're back from our second funeral of the week in Stanislaus County. The send off for Clara was lovely, just as she was. I saw Michelle Minjares at the service. She's dating Jeff Riberio. (On the way back home, I told Dad I felt such an urge to call you and say "did you know Michelle is dating Jeff Riberio?" Instead I called Chris G and asked him why he hadn't told me.) She's as cute as ever and was very sweet to us. I told the entire Riberio family that Michelle had been your girlfriend in 6th and 8th grade. She just smiled sweetly.
On the drive home, I had my i-pod on shuffle and Old Time Rock n Roll came home. I looked at Dad and he was smiling to himself. Then I looked down at the clock and it was 6:36. It was a Ryan moment.
Speaking of Ryan moments and numerology. Debra sent this email to me a couple days ago. "Just checking face book and saw this. Made me think of Ryan and his love of these kind of number events. Shortly after 12pm on July 8, comes the moment that can be called 12:34:56 7/8/9. Happens only once a century. Too cool!"
You would indeed have liked that.
Tomorrow is my last day of work at The McClatchy Co. Still seems surreal. I'm ready to go though. The prolonged goodbyes are hard for me. I have cried numerous times saying farewell to colleagues who were leaving on business travel or vacation and won't be there tomorrow. Today I said goodbye to Julie, my fabulous assistant. I will miss Julie more than any other executive perk. She has been a great friend as well as assistant. I will always remember the day I returned to work after my 7 weeks off to mourn your death. I was sobbing by the time I got to my desk that first morning back. She followed me into my office and offered to put all the pictures of you away. I said no to that. Then she put her hand on my shoulder and said a beautiful prayer. It was something along the lines of "Lord, we know you can't fix what is wrong but we ask you to give Lynn strength to make it through today. Just today is all we're asking right now." There have many other times in the last 23 1/2 months when she has come to my aid when I was melting down. She would discreetly close my door or bring me a box of Kleenex or cover for me if someone important was looking for me and I was at my desk sobbing. On my and Dad's anniversary just 3 weeks after you died, she came to our house and brought dinner even though we had no interest in celebrating or acknowledging our anniversary. She said "28 years of marriage is important". She has done many, many thoughtful things for me including sending off your death certificate to get airline ticket refunds so I wouldn't have to; pretending to be me to untangle numerous bureaucratic knots associated with your death; buying me postage stamps with your photo on them for my birthday; running a marathon with your bracelet, etc, etc. I will miss her greatly.
And I miss you greatly.
All my love,
Mom
Dear Ry,
I have felt sad today. The process of leaving my job is emotionally draining. I cry everyday about something. I wish I didn't but I do. I am terrible at goodbyes. Only two more days and that chapter of my life will be over.
I'm also feeling anxious about our future. I wish I was hard wired differently. Some people in my position would take the severance and go to Europe for a month. Me - I've already let the cleaning people go, cancelled the Arden Hills C.C. membership, and created a new skinnied down family budget.
And I'm sad about all these deaths. I'm sad about Debra's mom, Dina's mom and my old friend, Tom Crane from Wichita Falls. His service was today. He was a lovely, classy, gracious man. I remember the first time I met him in 1997. After we chatted a few minutes and he told me all the things wrong with the Times Record News, he looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and said "My, my a Katie Couric in pants at the Times Record News." As a 38 year old woman, I was quite a novelty at the TRN and in town.
Erica wrote and asked for a new green bracelet. She's on her way to Argentina for a study abroad session and wants to take a little bit of you with her.
I am going to be more cheerful tomorrow. Promise.
Much love,
Mom
Hello sweet boy,
We said goodbye to Debra's mom today in a lovely memorial service and burial in a picturesque country cemetery. We sang two of the songs we sang at your funeral - Lord of the Dance and I Was There to Hear Your Borning Cry. We did okay through them. It was like a family reunion - seeing so many old friends from our Modesto church.
Later we stopped by Paper Habit to pick up thank you notes I ordered for Debra. We needed to drop them off at Steve & Debra's house. That's when Dad had a major breakthrough. Not only was he able to drive onto Wycliffe, but he went in on our end of the street. We drove by our old house and even slowed down and looked at it. It made us sad but we did it. I can't tell you how huge that is. There were cars parked in the little front drive area just like in our day. They were work men instead of Luty or Mark or Bryan or John or Chris or Lance or any of a dozen other cars that were there on any given day. It was always kind of fun to drive up and try to figure out who was there. It was rare for there not to be teenager cars out front.
I'm feeling anxious tonight - wondering if we should put our house on the market. The real estate market is lousy and we don't know where we're going or what we're doing but at the same time this house soaks up a huge amount of money each month. I'm not sure what to do. I wish God sent emails.
On the way home from Merced today I read aloud to Dad from a book called Hello From Heaven. It's stories about "after death communications" that people have had after losing loved ones. The stories are comforting to us as we continue to look for assurance that you are still alive and well somewhere. I loved this quote from Norman Vincent Peale.
"I firmly believe that when you die you will enter immediately into another life. They who have gone before us are alive in one form of life and we in another."
I like that thought a lot.
Love you so much bud
Mom
Hello buddy,
Dad just came home from the Apple store where he picked up your computer. He took it in last week for a repair. He just handed me the receipt with tears in his eyes and pointed out the purchase date on the receipt. August 3, 2006. One year to the day before we buried you. We thought we were buying your computer for your senior year and your college years. Unaware of the heartache we would be feeling one year later and the sharp turn our lives would take.
Last Sunday Kathi's sermon was on how life rarely turns out the way we think it will. She used the metaphor of a beautiful piece of pottery. Sometimes the piece of pottery, like our lives, gets knocked off the shelf and shatters into hundreds of pieces. There is no way to put the vase back together again; no way it will ever look the same again. But instead of sweeping up the pieces and throwing them in the trash, we can take the pieces, shards and slivers and make a mosaic out of them. The mosaic, while very different from the original piece of pottery, can be just as beautiful or sometimes more beautiful than the original piece.
As we left church that Sunday, I hugged Kathi and told her the sermon was meant for me. She said "I thought of you when I wrote it." She didn't know about my job at that time - only about you. Our lives will never be as good without you in them but the mosaic metaphor definitely fits the job situation.
I had lunch with Kathi today and we talked about the sermon illustration as well as about you. She said she doesn't believe anyone's life turns out the way they envision it will. That was shocking to me but as I ruminate on it, I think she's right. Stuff gets in the way - people die, jobs are lost, divorces happen, babies are born with birth defects, babies are never conceived, kids break parents' hearts, parents break kids' spirits, people get sick, and the list goes on & on. All the while we think everyone else's lives are just fine, thank you very much, and only ours are filled with hurt and disappointment. But in fact, suffering is ubiquitous. How we handle it is up to us.
We are leaving early in the morning for Merced to attend Pat Brady's memorial service. Debra is so very sad.
Love you, love you, love you,
Mom
Dear Ry,
In the last 8 days, 3 of my good friends have lost a parent to death. Joni's dad last Saturday, Debra's mom on Wednesday and Dina's mom yesterday. I knew and loved all three of those parents and my heart is heavy for their daughters.
I'm reading a book called The Mighty Queens of Freeville by Amy Dickinson, the Ask Amy advice columnist who replaced Ann Landers. It's funny and touching and reminds me of my own childhood in a family of interesting but lovable characters in small town America. I have laughed out loud several times and teared up just as many times. I had a hard time listening to the chapter where she describes the college process with her daughter, Emily. She tells of visiting William and Mary, just like you and Dad did. Emily ends up going there and I believe Emily is your age. I can barely stand to hear others talk of dropping their children off at college, helping them get settled, furnishing their dorm rooms and then mourning their empty nests.I have no sympathy for sad empty nesters anymore. What I would give to have a regular empty nest and not this permanent, ripped to shreds, twigs & straw thrown to the four winds empty nest.
Love you so much bud
Mom
Happy 4th of July bud,
Dad and I have been particularly melancholy the last couple of days. We now hate the month of July and the 4th is hard. You were a 4th of July kid. You loved the fireworks, the downtown parade, barbeques, etc but you especially loved the fireworks. I remember how excited you would get when the fireworks stands would go up in late June. We would begin our negotiations over how much money you could spend on them. I felt they were a total waste of money; you felt they were a once a year bonanza of quality entertainment! I remember with fondness the years you, Chris, Kevin and Jeremy had fireworks extravaganzas on our tennis courts. I remember your last 4th of July when you, Dad and I walked downtown and watched the parade from our church lawn. You were antsy to get back home and ditch us. Later, you, Natalie, Tyler and John came by our house for a while. That's when I took the last photos of you. We were busy preparing to move so things were sort of chaotic. Little did I know it would be our last Independence Day together.
In yesterday's Sac Bee there was a story about two bereaved moms whose kids died on 4th of July 2006 in a car wreck after rafting down the American River. The driver, a high school friend, had been drinking. The mothers have worked to make it illegal to have alcohol on the river. The story did a good job of illustrating the life long sadness that comes from losing a child. Both kids were outstanding people. One had just finished her freshman year at UC San Diego with at 3.7 GPA. The other had just finished his freshman year at Berkeley with a 4.0 GPA. He was an only child. His mom said this in the article: "I ran into somebody who told me "You look so great." And I said "Well, I'm not." People don't understand. Grieving doesn't end. We're completely different people now." ....Basically my husband and I have a very sad life. Joyless. It's as if it happened yesterday. I'm still on medication. I can't sleep anymore. Every night, I see him hitting that pole."
I read that part out loud to Dad and said "At least we're in better shape than that." He agreed. But we do understand what that mom is describing.
I got lots of emails and phone calls yesterday in response to my big news about leaving the newspaper biz. I felt loved and affirmed. A couple of weirdos posted nasty comments on the news story in the Modesto Bee but I keep reminding myself there are mean spirited people every where. One of the comments was blaming me for bringing Oliver North to Modesto a few years ago. Geez! Where did that come from? All in all, I got dozens of loving, encouraging messages. I appreciated them all. I really am ok with this.
We'll miss you so much today, Ry.
All my love
Mom
Dear Ry,
John visited us today. It's the first time we've seen him since he and Dad and Bryan jumped out of an airplane together last July. It was great to see him. He still imitates you and he's spot on. And he still tells stories about you. We love that. He spent several hours with us. What a treat.
Today it was announced that I'm leaving McClatchy. Kind of a big deal. I've been in the newspaper business almost 30 years and I haven't looked for a job since 1982. I have lots of emotions about it - I'm sad and a little scared and anxious but also relieved and excited about doing something totally different. I'm not sure what that will be. I will miss the big paycheck and it will take some time to untangle my sense of identity from my old profession. But it's time for a change - time to do something that brings a greater sense of satisfaction and maybe even a little fun. The last few years, especially the last two years, have been incredibly hard. They have been hard for everyone in our industry - even those who weren't grieving the loss of their precious child. I have one more week in the office and then I begin the next chapter of my life. Those pages are blank right now but I hope to fill them with meaningful content.
I keep thinking what you would have to say about all this. You would tell me not to worry, I know. You would also tell me to believe in myself. (Both Tyler and John have told me I have a "killer resume".)Ross has been really supportive too.
I also keep thinking how freaked out I would be about your $45,000/year college expense now that I have no job. But I would take that worry any ol' day if I could have you back.
Michael Jackson died on the same day that my career with McClatchy died. I have to confess I'm a little sick of hearing all the hoopla about Michael. It's worse than when Elvis died and I liked Elvis lots more than Michael.
Love you lots sweet boy
Mom
Dear Ry,
Debra's mom joined you in Heaven this morning at 2:25am. She waited until it was no longer Debra's birthday. I got up at 5:30 and checked her Carepage and learned the news. I sat at my computer and cried. I feel guilty that I'm not with Debra now. She was my life preserver when you died and for months afterward. She was the first person I reached that awful night. She said "I'm on my way." She was and she stayed for a long, long time. I don't know what I would have done without her.
I got a new i-phone today. Dad and I have been playing with it all night, figuring out all the features and loading my info. Dad said "you don't need your i-pod anymore now." I said "Yes, I do. Sentimental value." Dad teared up and said "I remember when he called me and wanted to buy it for you." That was Mother's Day of 06. You were a thoughtful, sweet boy.
It's been an emotionally exhausting day for your ol' mom. I'm heading to bed now. And I'm hoping Debra's mom gives you that hug in heaven that I requested.
God be with you til we meet again.....
All my love
mom
Hello bud,
Debra's mom is heaven bound shortly. Today has been an emotionally exhausting day for Debra and her siblings as they stand vigil beside her. She is in the final stages of dying. It hasn't been pretty and easy, like on TV. Even though I had hoped she would hang on until it was no longer Debra's birthday, I now hope it is soon. It's too hard on her kids to watch. I was so worried about Pat's death being on the same day as Debra's birth that I almost missed the significance of Pat laboring Debra into this world 51 years ago and Debra helping to usher her Mom out of this world on the same day 51 years later. There is something poetic and touching about that. So if Pat leaves this life before midnight, I think it will be okay.
I talked to Joni for a long time tonight on the phone. It's been almost 30 years since our friendship began in Houma, La when we were both young brides in our 20's. We now live on opposite sides of this big ol' country and rarely see each other, yet our friendship is still strong. We could talk for hours and not run out of things to say. We ended our long conversation tonight with the shared image of you and her Dad meeting up in Heaven. Mr. Ritter was quite the talker so we know you will get quite an earful when he finds out who you are. He saw you for the last time when you were 7.
Ross gave a speech in his class today. The assignment was to bring an item of importance and talk about its significance. Ross took the last Harry Potter book and told the class how he was reading that book when he learned his brother had died. Then when your trunk was returned to us, he got your copy out of your trunk. It was laying on his bed as he told me about his speech. I said "This one was Ryan's, wasn't it?" He said it was. I could tell because it was a little mishapen from getting damp and the jacket was crinkled. You always beat books to heck. I remember how Ross never liked to loan books to you because they came back to him looking as it they had gone through the wringer. You had that effect on things. You either chewed on them, spilled on them, or outright lost them. :)
At church on Sunday, we sang May God Be With you til we Meet Again. I've been singing it in my head ever since. It's my message to you and to Debra's mom.
I love you so much, sweet boy.
Mom
Dear Ry,
As I write this tonight, I'm pondering the circle of life. Joni's Dad died on Saturday and Debra's mom is in the final days, if not hours, of her life And Dayna Autry is in labor, delivering Al & Paula's first grandchild. The extremes of happiness and sadness being felt by friends we love.
Tomorrow is Debra's birthday. I find myself hoping her mom holds on for another day so that Debra's birthday isn't forever linked with her mom's death. Instead I hope July can be the month of shared sorrow for us.
Over the weekend we saw My Sister's Keeper, a movie about a young girl dying of leukemia. There's another character in the movie who lost a 12 year old in a drunk driving car crash. I now pay special attention to how Hollywood handles these subjects of which I am a self professed expert. They did pretty well this time. The judge whose 12 year old daughter was killed was described as having had "a very public nervous breakdown which required a 6 month leave of absence". Highly likely. I remember thinking I was having a nervous breakdown a few times and thinking what a relief it would be to have someone haul me away to some place where they would take care of me and make the pain stop.
Amy Ransom wrote a sweet note on my Facebook page today, thanking us for coming to her dance program. She said "I'm so glad you and Mr. D could make it! You two are such lovely people. No wonder Ryan grew to be the amazing, kind-hearted person I will always remember him to be. I hope to see you guys again sometime =)
Love,
Asian Amy"
Dad and I both cried when we read it.
Yesterday I was lying on Ross' bed chatting with him when he told me he started growing his beard after your funeral. That was the last time he was clean shaven. It is significant for him. Then we talked about how much we both miss you.
I love you so madly; I miss you so badly
Ma
Dear Ry,
Dad is home from summer camp. I'm not sure who is happier to have him here - me or Scrumpy. He had a great week though and loved his little 8 year old charge.
I met Dad in Modesto this afternoon so we could update our estate documents at the lawyer's office. Then we spent a couple hours with Bill & Louise Terra, our new friends who are newly bereaved. Then we went to MJC to see Dana and Amy in their dance production. Dad and I talked about how you would have hated it but would have gone, with flowers in hand, to support "Bondino" and "Asian Amy". We also talked about what a good counselor you would have been at the foster kids' camp with Dad. One of your natural strengths was your ease with younger kids. They always loved you. You were cool without being mean and you always knew how to talk to them. So many special skills and talents went into that grave. You are missed by so many.
I love and miss you so very much, bud.
Ma
Dear Ry,
My plane from DFW was delayed last night but I was grateful to finally land in Sacramento and walk out of the airport into the lovely Delta breezes. It was incredibly hot and humid in Ft Worth. I miss many things about Texas but not the summers.
As I was leaving the Star-Telegram on Wed, Don Burk, one of our advertising managers, stopped to tell me he thinks of us and you a lot and he hugs his little boys a little tighter every night. One is 5 and one is 3 and one is a swimmer, like you. I appreciate it when someone has the courage to acknowledge my loss and pain. I think most poeple think an adequate amount of time has passed.
I miss Dad. He's been at the Royal Family Kid's camp since Sunday. I've only talked to him once and that was brief and with a bad cell phone connection. Something big happened in my life today and I really need him here to share it with me. But ol' Scrump will have to do until tomorrow.
We're finally having our wills updated to reflect the change in heirs. It made me sad to read the verbiage...The Trustors have two (2) beloved children of their marriage, namely, ROSS CHANDLER DICKERSON and RYAN HUNTER DICKERSON who passed away on July 29, 2007.
Debra's mom entered Hospice care today. I wish I could trade places with her. All the people she loves most are still here and she's sad to leave them. Many, but not all, of course, of the people I love have already passed over. I sometimes fantasize about seeing you again when it's finally my time. Oh what a glorious day that will be.
I love this benediction that Kathi McShane, our Sacramento pastor, says every Sunday. I try to remember it but never can so I finally asked her to email it to me.
May God bless you, keep you, be gracious to you.
May God give you grace never to sell yourself—or God—short.
Grace to risk something big for something good.
Grace to remember that the world is now too dangerous for anything but truth,
And too small for anything but love.
So may God take your mind and think through it;
May God take your lips and speak through them;
May God take your hands and do something good with them;
May God take your heart and set it on fire.
I am asking God to do all those things for me.
I wish you were here tonight more than usual. I need your sweet encouragement.
All my love,
mom
Hello buddy,
I have to wake up at 3am tomorrow to catch a 6am flight to DFW for my visit to the Fort Worth Star Telegram. ugh. I hate these early flights. And I'm dreading the Texas heat - even for 2 days. How quickly we forget, huh?
Debra's mom is declining rapidly. It's a sad thing to watch someone you love leave this world a day at a time. Debra and her siblings are very sad. I feel like Pat is going to the foreign land where you are studying abroad. I'm envious that she may be with you soon. Debra has asked her to deliver a message to you so I know she will if it works that way. And I hope you are there to welcome her across when the time comes. In the meantime, I pray for her to not suffer needlessly and to not be afraid. And I pray for her family who loves her so much. It stinks to be the family left behind.
I must go so I can get a smidgen of sleep before schlepping through the airport with all the other half asleep travelers.
I love you so very, very much.
Mom
Happy Summer Solstice sweet boy,
Ross and I had a great day together. We got up early, wished Dad a Happy Father's Day and bid him farewell as he prepared to leave for camp and then we drove to Mt Tam in Marin County where we hiked about 8 miles. On the way we got caught in the Sears Point Raceway traffic with a million NASCAR fans. That slowed us down but Ross napped and I listened to my audiobook so it was okay. The hike was breathtakingly beautiful. We met up with the Sparkmans for the last few miles and then had a late lunch at Stinson Beach. We're now tired and a little sunburned but feeling good that we got out and enjoyed nature together. I know you're shocked Ross went with me and I must confess I was too. Once while we were taking a break by a pretty stream, I said "Now aren't you glad you're here and not home in your room on your computer?" He looked up at me and said "I could have read a book about it." It made me laugh because that would be such a Ross thing to do. But he enjoyed the day too.
On the drive back home we talked about you and how much we both miss you. We talked about the last phone call we each had with you.
Both of us talked to you on the day you died. Earlier this weekend we were talking about you and about a Modesto friend who wrote me to say he too has lost his son - not to death but to drugs and homelessness. Ross said this to me... "Of all the ways to lose someone, death is the kindest." hmmmm...words to ponder.
The barbeque for Dad yesterday turned out well. Natalie couldn't make it because of Kirk Lindsey's funeral and Lance & Tyler were no shows but Bryan, Chris, Brianne, Mallory, Dana, Amy, Kevin, Jeremy, Lauren and her new boyfriend were here. Mal made placemates and napkin rings with photos of you for us. They are very creative. We cried, of course. It was a fun night and Dad felt loved. Brianne leaves Wed for Italy for a month so we were able to say goodbye to her.
I just talked to Mrs. Giahos. Vas is having a great time at Boys State. I wish you were here to compare notes with him since you, too, loved it. And Steve is on the Berkeley water polo team - the real team. Somehow I missed that - I thought he was playing club polo but no - he's on the real NCAA team. Isn't that something?!
I'm going to close tonight with lines from a Leonard Cohen song that Elizabeth Edwards quotes in her book. She includes this in the section where she talks about making the most of life in spite of being dealt a crappy hand. I really love what it says:
"Ring the bells that still can ring.
Forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack in everything.
That's how the light gets in."
I love and miss you much
Mom
Dear Ry,
Yesterday I received a carepages.com update on my childhood friend, Sue, who is valiantly fighting a brutal battle with cancer. She was diagnosed last September and told she was terminal. She fought hard, and continues to fight long after I think many of us would have given in. Her youngest daughter just graduated from high school so she wanted to be around for the joys of senior year. She still has much to live for, yet her tumors continue to grow and her battle intensifies. I admire her courage and spunk. I guess we never really know how we would react in a similar situation but I am fairly sure I would go peacefully and without a fight. As Elizabeth Edwards says in her book..."Death looks different to someone who has placed a child in the ground. It is not as frightening. In fact, it is in some way buried deep within you almost a relief....It is not a death wish. It is an appreciation that there might be in death some relief that life itself could never offer."
Tomorrow we're having a small barbeque for Dad with some of your friends who are home for the summer. Many are gone off on adventures far and wide but a few are around so they are coming to celebrate Father's Day a day early with your Dad since you can't be here to do it. As we continue to search for ways to parent your memory, your sweet friends are great about serving as our surrogate kids, helping us feel that connection to you even 23 months after you left us. Dad will actually be gone on Father's Day itself. He's headed to Royal Family Kids Camp again this year to be a counselor for foster kids. He did it last year and it was a meaningful experience for him and for the kids.
Dad and Ross each just called me to tell of their snake experience on the back patio today. Scrumpy found a big snake next to the lemon tree. Dad and Ross corraled it into some kind of plastic bin and called the animal control people who came and offered to take it away for $20 or let it go free elsewhere nearby. Dad suggested the vacant field nearby but instead she dropped it at the new house next door since no one lives there. Geez! It will be right back in our yard in no time flat. I told Dad that Nanny is surely laughing at him from heaven. She would have chopped its head off with a hoe and flung it in the bushes and gone back to work. She certainly wouldn't have paid twenty bucks to have it carted off!
I love you dearly sweet boy.
Mom
Hello sweet boy,
I'm reading Elizabeth Edwards' new book Resilience. I loved her first one and I like this one too, especially the parts about Wade - her son who died in a car accident at age 16. I really connect with this woman. I wish I could meet her. The things she writes could be my words if only I were as good a writer as she. Last night I read aloud to Dad a passage that made me once again think that maybe the good really do die young. Not everyone who dies young is good and that whole "free will" thing gets in the way of long lives for many but I believe more and more as I learn of other young deaths that maybe some of you were sent here for a short time. Like you, Wade Edwards was a really good kid. As I read the essay his mother wrote about him shortly after his death, I was awestruck with the similarities in how she described him and how I would describe you. It's too long to retype the whole thing but here are some excerpts from the essay Elizabeth Edwards wrote about her boy whom she loved as much as I loved you.
"Wade was 16 when he died. On April 4, 1996, the wind blew across a North Carolina field and pushed his car slightly off the road. Slightly but enough. When he tried to bring it back on, the car flipped The air bag came out, the seat belt held, then the roof collapsed on him. The other boy walked away. Some dishes he was taking to the beach for us were unbroken. Our boy was killed instantly. It wasn't speed, it wasn't inattention, it was a straight road on a clear afternoon and it simply was.
And what that wind took at Easter was a cherished boy, a remarkable child with the character of a man.....He was a loving son and brother, hodling our hands, hugging us, no matter who was around to see. He was a loyal friend always there when his friends needed him, but never succumbing to peer pressure. He never drank or smoked. When a parent who came on the accident asked if drinking was involved, the boys there all answered, "Wade Edwards? No way." He usually drove home those who did drink. He was intelligent and determined. His conversation in the car that day was about how he wanted to be a lawyer, but he didn't want to take anything from his parents, he wanted to do it all himself....He was humble and shunned the spotlight....He was fair-minded....Though he had many gifts, he never thought of himself as the tiniest bit better than anyone else. And he chastised those who treated others poorly......His joys were my joys, his pains were multiplied to be my pains. I woke to him and slept only after his lips grazed mine. As private as he held some details of his life, protecting those he cared about from my judgment, his broader life was open, bare before me. I was the witness to all things he valued, most of which were intangible.....We know that we can never make sense of his loss. He had done it all right. Of all he wanted, he wanted most to be a father someday. And what an unbelievable father he could have been with his compassion, his warmth, his patience. He was a rare gift....And he left everyone he touched the better for knowing him. We stand a little straighter in his shadow."
Those same words could have been said about you, Ry, by your ma who thought you hung the moon.
I guess we'll never know why good boys like you and Wade Edwards and Mike Ford and Daniel Hyde are taken so early and all those ne'er-do-wells keep dodging bullets, literally and figuratively. Maybe someday we'll understand. For now it makes no sense.
I love you with all that I am
Mom
Dear Ry,
I was reading a news story online and somehow found myself at a list of all the famous people who have died this year. That list led me to the list who died last year and in 07. So I looked at the list from '07 to see who left this earth the same year as you. There were some interesting ones: Art Buchwald, the columnist; Anna Nicole Smith, the bimbo; Kurt Vonnegut, the author; Don Ho, the tiny bubbles guy; Tom Poston who played George on The Newhart Show; Jerry Falwell, the preacher; Liz Claiborne, the fashion designer; Joel Siegel, the movie critic; Beverly Sills, the opera singer; Lady Bird Johnson, the former first lady who hated litter and loved wildflowers as much as I; Tammy Faye Baker, the overly made up TV evangelist who spent time in the Big House; Tom Snyder, the TV Host died on the very same day as you; Merv Griffin, the talk show host of olden days; Brooke Astor, the Manhatten socialite; Leona Helmsley, the hotel magnate; Pavarotti, the singer; Jane Wyman, the actress & Ronald Reagan's ex wife; Marcel Marceau, the mime; Joey Bishop, the talk show host of days gone by; Porter Waggoner, the Grand Ole Opry singer who sang with Dollie Parton; Mr Whipple, the toilet paper squeezer; Evil Kneivel, the daredevil; Ike Turner, the singer/wife abuser and Dan Fogelberg, the singer who sang one of my favs "Another Auld Lang Syne". But you were the most important person in our world who died in 2007.
Today I saw that quote I liked so much about caterpillars and butterflies. Here's how it goes:
"What the caterpillar thinks is the end of the world, the butterfly knows is only the beginning."
I really, really like that thought.
Today my friend, Francesca, emailed with memories of me telling Ryan stories when we worked together. She said she felt like she knew you just from me unabashedly bragging on you all the time. Then she recalled seeing you coming in the Bee for Teens in the Newsroom as she was leaving one night and realizing that cute boy was Ryan Dickerson. Hearing her memories jogged a video clip in my brain of you coming through the door of my office at The Bee, sort of nodding and smiling that crooked grin to my asst and then coming into my office, behind my desk and giving me a hug. I was always so glad to see you. You always brightened my day, no matter how crappy a day I was having.
I miss you so very much.
All my love
Mom
I love and miss you so much, bud
Hey bud,
Miss Carol Whites called today and we talked a long time. She said my letters to you have taught her things. I'm glad about that. She told me of how her aunt died at 19 many years ago and how she (Carol) would change the subject when her mom tried to talk about that sister she lost at such a young age. She thought she was doing the right thing but through my grief has learned that it's better to let the griever talk...no matter how much time has lapsed.
Today I read a beautiful letter that was sent to the parents of the 19 year old Jesuit grad who died last week from an undetected enlarged heart. Just like you. I'm told his uncle read an eulogy written by his dad that said it was a great analogy to what a big heart Michael had. I've said that same thing about you.
The letter was written by a teacher and coach from Jesuit who knew and loved him in high school. He writes eloquently and I liked what he had to say. Tom Shakely said this: "I’ve read numerous Christian books about death and loss, daily seek the wisdom of scripture and Godly people, and know that the only reason it hurts is because of the love. And I know love wins, that God wins, that our precious children have had the “good fortune” to have met their Savior in life, and return to him for eternity. Still . . . the tears, the pain. Daily, I repeat the memorized sentiment of a small gift which beckons daily with its reminder “that I’m so grateful that Kelsey Burke Shakely blessed my life.” ..... The all-too-familiar tears and breathing choked by sobs that wells up in me as I write this testifies to the power of love and gratitude. Like some law of the spiritual universe, the degree of pain is equal to the power of love. And all my experiences, all my reading, all my faith in, and love of God, cannot spare me from the price of that love. No words can adequately express it, nor make it all better, nor undo what has happened. I’m stuck; we’re all stuck: the blessing and power of Love has a great cost, since on this side of eternity, life is a letting go."
As much as I still hurt, I too am grateful that Ryan Hunter Dickerson blessed my life.
all my love
ma
Hello sweet boy,
Today I went to your Facebook memorial site and read many of the entries posted by your friends in the first few days after you died. They made me cry but also helped me feel closer to you. Those days were horrific - the worst of my life but somehow reliving them makes you seem closer. Plus I like to read all the nice things said to you and about you. I was so proud of you and loved you so very much. As I always said...you were the joy of my life.
My friend Margaret from Modesto who lost her husband about 6 months after we lost you wrote to me last night. She said this, referring to her husband..."I miss hearing his name spoken. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who remembers him. And then one of the kids will make a "wouldn't Dad have liked that" comment.....that lifts my spirits."
I know how she feels. People don't say your name often anymore either. I wish they did. Debra still brings you up in conversation sometimes and I love that about her. Occasionally Susan and Stephanie do. But mostly it's just Dad and I who still talk about you daily. I know everyone else hasn't forgotten you...but life goes on...and they don't want to make us (or themselves) sad, I suppose.
I think I'm going to re-watch the dvd of your funeral next week while Dad is at Royal Kids Camp. I know Dad isn't up for that but I want to hear all the things said about you again.
We stopped at In-N-Out after church today while out running errands. It was the one in Roseville where we used to go during polo tournaments at Rocklin. I have so many memories of taking you guys there during breaks. I also remembered the time we stopped at In-N-Out on our way home from Tahoe with Mark and they didn't give him any salt. It was funny at the time and every time I fail to get salt for my fries, I think of Mark grousing about it.
I have homework to do before I can go to sleep so I must get at it. And tomorrow is Monday again. ugh.
Oh yea, someone died climbing Half Dome yesterday. A 40 year old man from the Bay Area. I think it was rainy. It was the first death since 2007 when there were two.
Loving and missing you more than normal tonight.
Mom
Dear Ry,
Shortly after picking up the mail yesterday, Dad called and told me of a letter that arrived from a boy who knew you at camp. He choked up and couldn't read it to me over the phone. It was indeed a lovely gift. Here is what it said:
"Dear Mr. & Mrs. Dickerson,
You probably don't remember me, but I wrote you after Ryan's death two years ago. As much as I wish that you have found peace in the turmoil of the last two years, it is my certainty that you haven't. I couldn't possibly imagine the pain that you have experienced, waking up everyday & realizing that Ryan is no longer with you. Rest assured when I tell you the rest of the world is equally saddened. In the seven days that I was blessed to know him, I observed a certain caliber of character that in today's world is a definite rarity. A week after Ryan's death a group of my close friends and I took a trip to the Davis Mountains, where we discussed the impact Ryan had left on Camp Champions in his short stay. His empathy, kindness, spirituality and sense of humor were the main topics of conversation. If you have never been, I hope you can make the trip to stare across the mountain range on top of that picturesque overlook because it is the place that restored my faith in God & allowed me to begin the healing process. It is on this note, that I want to urge you, just as I did in my last letter, not to focus on how he died, but on how he lived. Every couple of days, I visit Ryan's MySpace page to look at the loving remarks & notes that his friends leave him even almost two years after his passing. A person like Ryan is a true rarity in today's world. I, myself, am truly thankful that I was given the opportunity to experience his grace for even such a short period of time.
Always,
Kyle Argerbright
And then today Duke Leffler wrote this on your facebook....
"you have a ton of charisma and i can relate to that but what was extraordinary about you was your character. you were just unflappably good and you touched everyone."
I like that - you were unflappably good. Nice choice of words by Duke.
Boy, do I miss you.
All my love,
Mom
Hello there sweet Ryan,
Dad and I just got home from a nice dinner with our friends,Buzz & Kathi. We talked about you, our grief, heaven, and all those things.
Then when we got home and I checked my emails I had this one from Phelps' mom. It made me smile.
"I went to pick up Spenser today at UCI, and when I arrived (in his defense, a LITTLE bit early), nothing was ready. His room was so messy it almost smelled. I felt so bad for Robert Mah, who has roomed with him this year. Anyway, it took us hours to get out of there, between the packing, the cleaning, the trips to the car, his checking out, the returning of his books (which he absolutely should have done yesterday, along with most of this other stuff); and at one point I just sat in the car, fuming. I had awoken at 4:00 AM to be down there in a timely manner, and his room was just a pit, a sty, all of those other words. Then I told myself that you would give anything to be sitting in a college parking lot waiting for your goofy son to get this s**t together so you could haul his miserable butt home. I actually let go of all of my anger in that moment, and felt such a spasm of grief for you...I shared all of this with Spenser on the long drive home, and at the end I tacked on "Although I don't think Ryan would have been sitting in such a mess when his mother arrived, I don't think he was as sloppy as you-" My son looked at me and said, "Um, I think you're wrong about that, Mom, did you ever see inside his car or his swim bag?" We both laughed so hard! So your son brought a rare moment of togetherness and humor to me and mine..."
And he was right. You were many things but neat wasn't one of them. Never in your whole life. I remember when you were about 6 and we visited the Barnards in upstate New York. After a few days there observing your behavior - especially your messy eating habits, Joni said "I don't know what you pay that woman who does your housekeeping and laundry, but it's not enough."
And Ross always got mad if you borrowed a shirt because it was sure to come back to him permanently stained from Taco Truck drippings or grease from Chefs of New York pizza or something. Just last week, Alyssa's mom told me she still has the thank you note you wrote them for your graduation present and she commented on the messy handwriting. But you were a loveable pig.
Love and miss you so much,
Mom
Dear Ry,
Something odd just happened that tells me I'm moving forward as unlikely as that may seem. I walked down to Rite-Aid to buy a couple of birthday cards and as I was checking out, the clerk asked me about my bracelet. He said "Are those your kids on your bracelet?"(I am wearing my 50th birthday photo charm bracelet that my girlfriends gave me.) I said "Yes, they are." Every other time someone has commented on my bracelet I have felt compelled to tell them you died. It always makes people feel awkward and uncomfortable but until today, I couldn't NOT say it. So I guess today was a break through of sorts. Coleen told me I would get to the point where I would make a decision whether the person I was talking to was worth the investment to tell them. I guess I'm getting there.
Brianna sent an email early this morning telling me of a 21 year old girl in Indiana who just didn't wake up on Sunday morning. She is the younger sister of one of Brianna's sorority sisters. She was born in April before you were born in February and just finished her second year of college. She appears to have been a lovely, smart, sweet, accomplished girl. I read all the memorial guest book entries written to her family and carried a little of their suffocating grief around in my heart today. There has been a rash of young people dying over the last couple weeks. I want to envelope each of their moms in my arms and protect them from the awful beating they are taking from life.
Today would have been the 23rd birthday of Matt Prentice - the son of one of my grief friends. Our other friend, Robin, sent the nicest email to both of us today. I loved what she had to say.....
"My morning devotional is the one you gave me Debra which I love. My evening devotional is Streams in the Desert. I particularly liked the entry for June 7th: The scripture was Job 35:10, “Where is God my Maker, who gives songs in the night?”
The writes asks,
“Do you ever experience sleepless nights, tossing and turning and simply waiting for the first glimmer of dawn?” [uh, yesssssss.] “When that happens, why not ask the Holy Spirit to fix your thoughts on God, your Maker, and believe He can fill those lonely, dreary nights with song?
Is your night one of bereavement? Focusing on God often causes Him to draw near to your grieving heart, bringing you the assurance that He needs the one who has died. The Lord will assure you He has called the eager, enthusiastic spirit of your departed loved one to stand with the invisible yet liberated, living and radiant multitude. And as this thought enters your mind, along with the knowledge that your loved one is engaged in a great heavenly mission, a song begins in your heart.”
I love that; picturing our eager and enthusiastic children, Matt, Ryan, & Kelsey, as part of the liberated, living and radiant multitude, engaged in a great heavenly mission. We don’t know what their mission IS [not WAS] but God does. So, when the external music fades, here’s to the song that continues in our hearts."
I do in fact like the thought of you being liberated, living and radiant while engaged in a great heavenly mission.
I just saw a modbee.com email update announcing Kirk Lindsey's death. He was the big guy who coached the girls in swimming and polo at Beyer. You were always sort of afraid of him though he was much more bark than bite, in my dealings with him. I liked him. So I hope you bump into him in Heaven and the two of you can talk about Natalie. He coached her; you loved her.
And I love you.....more than words can say.
Mom
Hey bud,
In Elizabeth Lesser's book Broken Open, she says "Everything can change in a moment; we have little control over the outer weather patterns as we make our way through the landscape of a life. But we can become masters of the inner landscape. We can use what happens on the outside to change the way we function on the inside.......
When we have been through a trial and survived it - or better still, transformed its terrors into revelations - then we begin to approach other adversities with a different attitude. Change and loss may still knock us off the horse, but soon we are back in the saddle, stronger and wiser than ever. As life progresses, and we continue to transform and refine our consciousness, we gain more insight and humility, greater strength of character, and deeper faith in the meaningfulness of life." hmmmmm...I'm working hard on becoming the master of my inner landscape but that is easier said than done.
Last night while Debra and I were talking about her mom's illness I told her I want to talk to her mom about finding you in Heaven when she gets there. Debra said they have already talked about it. Pat told Debra she prays for Dad and me because losing a child is the worst loss she can imagine. Debra told her that when she gets to Heaven to please look for you and tell you how much we miss you and if possible, send us a sign that you're both ok. I hope that will be possible. I wish I could trade places with Pat. I am sad that she must leave her children and grandchildren too soon and also envious that she's going to see you sooner than I will.
Love and miss you so very much,
Mom
Dear Ry,
We just learned today that Granddad is in the hospital in ICU. We had been trying to call him all weekend and yesterday. Finally, today Dad called Uncle Larry to check on him. Turns out he fainted at the Belle Jim Hotel last week while having lunch and they carted him off in the ambulance. They haven't been able to figure out what is wrong with him, other than he's 84. I can't believe Uncle Larry didn't call and tell us. Said he didn't want to worry us. Dad said "I'm not worried - just envious." Dad still struggles with a serious death wish for himself. Dad called and talked to the ICU nurse. She said he's doing well and everyone there loves him. That doesn't surprise you, does it?
Today I learned of the death of a 19 year old boy who died Saturday It sounds like what happened to you - collapsed in a pool for no apparant reason and died. He was an '08 Jesuit graduate who had just finished his freshman year at St. Mary's. The story in the paper said this about him, which reminded me of things said about you...."“Michael was always the life of the party, said Scott Krizman, a Sierra Express teammate for four years. “He was 100 percent fun, and the real fun began when Michael arrived.” I hope you are friendly to him in Heaven even though he was a "Je-suit".
Now that school is out the cross country kids are training on our trail. Dad, Scrumpy and I dodged a dozen of them tonight on our walk. They remind us of you. Fresh faced and friendly. Dad and I talked tonight about the year you chose to train with the cross country kids even though you didn't run cross country. I think it was the year you were training for the triathlon. I remember how much fun you had running through downtown and through parking garages. You got to be friends with the Lewis girls and a whole host of new pretty girls joined your entourage. You were always up for an adventure. Dad and I discussed that tonight - how life was one big adventure for you. That's why I loved when Krista Mensonides quoted the Peter Pan line that fit you so aptly...."To die - what a great adventure".
Today I told my grief sister Robin, who lost her 20 year old Kelsey a year ago in March, about Louise Terra's tragedy of losing two kids and two grandkids last month. Robin, who is an asst. DA but a writer at heart said " I think I could not have hurt more, but who’s to say what infinity X 4 feels like." Beautifully put.
I'll love you forever
I'll like you for always
As long as I'm living
My baby you'll be
Mom
Hello sweet boy,
Yesterday was the 13 year anniversary of B's death. I hope the two of you are together now and she's able to grandmother you to her heart's content. It was a role she loved and she waited a long time for it, only to have it cut short because of her cancer and early death.
A good friend from Modesto drove up yesterday and we spent the morning together. On our 7 mile walk down the American River trail we discussed our disappointments, losses, pain, worries, theology, anger, life philosophy and even a little hope. She shared with me the lyric from a song that I can't get out of my head because it is so very true..."We are all just one phone call away from our knees." We've had that phone call unfortunately. I hope we never get another.
There was a fire in a daycare center in Mexico on Friday that killed 38 children. Many are seriously injured and some more will surely die. I hurt for their parents. Someone loses their baby every day in this mean old world.
Today in church we sat behind a beautiful, young family. The mom is very pregnant and they have a little boy about 4 and a little girl about 2. I watched them throughtout the entire service, thinking that's what our family looked like not so very many years ago. (I know you were a boy and not a little girl but you get the idea.) I was jealous of them and their innocence and their wholeness and their future. I wished to turn the clock back 20 years and have those times to do over again.
I'm reading this book called Broken Open by Elizabeth Lesser. I saw her on Oprah one day with a family who had lost a son. My buddy, Bob Weil, bought the book for me and I have been reading it slowly - one chapter each night, since January. Last night in a chapter called Ch Ch Changes she quotes Dante....."In the middle of the journey of our life, I found myself within a dark woods, where the straight way was lost." I realize that's where I've been for almost 23 months..in a dark woods trying to find my way because my straight way is lost.
Love you so very, very much
Mom
Dear Ry,
My heart is heavy today for a family I don't even know personally. My normal weekday routine is to awake at 5:30, check emails, then ride the exercise bike while I read the Bee. I awoke today to the horrible news that our top sales rep in our Rock Hill, S.C newspaper lost her 21 year old son last night in an auto accident. He was her only child and she adored him like I adored you. I have been sad for them all day, knowing the disoriented, hellish state in which they are existing.
My bereaved mom friend in North Carolina, Tammy Garlock, is coming up on the first anniversary of her son's death on June 12. He died while using his cell phone so they are attempting to increase awareness about the dangers of cell phone distraction as a way of honoring his memory. Here's what she wrote in her blog yesterday.
"It took many months of grieving before my family was able to acknowledge a very simple truth. Our beloved son and brother, Brian, lost his life due to a series of seemingly inconsequential decisions that many of us take for granted every day. This horrific chain of events began with a distraction, one that is quite common in our City and beyond. Brian looked down at his cell phone to make a call. He looked up and followed his friend’s truck into oncoming traffic. He died approximately two hours later.
In late March, our family decided to give away 2,500 pink and black silicone bracelets. Pink was Brian’s favorite color, and he loved to wear calf-high black socks while playing golf or wearing sandals…
We are sharing our story and asking any takers to please pledge to not use their cell phone while driving, at least on June 12, 2009, which is the one-year anniversary date.
After Mother’s Day, we began passing out bracelets to family and friends... As parents, we are setting the example for our children; in my old life, I was quite guilty of this habitual multi-tasking in my arrogant, ignorant bliss…
Our greatest hope is that through this effort toward awareness, someone will make the wiser choice and ignore their cell phone while driving. This trivial token in swirled pink and black is an instant message of a different sort… Perhaps it will save at least one life, so that our loss of Brian will not have been in vain, and another family will be spared the pain that is our constant companion. The fact of the matter is this…there is no telephone call or text message that is so important that it cannot wait…until you get where you are going or at least safely pull off the road to decide.
Please, don’t lose your life over the press of a button."
Oh the fragility of life. I am so aware of it now.
I love you bud...and miss you more than words can describe. My life is infinitely darker without you in it.
Mom
Hello bud,
I ran out of time last night before I could write to you. Natalie and Bryan came to visit. It was great to be with them. I love them both dearly. Ross told a couple funny stories about the two of you that made us laugh.
We had thunder storms and rain last night. Isn't that bizarre? On June 3! I don't every remember it rainiing in June since we've lived here.
We got a lovely thank you note from Nora in yesterday's mail. She was thanking us for the scholarship as well as her graduation present. I especially loved this line. It's so cute and so Nora-ish. She said "I have been looking forward to college since I knew what it was and plan to take advantage of every opportunity, just like Ryan would have."
I stayed up late visiting with Natalie and Bryan and thus slept later than usual so I'm running late and better skedaddle. I will catch up tonight.
Love & miss you so very much,
Mom
Dear Ry,
I didn't write to you last night. I felt too discouraged and exhausted and went by the "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" adage.
I had lunch with my "grief sisters" yesterday. That is always therapeutic for me. We speak the same language, so to speak. They are both much stronger in their faith than I, with no doubts of heaven. It helps me to be around them since my own faith is wobbly. If God is out there, he seems to have forgotten me. It also helps to share my sadness with them without feeling like I'm coming across as maudlin or melodramatic.
Kevin McClatchy stopped by my office yesterday. He asked how I am and I told him the truth - my life is hard. Work is hard and I'm still very sad in my personal life. He shared that when he was 21 his best friend died in a car accident. He was and remains close to Timmy's family. He said he had watched what Timmy's death had done to his parents so he understands how terrible it is to lose a child. I told him what a gift it must be to Timmy's family for Kevin to have stayed close to them all these years. (Kevin is in his mid 40's now.) He said it was years before he could talk to Timmy's mom on the phone without her crying. I explained to him the double edged effect of staying close to your son's best friends. On side one you are so grateful for the relationship and the small piece of your boy it brings back to you; on side two it is painful because it reminds you of what you have lost and will never have again. But at the end of the day, having the friends in your life is much better than losing contact with them all.
Looking forward to the day we're all together again.
love
Mom
Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit Ry - it's June already. Hard to believe this hard year is almost half over already.
Dad had a break down in the gym today. He was doing back exercises and started thinking of how much weight you could lift and what a great back you had and was soon sobbing so much he had to leave the gym.
My friend, Valerie, asked me today what the books say about when we should get to the point we can remember you joyfully without so much sadness. I fear that never will come. The books all say losing a child is different from any other loss and the grief never fully goes away. I'm sure my friends are tired of me being so sad all the time.
There was a Zitz cartoon the other day that reminded me so much of your high school days. In the first frame, a kid goes up to the dad and says "You're out of Pepsi. Want me to write it on the grocery list?" The dad says "Okay, sure" and then the dad goes up to Jeremy and says "Who is that?" Jeremy says "I'm not sure. I think he's in my Algebra class." It reminded me of all the kids who came and went in our Wycliffe house. Remember how you and I used to make fun of Dad for not remembering so many of their names? You or I would mention someone and dad would say "Who's that?" and we would roll our eyes and say "She was here last night. The girl with long blonde hair" or something to that effect. Poor Dad needed a program with a roster to keep up with the throng of kids who passed through on an almost daily basis. But they all loved him - more than me.
Our house is quiet now and our grocery bill is much less. We never look for the cordless phones or the remote controls. We never trip over video game controls left in the middle of the floor. No one ever leaves the house and forgets to close the garage door. I don't wash loads of beach towels anymore. I miss that life very much.
All my love
Mom
Hey bud,
I was putting away clean dishes out of the dishwasher a few minutes ago and it reminded me of unpacking the moving boxes and putting away our things in July, 2007 - just days before you died. In the same way the smell of chalk and magic markers can take you back to elementary school or a certain song takes you back to high school, putting the cups on the shelf just took me back to the final days of my life BRD - before Ryan died. I remember those days well. I took a couple days off from work to unpack and put together our new home. I wasn't especially looking forward to an empty nest but I did have the clean slate/new adventure anticipation I always get with a move to a new town and a new house. I loved our new house and I was looking forward to the future with hope and enthusiasm. And then the world shattered a few days later and like Humpty Dumpty, it can never be put back together again.
We're often asked, usually by Modestans whom we don't see very often, how we like living in Sacramento. We usually respond kindly and give some lame answer such as "It's fine. Our lives are still sad though." It feels like such a stupid question to me - kind of like asking someone in the throes of chemo how they like their new wig. But I used to ask those same kind of inane questions and avoid mentioning someone's "great sadness" back in my days of naivete. I think there are probably many people who think that after 22 months, we're "over it" and our lives are back to normal. Not even close. We're just trying to find a "new normal", as the books call it, that is bearable.
All the graduation parties are next weekend - some of your protoges - Stephen Macko and Connor Sparkman. We haven't decided if we're brave enough to attend. I still have that image of you, John, Tyler and Terence party hopping on the Saturday after graduation. You had that folded up piece of paper in your pocket with all the parties written on it, making sure you didn't miss one. We ran into you at a few that we were also invited to. I can distinctly remember watching you walk up the Macko's driveway with your posse in tow. You had on that red & blue striped collared Abercrombie shirt and you were having a great day! I was so proud to be your mom.
And I miss you so very much.
All my love,
Ma
Dear Ry,
I'm feeling especially close to you tonight because I just read all the text messages in your phone that you sent and received on the last day of your life. You were texting to Natalie and Stevie and someone else (Will, I think) around 3:30pm and we think you died between 4 & 4:30. So eerie. You certainly didn't sound sick or like anything was wrong in the texts. I had never read them before. Dad has been using your phone since it was returned to us with your belongings. He finally had to get a new phone so we were looking at everything of yours on your phone before it is gone. There were some sent to you after you died - one from Natalie saying "Ryan, what is going on?" That was likely after Tyler called and told her and she was still disbelieving. There were a couple more left in the wee hours of that night from friends telling you how much they were going to miss you and how they would never forget you.
My Yosemite hiking trip was only marginally successful. I froze in the tent cabin last night, sleeping in the little bed next to Jim & Coleen. I didn't take warm enough pj's. I slept fitfully and my muscles were clenched up trying to stay warm. We got an early start for our hike and found the trailhead fairly easily. It was about an hour away from Curry Village where we slept. The website had warned about having to "ford a small stream" at the beginning of the trail. Oh my! I had envisioned it being about the width of a double bed mattress and up to my ankles. It was MUCH wider and waist high and freezing cold. It was melted snow,afterall. I was tempted to be a chicken and find a different trail but I thought to myself...Ryan would do this and you would have. So Coleen and I took our hiking books and socks off, took our cameras and cell phones out of our pockets and trudged through the water. It was SO COLD. Our feet and legs were numb for quite a few minutes. It ended up being much too early in the season for the Cloud's Rest hike. We made it half way (about 3 1/2 miles) before deciding to turn back. There was too much snow and you couldn't find the trail in many places. A thunderstorm blew in as we were making our way down the mountain which confirmed we made the right decision. We had to cross many streams using rocks or fallen logs. And our legs caved through the snow several times, all the way to our hips. It was really a fairly dangerous day. I'm glad we didn't break a leg or get hurt. It was fun too though. So we hiked about 7 miles instead of 14 but still saw lots of pretty scenery.
I will sleep well in my own bed tonight.
Love and miss you much
mom
Hello sweet boy,
I wish you were here to give me a pep talk. Mrs. Sparkman has talked me into climbing to Cloud's Rest in Yosemite with her on Saturday. It's higher than Half Dome though we'll be starting at a higher point so it won't be as long nor as tough - hopefully. But I'm still nervous. I think it's about a 15 mile round trip to a 9000+ elevation. Yikes. Maybe I really have lost my mind.
I reconnected with an old friend with whom I grew up. I haven't seen him in more than 30 years. He had read my profile on Facebook so he knew about our loss. In his email to me, he said he knew what we are going through since he lost his Dad when he was in his 20's and then both of his brothers in the years since. It almost sent Dad through the roof. After reading the email, Dad, who has lost a brother, a mother and a son, sent me a terse one line response that said "He doesn't have a clue what we're going through." We are definitely grief snobs.
Sometimes someone else puts words to my feelings in a way I can't. My grief sister in North Carolina does it often. Earlier this week she said this: "What does one do to manage everlasting heartbreak? At this moment, I can barely stand breathing… Over the entire span of my life, I have never known this sort of pain… It is always with me, bubbling just below the surface of my carefully crafted façade… "
The words to Alan Jackson's Little Bitty song keep running through my head...."life goes on for a little bitty while." I know that to be true but if feels like so long before we'll see you again.
I love and miss you so much, bud
Mom
Dear Ry,
I'm listening to an audiobook written by a battered woman. It is a needed reminder that my life could be a lot crappier than it is. I sometimes get lulled into thinking everyone else has a perfect life - full of family and fun and joyful times and high achieving, happy kids. The reason I keep my "suffering journal" is to remind me that I'm not alone in my pain and that suffering is everywhere -even when we can't see it. Listening to this book reminds me to be grateful I've never been smacked around by a man nor abused by a parent. It reminds me of the blessings I enjoy of being financially secure and self sufficient - not beholden to anyone or anything; that I'm strong and capable and competent - even in my crushing grief I'm still a force to be reckoned with if necessary. And I've been corresponding with Louise Terra, the MoHi faculty mom who lost two kids and two grandkids in a car wreck on Monday. I think of our shock and grief over losing you - the unquenchable thirst, the metallic taste in our mouths, the feeling we might throw up at any moment, the lack of hunger for weeks, the "out of body" floating feeling, the fear of lying down to sleep, the awful first moments of waking each morning for months - and I multiply that by 4. I can't imagine the horror.
As I always told you and Ross as little boys - there will always be people with more than us and people with less than us so let's be grateful for what we have and who we are. I guess that same principle applies to grief and loss. We don't have to look very hard to find people with losses even bigger than ours, as preposterous as that seems, and there are those who seem to dance through life unscathed.
All my love,
Ma
Hello bud,
I just checked my Facebook account and there was a comment on the MoHi school song video of you that I posted a few days ago. It was from a boy I went to junior high and high school with back in the day. So he's actually a 51 year old man now, as I think about it. But anyway, he obviously doesn't know about our tragedy because he made a comment like "Where did you get a crazy young man like that? He must take after his dad's side of the family". I left him a message back and told him that crazy young man died 22 months ago. Now I know he will feel bad -and be embarrassed, feeling like he stuck his foot in his mouth. But really it's ok. Those things happen. When they do, it shocks me a bit.
Today's tragic news is of a terrible thing that happened to a staff member at Modesto High. Yesterday her 23 year old daughter, 20 year old son and 3 year old twin grandsons died in a car wreck. The daughter's roommate was driving drunk and crashed. The driver lived and one of the twins was still alive last I heard but had been declared brain dead. Sad, sad situation. I can only imagine the horror that poor family is experiencing. I can't really place the grandma/mom who works at MoHi though she was in my email address book so I obviously had corresponded with her at one point for some reason.
"But shall the angels call for him much sooner than we've planned. We'll brave the bitter grief that comes and try to understand." Edgar Guest
Braving the bitter grief but certainly not understanding.
All my love
Mom
Dear Ry,
The long weekend is almost over. I love three day weekends. I find myself getting depressed thinking about going back to work tomorrow.
We went to Modesto on Saturday for Mrs. Pugh's 50th birthday party. Brianna and Alyssa were there. I kept thinking how you should have been there - or at least making an appearance and partaking of the good food. As always you would have sashayed in late but with your crooked grin and I would have been so proud to have you there.
This time of year is extra hard - all the kids are either done with school and onto their summer plans or finishing up their quarters or semesters. It's so painful to know they are all coming home or at least passing through and you aren't. Dad and I talked today about how you likely wouldn't have been here much this summer. Maybe you would have gone to Ireland like Brendan or to Italy like Brianne and Julia or Africa like Alyssa. You would have had some grand adventure, I'm sure.
Today in the bookstore, Ross and I looked at a journal that had this quote on the front "Just as the caterpillar thinks he has come to the end, he becomes a beautiful butterfly." I hope that's how it works with the end of this life and the beginning of a better, more beautiful one.
Mrs. Cassidy loves the MoHi school song video I posted on YouTube. She has watched it repeatedly. She said this about it:
"In the two hours Nora and I have been home, I have unpacked, showered, and watched that video five times. I love every second of it, but I especially love when Ryan struts out to the front of the stage at the beginning and also the very end when Ryan elbows Brendan and Brendan just starts to react. I will treasure it always as a glimpse of who those beautiful boys were."
I feel the same way. Dad can't watch it and is amazed I can. I sent it to Mrs. Elliott too and she said "What a memory to have and what a wonderful group! But that was Ryan, the leader cheering on everyone! Thanks so much for sending it - it makes me teary too."
Debra and I talked today about what the Bible promises about heaven. Debra believes that for those of you there, time is very different and that you aren't missing us the way we're missing you. She and her mom have been talking about that subject as they deal with her mom's serious illness.
I find I'm thinking of Memorial Day differently since Daniel Hyde's death. I'm sure it's much more than barbeque and a day off from work for all those grieving parents and spouses and children of recent war casualties.
Love & miss you much,
Mom
Hey bud
Not sure why I'm such a blubbering mess this week but I am. I cried on my boss and on two of my colleagues. One of our publishers who doesn't even report to me called to say hello and I cried on her. I think it's this time of year - so many reminders of our last days together two years ago - awards night, IB dinner, graduation party, graduation.
Mrs. Cassidy sent a sweet email today. She said the awards ceremony reminded her of your & Brendan's year and how you planned the birthday party during the ceremony. By the time it was over, you had given assignments to a dozen people in terms of what they should bring to the party. Then she mentioned next week's IB dinner and recalled you and Brendan leading the schoool song. I then found the video of that out of tune, off key, loud rendition of MoHi's school song. It made me sob. I posted it on YouTube so I could send it to Mrs. Cassidy. First time I've ever done that. The video so aptly fits who you were.
I'm glad tomorrow is Friday. And we have a holiday weekend -yea. In our old life, we usually had a Memorial Day barbeque at our house. We're going to celebrate Mrs. Pugh's 50th birthday on Saturday.
Debra sent me this devotional today. It was a good day to get it since I was such an emotional mess. Steve Harper said:
"PRAYER CAN LEAD US to what may be our deepest life experience: the healing of the need to be healed. We do not have to have health restored in order to have hope. We do not have to cling desperately to life in this world when we see life in relationship to the world to come. This life is not all there is. More awaits us, and prayer makes it possible for us to catch a glimpse of eternal life. Prayer becomes a means of grace that enables us to loosen our hold on time so that we can put our hands on eternity."
I haven't felt like God has listened to nor answered many of my prayers in the last couple of years so this was good perspective.
All my love,
Mom
Dear Ry,
We're home from Modesto where we went to Scholarship night at MoHi and gave scholarships in your name to Nora Cassidy and Ariel Patton. We gave the Ryan Dickerson Award for Character & Leadership to Patrick Ip. All were very pleased. Quinton was on the stage too and waved at us.
I was on the verge of tears from the time we got out of the car and was sobbing by the time we left. Going to that school is just too hard. Parking in the cage - I looked around and could see the dirty old green Land Rover in the spot where you always parked. As we walked in front of the school, I could see you with your backpack slung over your shoulder as you got out of the car and crossed in front of me, flashing me the I Love You sign. And in the auditorium, we remembered you as emcee both sophomore and junior years and then as a recipient senior year. That's when you planned Brendan's Bodacious Birthday Barbeque Blowout Bash - sitting through the long and dull awards ceremony. So tonight was the 5th year in a row we have gone to that awards night. So many memories.
Patrick was especially thrilled to win the award. Along with the $1000 scholarship, we gave him a beautiful crystal trophy thing. Dad said "He will keep that forever. If he becomes President, and he might, that will be in the Oval Office with him." Dad presented it to him and quoted lyrics from What Would JayZ Do? It was very apropos and nicely done. And Dad didn't cry but I did. How about that?!
Gosh, we miss you so much.
All my love,
Mom
Dear Ry,
I have been especially blue today. Work is hard; life is hard and I miss you so much.
Bryan drove up to Sacramento today and I took him to lunch. Dad and Tyler joined us for the second half of lunch. It was fun to be with them. I love them both and while being with them makes me miss you more, it also makes me feel like you're closer.
Bryan gave me a Mother's Day card. The message he wrote inside it made me cry. Here's some of what he said...."....you're my hero, Lynn. You gave me the gift of Ryan - something that I will cherish forever and ever..."
He spent time with Mark last week while Mark was home a few days. I asked him if Mark ever talks about you and he said "No, but I don't either except to you. It makes me too sad."
Today I read an article about sudden loss by Therese Rando that said this: "In both sudden death and anticipated death, there is pain. However, while the grief is not greater in sudden death, the capacity to cope is diminished. Grievers are shocked and stunned by the sudden loss of their loved one. The loss is so disruptive that recovery almost always is complicated. This because the adaptive capacities are so severely assaulted and the ability to cope is so critically injured that functioning is seriously impaired. Grievers are overwhelmed.
If you are such a griever, you probably are suffering extreme feelings of bewilderment, anxiety, self-reproach, and depression, and you may be unable to continue normal life. You had no preparation and no time to gradually absorb the reality that the world was about to change dramatically.
Instead, there was a sudden destruction of the world you used to know. There was no gradual transition, nor time to make changes in yourself, your expectations about your life, or your world. In sudden death you are called upon to face a massive gap between the way the world should be, with your loved one alive, and the way the world is."
So true, so true.
Today was Kids' Day in Modesto. Another thing that reminded me of special times with you. I remember you in your red Kids Day shirt selling papers on the corner of Scenic & Oakdale with Dad, and even with Chris G once. I always worried that you would get run over darting into traffic or that you would get shot by a gang banger for having that red shirt on at school later in the morning. You always laughed at me for worrying about that.
Tomorrow night we go to MoHi to give the Ryan Dickerson scholarships and the Ryan Dickerson Award for Character and Leadership. It's emotionally draining but special too. You'll be pleased with the recipients.
all my love
ma
Hello there sweet boy,
Tonight at dinner, Dad and Ross told Tyler a story about the three of you being at the fancy University Club in Dallas when you were about 2 or 3. It was a funny story - sort of a gross story but a good memory nonetheless. Tyler laughed and said "I guess Ryan did gross things his whole life.'
Later Dad and I were out admiring our tomato plants (you know you're getting old when you start admiring your produce plants every evening) and we both looked up at the windows to your room. There's a great Delta breeze tonight so Tyler has the windows open and the light was on. The room looked inhabited. We didn't say anything but I could tell by Dad's face that we were thinking the same thing - wishing you were also in that room - home for the summer - insulting & arguing with Seymour. Oh how glorious that would be.
"To live in the hearts we leave behind is not to die." says Thomas Campbell.
You will always live in my heart.
Miss & love you so much,
Mom
Dear Ry,
I had a big cry today. I don't do that much anymore but find when I do, it's cathartic. Ross, Tyler and Dad were all out running errands. I was reading on the sofa in the family room and picked up the photo book I made for Dad the first Christmas without you. I looked at every picture carefully - taking in every detail of you. Features I knew so well. I can still remember how your feet felt when I would rub them. I sobbed for a few minutes, feeling the loss so deeply. I miss you more than words can describe.
A few minutes ago I was tidying up in preparation for the cleaning people tomorrow. I was going through a pile of Ross' papers on the desk and found one of his spiral notebooks opened to a page written in your distinctive, messy, almost illegible handwriting. It was written on 5/3/04. Five years ago - spring of your freshman year. It's titled Daydream and was written for Ross. Ross had just left for his internship in San Francisco at Hoefer-Arnett. I asked Ross for permission to write it here and he gave it. Here's what you said, the best I can decipher.
"On a quest for pencils/I found myself pouring through your former bedstand./I suppose that since you're gone and all/Do I inherit its contents?/The cheap beer cans/3 Bud Light, 1 Hamms/Quielle toi n'est pas de schlitz,/Tugest pas de bier. (that's not translated correctly.) Then I found your old wallets in the bottom drawer/with a $15 check from '93/I never knew you loved Nanny that much/then I thought of what I keep in my wallet/Leftover lunch money/Gift cards and certificates/Unfinished lyric sheets/slightly less failing attempts at becoming half the writer you are/and the $10 bill you brought me from Hong Kong. /It is only now striking me /Your influence on my everyday being/And my aspirations, emulations, and admiration of you. / My longing to grow up and leave this town and be somebody./ Or at least something/ I think it's only fitting that I write this in your notebook./If you were to suddenly come up the stairs/ you would tell me to stop obsessing/You're only 70 miles away/ And to go find some pencils so I can finish my homework./Learn from your mistakes/So I don't end up stuck in Modesto./ Dont rush/ You'll grow up soon enough./ Enjoy high school./ And don't fight with mom./ Cause don't worry, Ry, you're gonna be somebody."
What a gift for Ross to have found this. I wish I would find something similar that you wrote to/about me. I'm so glad I found it and it was in your Ryan-original handwriting. I read it aloud to Dad and he wept.
Ross told me last night that he's been dreaming about you a lot. I asked if he knew you were dead in the dreams. He said not necessarily though he's always rushing around trying to prevent you from dying. That same thing happens to me when I dream about you.
You were somebody, Ry, even though your special life was cut short. I have no doubt you would have soared at college and in life. Dad and I feel so cheated to have missed out on your college experience and your wedding and your children. Life doesn't always turn out the way we expect.
Love and miss you so much,
Mom
Mrs. Lynn Dickerson, I am so proud of you. You are such a strong woman, and was and still is so devoted to her son. I wish all mothers were like you.
Dear Ryan,
The One & Only, whose life got cut too short, yet taught those who loved him the meaning of life. I will never forget you.
Dear Ry,
We are home from our week in Colorado. It was a nice week - good weather - beautiful scenery - hiking, biking, river rafting, walking, reading, jigsaw puzzles, movies, massages, pedicures, rest. But we're glad to be home. Scrumpy was very glad to see us.
I was remembering a time we went to Colorado on a family vacation when you were about 4 and Ross was about 8. As we were flying into Gunnison, you threw up all over yourself and Dad with no warning. As I was cleaning you up, I told you that you just had motion sickness and everything would be okay. (It turned out that you had a bug and you threw up for the next 12 hours or so and I threw up the following 24 hours, after you so generously shared the virus with me.) But for the rest of the trip you kept referring to it as having "lotion sickness". So for years, when anyone in our family had the throw-up disease, we would say they had "lotion sickness".
At the Denver airport today, Steve asked Dad if he still wants to die. Dad said yes but he knows Ross needs him and that it would be a very selfish act. Then we both said how very much we miss you and how our days will never be as bright as they once were. Debra commented on the sadness she feels from never having been a mother, something she wanted very badly, but acknowledged she will also never feel the agony we have felt for the last 21 1/2 months. Life is full of trade offs.
I survived another Mother's Day. Being away made it somewhat easier. Ross called and I also got calls or emails or cards from many of my surrogate kids whom I love so much - Tyler, Bryan, Nora, Mal, Fallon, Seth Simas, Hanna, Annie, Chris Ho... It helps to feel loved by all of them.
The calendar saying I came home to reminded me of the people who mistakenly tried to 'cheer us up" after your death - in the days when that was impossible. It's from Proverbs.
"Being happy-go-lucky around a person whose heart is heavy is as bad as stealing his jacket in cold weather or rubbing salt in his wounds."
There are times when what you need most is for your friends to just be sad with you.
Loving & missing you much,
Mom
Hello there sweet boy,
Here we are - Mother's Day weekend again. Last year was awful. This year we're leaving town in an effort to run from it. Before losing you, I never thought of how painful special days such as Mother's Day and Father's Day and other holidays are for some people. It's a reminder of what they could never have for women who wanted to be mothers but couldn't conceive or never found a life mate or miscarried multiple times. It's a reminder of what has been lost to people whose mother's have died, especially recently, and to mother's like me who have lost a child. And those poor mothers whose only child has died...ugh...I cringe just thinking about them. And there are many of them, I have discovered through my journey of grief. My sense of compassion has been heightened in the last 21 months.
Obviously I'm grateful to have Ross but I was thinking today how grateful I am to have all these other kids in my life. Friends of yours and Ross' who mean a lot to me and allow me to mother them occasionally. It isn't the same but it does help to fill the big gaping hole in my heart.
This is Jasper Lion's Club World Championship rodeo week. All three of the Shaw kids qualified to "ride with the pros". Bret won the barrels in his age group so he got a buckle. He called and left a cute message telling us about it. And then last night Jasi won the break away roping event and got a buckle. She competed against Lane. He would have beat her had he not broken the barrier. They both had great times and I'm sure it was fun to perform in front of the hometown crowd. You would be proud of the cowboy cousins.
Dad subbed at Rio Americana today. A few minutes ago, he told me he almost cried a couple times during the day. I asked what set him off and he choked up telling me he saw a slender, handsome boy walking across campus wearing cargo shorts. It's funny the things that remind us of you and cause the tears to flow. Young men's calves do it to me. Especially if they are tanned and just the right amount of hairy.
Trying not to think you would probably be coming home for summer this week. You would be finishing up your sophomore year. Hard to believe. Ross and I were talking about time the other day. I said "just think - it has been almost 2 years since Ryan died and we have been miserably sad the whole time, yet it has gone really fast." I don't think it seems as fast to him because he's young. Time marches faster the older you get. I'm grateful for that now.
We're leaving for Vail in the morning for a week. I hope it's warm enough to hike. It's sort of a dumb time to go to Colorado.
I love and miss you so much.
Mom
Dear Ry,
Today is Scrumpy's 3rd birthday, we think. It makes me sad you don't know Scrumpy. You would like him a lot. He has many similar traits as you - he's friendly to everyone, loves a crowd, skips & bounds with exuberance, adores Dad and is even a messy eater.
Today I walked 19 blocks to a Farmer's Market. It was longer than I realized it was going to be, especially on the 19 blocks back with my heavy bag full of fruit & kettle korn - in heels. That was a bit much, even for me - the walker.
I got a sweet email from Robin Fenlaw today. She said this about you:
"Even though Ryan left WF so many years ago, and boys aren't the greatest at keeping in touch, Frank always had such a special place in his heart/life for Ryan. I think he looked up to him a lot, and was aware and probably amazed at all he was accomplishing, yet Ryan had a way (a special gift) of being right there at whatever level he needed to be in---to relate to other people...he just had a heart for all sorts of friends."
And that is true. One of your greatest traits was being nice to everyone. Today Dad subbed for a special ed class at Rio. While we were walking tonight, he choked up trying to tell me that during the day he kept thinking of how nice you would have been to those kids.
That's why so many people loved you so much. And we all miss you so much.
All my love,
Mom
Hello buddy,
I had the strangest dream last night. It feels sort of woo-woo-ish just describing it. It was like a message from God or an angel or something. Very clearly, the message was that this life is short and is preparation for the next life which is permanent and free from conflict, suffering, and pain. We are here to prepare for that next life - to learn something or accomplish something before we go to the next one. Sounds strange, I know but I found it comforting.
Yesterday Dad told me had "a great dream". I said "Was Ry in it?" He said "No. I was killed in a car accident. I was hit by a big semi truck and I could see my body lying on the ground, face down and I knew I was dead." Obviously he awoke anyway. So your ol' ma and pop are having really strange dreams in their continuing grief filled psyches.
I have been reading a grief blog by a young writer named Megan O'Rourke. Her 55 year old mom died on Christmas day from colon cancer. She posted this poem by Franz Wright.
I basked in you;
I loved you, helplessly, with a boundless tongue-tied love.
And death doesn't prevent me from loving you.
Besides,
in my opinion you aren't dead.
(I know dead people, and you are not dead.)
I relate to that poem. I love you very much, bud.
Mallory sent an email today telling me about the JayZ concert and how much she wished she could have shared it with you. Here's what she said.
"I went to a concert held in my school's football stadium. It was The Veronicas, Third Eye Blind, Kelly Clarkson, and Jay-Z. As social chair I used part of my budget to surprise my sorority by buying block seating at the concert. The seats ended being PERFECT. We sat in rows 8-12, right off center stage. The whole time I was just thinking about Ryan and how I wish he could be there or at least be here for me to tell him all about it. When we were waiting for Jay-Z to come on stage, I was so anxious. I couldn't help but imagine Ryan in the same situation. I assumed he'd be grinning ear to ear and chanting his name louder than everyone in the crowd. I did my best to channel Ryan, and did exactly that- I had NO voice after the concert because I was yelling Jay-Z's name so loudly! He put on quite a performance and at the end he started talking to the crowd and calling people out. Because my sorority was the largest group there and we had matching shirts he called us out! I couldn't believe it. He said, "yo, I see these purple shirts everywhere. Is this some type of school project? Are you ladies in a gang?" I just couldn't believe it; Jay-Z referred to my sorority as a gang! I wanted to call Ryan immediately to tell him. Even though I couldn't call him, I was still happy that I was able to include Ryan in my thoughts throughout the whole experience."
The world just isn't right without you here.
Love
Mom
all my love,
Mom
Dear Ry,
We got up at 3:45 this morning to see the Carleton gang off. After some bagels & biscuits, they were all packed up and on their way. Dad and I both cried telling Brendan goodbye. For whatever reason, Brendan and Lance make us cry the most. Brendan is headed for Ireland in a month so we won't see him until late summer. It was a memorable weekend for us. I'm so glad we could be their California host family!
Phelps' mom sent 10 pictures of you that she took your sophomore year. They are all action shots in the pool. Most of them are close ups. Dad and I sobbed as we looked at them. Seeing photos we've never seen before is such a gift. You look intense in all of them. In one, you're spitting a big stream of water out of your mouth. It's a cool photo. You would like it.
My friend, George McCanless, sent a sweet story about a family putting their dog to sleep. They decided to let their little boy be a part of the process even though he was only 6. Afterward they marveled at how well he handled the sad task of saying goodbye to his beloved pet. What he said made me think that maybe that's the way it was with you too. Here's that part of the story.
"We sat together for a while after Belker's death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives.
Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, ''I know why.''
Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation. It has changed the way I try and live.
He said,''People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life -- like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?''
The six-year-old continued,''Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long.''
Tyler is on his way from the airport with Ross. I realized it was 3 years ago today Tyler moved in with us the first time and 3 years ago today Ross had his serious accident.
I miss you more than usual this week. I would give anything to see you tonight.
all my love
Mom
Dear Ry,
It has been a busy weekend hosting Brendan and the water polo girls. Dad and I have been cooking up a storm. They are all in San Francisco today and are leaving in the morning at 4:15am so we're done with our cooking. It has been a lot of fun having them. They are all really nice kids.
Joanne forwarded me the essay Megan wrote as part of her application process for the Stanislaus County Leadership Academy. The assignment was to write about something that has made a big impact on your life or something to that effect. Meg chose you. Here's what she said.
"Life can change instantaneously. During the summer of 2007, I was greatly impacted by the death of eighteen year old Ryan Hunter Dickerson. He was a close friend. Ryan died a very tragic death and it was a major reality check to many.
I was in second grade when the Dickerson family moved to Modesto from Texas, and our families became fast friends. My older brother, Derrick, and Ryan were good friends, therefore I became closely acquainted with Ryan. Because of this, I spent countless summer nights at the Dickerson’s home jumping on the trampoline, swimming, and playing hide and seek
Ryan was the type of boy everyone loved. Girls thought he was cute, boys thought he was ‘the man,’ and parents thought he was the total package. He was very involved in school, extra curricular activities, and had a close relationship with his family. Ryan had everything going for him, except for time.
Ryan died while working at a summer camp in Texas. The cause of his death was listed as natural causes, but that is probably the farthest thing from the truth. It is not natural for a healthy, strong, and talented boy to die at eighteen years. It isn’t natural to see young men guiding their pal’s coffin in to church. It isn’t natural to see a mother and father mourn the loss of a precious child. It’s not what we presume in life, but it does happens.
Through Ryan’s death, I have learned that life is unforeseen. Everyday, you have only what you are given and should make the most of that day. You really don’t know what will happen next. You need to concentrate on the here and now because the future is just a mystery.
Ryan was the total package. Even through this tragedy, Ryan left a profound impact on everyone who knew him in any way. Even though Ryan didn’t have to chance to live as long as we would have all anticipated, he lived his life to the fullest."
Lovely job by sweet Megan, huh?
Dad and I both miss you so much, bud.
All my love,
Mom
Hello there sweetheart,
It's raining like it's monsoon season in Northern California. Those poor midwestern girls showed up with their bikini tops and sunscreen and found cold rain instead of warm sunshine. It rarely rains like this. We're in a drought and need the rain, I just wish it had come next weekend or last weekend.
The girls are all really sweet and polite and VERY APPRECIATIVE. Chris G just im'd me to ask if they are "hot". You would have asked me the same thing.
Dad and I did better than I expected being at the pool and sitting in the stands, etc. When we got there, we immediately ran into the McBrooms. Melanie's team from Chico had just gotten beat by CalPoly. It was like old times talking polo in the parking lot. Then when we walked into the aquatics center, Annie B called out to us and gave us a hug. The Carleton girls played UC Davis in their first game and Davis kicked their butts, as they predicted. It reminded me of the old days when MoHi used to play Rio Americana or Jesuit. It was fun to watch Brendan coach though. He's not quite as excitable as Chiavetta ~ :) We took all the girls to In-n-Out afterward. Lauren Young and her boyfriend came to the game and then went to In-Out with us. I liked her boyfriend. Nice guy from Visalia. He's a polo player too.
I bring you up in conversation with these girls all the time. They never pick up the conversation threads. They are all still too young and too uncomfortable to know what to say. I used to be the same way. I'm sure when they are alone they comment on how Mrs. D talks about her dead son a lot. One of the things I'm going to put in my book someday - TALK about the person who died. It's not only okay, it's important!
I have made spaghetti & meatballs and am waiting for the gang to return from their last game of the day. Wish you were here, dear boy.
Love you so much,
Mom
Bed linens...funny the things that evoke memories and nostalgia and sadness. Dad, Ross and I have been making beds for our 13 house guests arriving later tonight. Much of the bedding was once yours. There are the green striped sheets from your first big boy bed in Highland Village, the denim Ralph Lauren sheets from Wichita Falls and the early years in Modesto, the comforters from the Possum Kingdom condo and the plaid comforter from your jr high days. Dad looked everywhere for your sleeping bag and couldn't find it. Then I remembered you had taken it to camp so it's in the trunk with all the things that came home from camp when you didn't. Neither of us had the courage or strength to open the trunk so we improvised and decided we could make do without your sleeping bag.
I made my pound cake and the filling for homemade cinnamon rolls that I will make in the morning. I have only made those cinnamon rolls once since you died and that was when Brianne and Chris spent the night last winter after the Alan Jackson concert. So many things I cook scream RYAN to me. I consider it a huge step forward that I can make these cinnamon rolls. You always ate a whole pan of them yourself and then wondered if maybe you were gaining weight - as you looked at your profile in the oven door's reflection.
We chose the recipients of your scholarship today. Mrs Rhoads, Mrs Elliott, Mrs. Johnson, Mrs. Monjure and Mr Beck helped. We're giving three. You would be very pleased, I think. It was tough competition. This class of '09 is very strong. We also chose the winner of the Ryan Dickerson Character Award. Dad and I will go to Modesto on May 20 to make the presentations. UIt will be one of those emotionally draining nights.
Our empty nest is filling up again. Ross is with us for a while and Tyler returns next Monday. I like the tidiness and order of the empty nest but I like the energy and life of the full nest. I'm not sure I'm cut out for the empty nest - not yet anyway. Just wish you were flying home to the nest next month.
We'll be thinking of you over the next three days as we watch Brendan's team play polo. They play UC Davis tomorrow. I think Annie Benisch is on that team. I will be pulling for both sides.
Wish you were here, bud.
Love you so much,
Mom
Good morning Ry,
21 months ago today you left us. Still surreal sometimes. The other day I was making our bed and stopped to look at the picture of you & Dad on his night stand. It was taken when you were about 18 months old - Dad is holding you in Gran & Bamps' back yard. You are so cute and Dad is so young! I found myself thinking about showing that photo to your children some day and then WHAM! The reality that there will never be any Ryan's children hit me.
Last night I was emailing with a fellow bereaved mom and she said something I totally agree with. She said " Honestly, don't you believe they are better off. This crazy world sucks." I do find myself thinking that often. Right now the whole world seems to be in a tizzy about the swine flu. Not me. Selfishly I don't want Ross or Dad to get it but you won't find me wearing a mask anytime soon.
Krista Mensonides posted this on Facebook last night.
" Miss you still, Ry. I've been thinking about your mama lots lately...I can't imagine what your family must still be going through without you. Keep them company, ok? love you, buddy."
Yesterday our renowned NASCAR writer at the Charlotte Observer died suddenly. He had turned 50 last month. And I learned last night of the death of the husband of a woman I knew through Rotary in Modesto. He died of a brain tumor. He would have turned 46 today. He left a wife and two young sons and parents. So my suffering journal grows.
I love you with all my heart and always will.
Mom
Hey there buddy,
We're getting ready to host Brendan and his girl's water polo team this weekend. They are flying in Thursday night and staying until Monday morning. There will be 13 of them - 11 girls and 2 boys, including "Eugene". Dad and I are both honored he asked us for the whole team to stay here. It will be crazy but fun. We're looking forward to it. Ross is going to help drive them back & forth to Davis. I did an inventory of bedding last night - making sure I have enough blankets and bedding for 13 house guests. After the move, in my grief stricken mood, I purged many things as I unpacked. I gave away truck loads of stuff, realizing my old life was gone forever. Some of what I donated to charity were old comforters and blankets and pillows that you and your buddies had slept on - on the floor and on the deck during your jr high and high school years. So many weekend and summer mornings I would awake to find wall to wall boys. I miss those days.
It will be fun to be water polo parents one more weekend of our lives. I am busy planning what I'm going to feed them. I know you would love this. I hope somehow you know and can watch all the chaos and activity.
As I turned my calendar over this morning, I realized it was two years ago today that we had the prom dinner at our house. 29 of you in our rose garden patio. Such a fun, fun night. I will treasure those memories forever.
Last night I emailed back & forth with Dan Hyde's mom. Dan died in Iraq last month. He was 3 days older than Ross. We compared notes on coping with the loss of our boys. She is doing much better than I was at that time in my grief journey. As she pointed out, she knew her son was in a war zone and in harm's way, thus subconsciously preparing her in some way - I thought my son was in the safest 3 weeks of his summer. I appreciate her friendship and benefit from talking to others sharing a similar pain to mine.
Dad is off to teach at an alternative high school this morning. I hope he'll be safe. Ross has a job interview and a follow up appointment at the periodontist. And I'm off to fight the newspaper wars again.
Love & miss you so much
Mom
Dear Ry,
Well the weekend is just about over and that makes me sad. The weather was beautiful in NorCal this weekend. After an exhausting, stressful week, I was able to recharge my battery a bit.
On Saturday, Dad and I went to the Farmer's Market and then to the hardware store. The hardware store was bustling with activity. Being there brings back memories of those first few weeks after you died. Dad and I didn't go many places - the post office, occasionally Raley's, and the hardware store. While I was walking up and down the aisles yesterday I remembered that awful vacant, zombie like disorientation I felt for months. I looked awful and felt worse. It seems wrong somehow that we humans can't recognize grief stricken people by some outward sign like we can recognize bodily injuries. Those were really terrible days. Even remembering them is painful but it is a good reminder that even though I still hurt deeply, I have healed some.
Last night we went to a play called Having Our Say about the Delany sisters - Sadie and Bessie. Remember when I read their books when you were a little boy? I remember telling you and Ross about them. Aunt Les and I liked them a lot. The sisters lived together, never married, until well past 100 years of age. There was a line in the play last night where they were describing their nephew's death. Sadie said "Little Hubie's death shook our world. I think we were a little over confident before that. We were Delany's. We thought if we tried hard enough and worked hard enough, we could do anything and protect ourselves. When Little Hubie died, we learned we were just like everybody else when it comes to tragedy & loss." I understood what she meant. I think subconsciously I thought that same thing.
Today Ross was scurrying around, getting dressed for a job interview. He needed a black belt instead of the brown one he was wearing. I got yours out of your shoe box for him but it was too small. I held it up to my face and smelled the leather, remembering how many times it was around your waist in your suit pants. You were so handsome in that suit. Going into your closet is still hard for me. All those shirts and pants hanging there. I cry every time.
I read this line in a novel I'm reading. It was said about a young woman whose mom died when the girl was only 13. "It could be difficult to appreciate what you had - a father, a supportive group, friends - when what you'd lost was so huge." Amen to that. Sometimes I feel guilty that I continue to feel so sad and empty and robbed when by most standards I still have much. But when the loss is so big, it dwarfs everything that is left. Yet I know my life could be much worse and I try to focus on being grateful for what I have left - Dad, Ross, great & many friends, family, creature comforts, good health & an able body & mind - to name a few. But you left a gaping hole that can't be filled when you left us.
all my love
Ma
Dear Ry,
Laura Bryan, one of the Arkansas girls you met in France, has been posting photos of you from that trip on her Facebook. Dad and I love seeing these "never before seen photos" yet they make us cry too. You are so young and cute and full of life. We miss you so much.
Dad has been in an especially deep funk the last few days. Tonight we went to Crate and Barrel to buy citronella candles and wine glasses. We wandered the store separately and when I found Dad he was in the glassware section. He looked at me with that sad look he often sports and said "I feel like throwing all these glasses against the wall and watching them shatter. I think it might make me feel better." I told him his relief would be short lived before they hauled him away to either jail or the mental hospital.
Earlier today I was online helping Tyler with something when I came across a story about a 19 year old Grinnell student who left a suicide note in the fall of 2006 but wasn't found until the following April when the pool cover at the local country club was removed. His poor parents had to wander what happened to him for 6 months. It reminded me of what I often say to myself - our tragedy was as good as they get. No shame, no suffering, no disappearance, no one else injured or killed, no violence. And yet it hurts so badly and for such a long, long time. I have enormous compassion for parents who have to go through what we are enduring with one of the other elements added on top. The father of the Grinnellian wrote a lovely eulogy for his son. The ending was especially poignant. Here's what Paul Shuman Moore's dad said at his son's funeral:
"I once had the thought that when it’s the turn of angels to choose which music to play in heaven, they pick Mozart. His music - the melodies, the way a piece would progress -was precise, intricate, and inspired - everything just perfect. But when the souls of
humans get to choose music in heaven, they pick Beethoven. His works are full of passion and energy - things that you can only understand if you’ve lived on earth and experienced the joys and sorrows of life – something the angels will never comprehend.
Today, I think of the final movement of Beethoven’s 9th Symphony - what we call the Ode to Joy. It starts out with the cellos playing the melody slowly, mournfully. Then the melody is played again faster, with a few more instruments. Then the melody is played a
third time with the entire orchestra – a crashing, joyous, triumphant song. Those three repetitions remind me of life. We start out alone. We walk this earth with others. We die and join that final joyous chorus of souls.
We’ll never know if Paul felt stuck in that first section; or thought he had enough experience with the second; or was just anxious to join the third. But we know that right now, he is boldly – joyously – passionately – triumphantly - creating music."
You weren't very musically talented in this life, taking after my tone deaf side of the family, but I suspect you too are boldly, joyously, passionately, triumphantly creating music in Heaven while those of us who love you are muddling our way through the painful days longing to see you again.
Love and miss you so
M'Ma
Good morning sweet boy,
The mini heat wave is over and the Delta breezes have returned. Debra and her sister-in-law, Maria, are staying with us because her mom is back in UC Davis Med Ctr for more surgery. Last night I was in your room, making sure it was ready for Maria. As I was opening the windows to let the cool breeze in, I was admiring the view - so pretty with flowers and trees everywhere. Then I thought of how you should be coming home in a few weeks and how if you were, you would lie in your bed, all sprawled out, taking up the whole thing, and look at that same pretty scene I was looking at. But you are not coming home in mid-May.
Dad and I both have been dog tired lately. It's all we can do to drag our fannies around our 4 mile walk every evening. Not sure if something is wrong with us or we're just old and tired. I find that my survival strategy is to stay busy and productive and most of the time that works but occasionally a wave of futility washes over me and I think to myself 'No matter what I do; no matter how many others I reach out to; no matter how many books I read or speeches I give or letters I write, he's still gone - our lives are still changed forever and nothing I can do will fix it. And it makes me tired. I understand how some get bitter and reclusive after a profound loss. I fight against it but it would be easier.
I'll close with this email I got yesterday afternoon from David Zeeck,our publisher in Tacoma. So sweet.
"Occasionally when I stop at one of my favorite drive through barista stands to get a latte, I give them enough money to buy a free latte for the next person who pulls up. I tell them to tell the beneficiary that the coffee was purchased for them by a young man named Ryan Dickerson. I tell them a bit about Ryan and how he would have done something like that.
I started doing that on his birthday. Just thought you’d like to know."
Off to a tough day at work - the Wall Street analysts at 9 and then an all day budget review session after that. ugh.
All my love,
Mom
Dear Ry,
I awoke this morning to find this little jewel of an email from Chris G. I cried but it made my day at the same time.
"It is currently 3:30am and I am sitting at my desk writing a paper on Conventional Farming VS. Free Range/Organic. I think you already know my position on that. Garth Brooks- Cowboy's Like Us just came on, and I remembered that is the last song Ryan and I ever sang together. He was driving Mr. D's Tahoe, because the Land Rover was broken down yet again(Who would have thought). I was sitting in the backseat because we picked up Natalie. I think that was one of the first times I met her, but none the less I was not happy sitting in the backseat. I really can't remember much after that but I think it doesn't really matter. Owen and I were talking about Ryan last night, and I was very fortunate my best friend moves to San Diego and my new one moves in from Texas. he told me If he had to be replaced he was happy it was Ryan. Over spring break I insisted that Kevin and I find all the old footage and watch it. We watched four VHS tapes of the old days. Ryan was in some of it, if you remember, you wouldn't usually let him film with us. My favorite scene of all those videos was on Kevin's lawn.
Kevin, Jeremy, Ryan, and I were lying on the grass. I convinced Ryan to eat some leaves for the betterment of the film. He did, and there were leaves all over his braces. He laughed harder than all of us did.
He was wearing some outrageous thrift store hat and that grey shirt with the purple three on front. I wouldn't sell that last time I saw him for all the Assyrian crown jewels. Some people ask me what my last words to him were, They were " I hate you and I don't even miss you."
Then they feel bad for me, and I tell them those would probably be his last words to me. Its just the way we were.
1Love,
Mr. G"
I forwarded it to Peggy and to Natalie because I knew they would appreciate it also. Natalie sent this one back to me.
"Thanks Mrs. D.
I remember one night we went to Kevin Luty's house because Ryan reallly wanted me to see the film that Kevin, Dan and Jeremy had been working on. I don't think they were finished with it but Ryan was really excited about it.
The day after Ryan died and everyone went to your house, Chris just gave me the biggest hug and said "I hated sharing him with you". I don't know why I remember that because I can't seem to remember much else from that day, but the line definitely stuck. For some strange reason it was comforting, I guess.
Love you,
Natalie"
We all still miss you so much, bud. I can see you with leaves in your braces (probably 7th or 8th grade) just laughing that loud, goofy, Ryan laugh.
We (our Miami Herald) won a Pulitzer yesterday. Big deal, of course. I so wanted to call and tell you. I remember the time you and I debated on the correct pronunciation of Pulitzer. I was right for once. You looked it up on Wikipedia and it said "pull it sir" - just like I pronouced it. I was so proud to win one with you!
Dad and I have cried twice tonight - some nights are still like that. Sweet things that came in today's mail did it today.
We miss you so very, very much.
All my love,
Mom
Hey bud,
Just yesterday I was worrying because my memories of you are becoming soft around the edges and sepia toned. Then I got this email from a friend you made at SSP in the summer of '06. I could see you and hear you perfectly when I read this.
"mrs. d,
I'll share with you my biggest SSP memory with ryan.
it was wed night and we were all supposed to be getting ready for bed but instead all the girls from my church and brianna from yours were reading 17 (magazine) over by our stuff. i remember ryan coming over and being like "ohhh 17 i want in". and then he started reading to us out loud from the magazine and the way he read the article had us all laughing like crazy. and then i remember he found a quiz and he made us each take the quiz outloud with his little side comments, even funnier. and then he just started talking about going through changes and all that jazz and it was super funny and then for the rest of the week we all had lots of inside jokes to share with each other. good times, my friend and i (the only 2 left at church from that group) still use those inside jokes, they have become bitter sweet now but for us we can never forget them or ryan.
i cannot even begin to fathom your pain nor how much you miss him. just seeing that you have found some way to get up every morning is an inspiration to me.
Heather"
I miss you so much. You were so much fun.
Looks like Dad and I might get to be water polo parents one more time. Brendan wrote today and asked if his team can stay at our house in two weeks when they come for Nationals at UC Davis. There are about 15 of them. It made me laugh. Of course, we said yes. We will love it.
Yesterday when I was worried about forgetting things about you, I asked Ross if the same thing was happening to him. He said emphatically.."Nope. I think about him ALL THE TIME. He is all I think about." That is probably true but he is doing so much better than he was for a long time.
Love and miss you so very much,
Mom
"Do you think I'll ever be able to drive down Scenic without crying?" That's what Dad said to me yesterday after we had driven down Scenic and he had in fact cried when we passed the cemetery. We were on the Garden Tour with Tom & Susan. Yesterday was a break- through day for us - we went onto Wycliffe. Three of the houses, including our old house, were on the tour this year. We DID NOT go to our old house. That would have been impossibly hard. But we did go to the other two. One of them was the Clines so being next door to the Vander Walls was pretty tough. I teared up a bit during that time. Dad is really ticked off at the Garden club for the description of our old house in the program. They referred to how the Reeds had brought life back to an old garden. Dad is prepared to sent them hate mail over that comment. He loved that yard and worked so hard in it. He's the one who brought life back to a tired, old, shabby garden. They should have seen it in 2000!
Mrs. Cassidy just emailed me that the girls water polo team that Brendan coaches at Carleton won the Heartland Championship and they are going to Nationals at UC Davis in a couple weeks. She asked if we would put some of the team up at our house and of course, we said yes. You would be proud of Eugene and his winning team.
I find after almost 21 months my grief is changing - lightening a bit - but I also find you are becoming more of a distant memory and I hate that. It's the trade off for the relief from the unrelenting pain though. We have these Spanish lavender plants in our yard and they are magnificent right now. I swear I don't remember them blooming last year. There are so many things that I just don't remember at all from the first year of this new life. I guess it's the brain's way of protecting us from too much pain. Kind of like how we forget how bad it hurts to have a baby. I definitely have a bit of bereavement amnesia.
Ross and I are off to Raleys to buy something for dinner. We have all three been working in the yard all day and it's really warm today. So we're all sweaty and dirty and gross.
Love and miss you so much,
Mom
Hello sweet boy (I find I now call Scrumpy "sweet boy" and other pet names I used to call you.),
Nine years ago today, our family flew to Modesto to announce we were coming to town and I was going to be the new publisher of the Bee. It was cold and rainy but an exciting, exhausting day. You were 11 and Ross was 15. You, Dad and Ross explored Modesto while I made speeches and met employees. That's the day the inside family joke began about the orchards - "look how straight those trees are. Ya reckon they plant 'em like that?" You and Ross (you, especially) didn't want to move to California form Texas. Ross was much more agreeable about it than you. You cried and dug your heels in when told we were moving. But soon it was your town in so many ways. Now it's hard for us to be in Modesto because it is still "your town" in so many ways.
I got this email from Leah Macko this morning. Made me smile -thinking of the juxtaposition of Ryan Adams and Kanye West. That was you -yin & yang, sweet & sour, tender & crass all at the same time. Here's what Leah said:
"I just wanted to write to you and let you know that I am especially missing Ryan right now. He is never far from my mind and I still frequently have moments where I really cannot believe that he is gone. Tonight I was at the library working on a paper and was listening to my itunes on shuffle in the background. Ryan Adams’ “Friends” came on and I started to tear up since it’s about appreciating your friends knowing that it could all end soon. I’ve always believed that my itunes knows what I’m feeling and plays songs accordingly, and after the song ended Kanye’s “Diamonds From Sierra Leone” came on which was a song Ryan put on a cd for me a few years ago. I had to laugh at the fact that a serious Ryan Adams song and a Kanye song both immediately make me think of Ryan. We all still miss him so much and I know everyone has little "Ryan moments" like these daily to constantly keep him close."
I love and miss you so,
Mom
Dear Ry,
Yesterday and today have brought tidings of death from all around. Brianne emailed last night that her roommate lost a friend from high school last week in a car wreck. Today I got news that A-Man's dad died last night. He had recently been diagnosed with ALS but they expected him to live 3-5 more years. I called and talked to Angelo and he was very sad. Frances wrote to say Joe Cooper died last night. Remember Joe? He was the sweet, gentle maintenance man from the Times Record News. I never knew a sweeter, more lovely person. And then late this afternoon, I got word that Josh Kelly, the young adult son of our VP of Operations in Columbus, died today after a few years of a brutal disease caused by a genetic disorder. I hope you greeted all of them at Heaven's gates.
I cried three times today. Once when I read an email from Terence where he said "Ryan remains in my thoughts." Later I had an IM conversation with Rachel Griffith. She said Kyle is helping coach swimming at MoHi and "Ryan memories are all around". She said they both think of you daily. Then on the way home I listened to my Alan Jackson Precious Memories c.d. and cried as I sang along to the "when we all get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be". I don't fantasize about killing myself so much anymore but I do still look forward to being with you again in Heaven. Dad nor I have any fear of death anymore.
All my love
Mom
Dear Ryanizer,
I have learned so much about the difficulty of life since losing you. I am now so keenly aware of how much heartache and suffering there is all around. I'm actually keeping a suffering journal in '09 where I write down deaths and tragedies of people I know as well as people I just know of. It's amazing how long the list is already and it's just mid April. I learned today that my high school friend who is fighting late stage colon cancer has learned the tumors on her liver are growing and a new spot has shown up. Not good news. And then Debra's mom has a tough battle ahead of her with pancreas cancer. Life is full of suffering. But we human beings are amazingly resilient.
Phelp's mom emailed me about a dream she had of you. It was pretty cool. Here's what she said:
"We were on a retreat, at some large, lovely house in the mountains, pines and sequoias all around, crisp, clean, air, very healthy, the works. Most of the swim team was there, and your whole family was there, and I was there with my son. All of the kids went out hiking, and when they returned, I noticed there was one child whose breath wasn't visible (it was very cold), and I saw that it was Ryan. I turned to point him out to you, but you'd gone. The whole dream was like that: When I was with him, you were nowhere, and when I was with you, you didn't believe I'd seen him. I awoke very frustrated. Anyway, I approached him and asked why I couldn't see his breath, wasn't he cold?? He smiled and responded, "No, I'm dead, I'm warm all the time, perfectly comfortable. I don't get cold, hungry, tired, nothing!" And he beamed at me. "In fact," he continued, "I'm going for another hike, by myself!" And then he flew away, in the style of Harry Potter on Buckbeak, arms wide, grinning ear to ear. "This is great, Mrs. V!!" he called, then he was gone. Then, suddenly, in that way dreams have, we were in the house, and I was showering in a closet, with a drain in the carpet, very weird. You came in and told me to hurry up, or I'd miss--something, I don't remember. I tried to tell you about Ryan, but the dream you wouldn't listen. His flight was beautiful, amazing, yet you wouldn't let me tell you about it. "Don't be silly," as you bustled about the room, "Ryan isn't here". At dinner, I saw him sitting in a crowd of swimmers, but when I turned to tell you, you weren't there. When you entered the room, he was gone, of course. The whole weekend was like that. I finally cornered him high up in a tree (dreams are weird), and told him that you really needed to see him, it would make you feel so much better. Then he hugged me (I've never touched Ryan in my life, but, again, this is a dream), holding up my considerable weight with no effort, though we were really, really high, and a fall would have killed me. He whispered, "I'm not supposed to see her now, only you and Phelps. I'll see Ma later, she knows that". He squeezed me, returned me to my branch, and flew away, leaving me way up in the tree. He was beautiful, sunlight on his face, smiling in the wind. he flew into the sunlight and disappeared. I have no idea how I got down. I just awoke with the impression of having hugged him, and of having him whisper in my ear. He smelled like pool :o). "
I miss that chlorine smell and bleached out towels and sheets and t-shirts. I miss you.
Love
Mom
Hello bud,
I miss you every day to the very core of my being but today is one of those days I need you. I need your advice and guidance. I'm unsure of what to do next with this friend of yours who has gotten himself in a real pickle. Dad and I talked tonight about how upset you would be about the situation. I think you would be calling me every few hours asking me if I had taken care of "it" yet. I think you would want us to help even though it isn't our problem - only another layer of heartache on an already overburdened pair of hearts. I would be telling you to stop worrying about it and study.
Usually my spam filter catches these but today an email from WashU got through. One inviting me to purchase a care package for you for upcoming finals week. WashU was great about getting us off all correspondence right away - except for whatever organization contacts parents about care packages. Such a little thing that hurts so badly.
I got an email today from Leslie Herrmann saying she was feeling especially nostalgic today - realizing it's spring at home in California and remembering the old days on Wycliffe and especially two years ago at this time when you both were excited about your college choices.
A few minutes ago Natalie sent an email telling me about a dream she had of you a couple nights ago. It was strange as dreams are (you had purple eyes) but it was a good one and she woke up feeling happy. I haven't had one of those in such a long time. Wish I would.
Ross is in his room watching a TV show or movie on his computer. He's laughing out loud. A real laugh. It makes me feel good to hear him laugh such an authentic laugh. None of us do much of that anymore.
Love you so dearly, sweet boy.
Mom
Dear Ryan
We're home from Texas where we had a very nice time visiting the family. Your absence was palpable. There were so many things that happened where I found myself thinking how much you would be enjoying the family time. Dad reminded me that you likely couldn't have gone anyway since you would have been at school but just knowing you couldn't made it very sad for us all. We played games, watched Jasi, Lane and Bret rope; dyed & hunted Easter eggs; Dad wrestled in Gran's floor with the boys and gave them horsey rides on his back just like you always did. We went to church with Granddad where he had purchased the altar flowers in memory of you, B and Paul. Abby sat with us. I'm sure she missed you too. We met, Drew, her boyfriend and liked him a lot. Life goes on and we all laughed and had fun but not having you there reminded us all of how special you were and how much fun you always added to the mix.
Dad visited old family friends, the Steeles, who lost their grown son 20 years ago and 7 months after Robin died, his 7 year old daughter was killed in a car wreck. So they lost their son and granddaughter within a year. Dad spent a couple hours with them and I think it was helpful for him. After tragedy strikes, we are much more attuned to the suffering of others.
Granddad has become awfully frail. He is 85, after all, but he is clearly fading. Dad and I both find ourselves envious that he will likely see you much sooner than we will.
I'm reading a novel called The Help by Kathryn Stockett. It's set in the early 60's in racist Jackson, Mississippi and told from the viewpoint of a black maid. It's really good. One of the main characters lost her only son in an accident and here is how she described it.
"I lost my own boy, Treclore, right before I started waiting on Miss Leefolt. He was twenty four years old. The best part of a person's life. It just wasn't enough time living in this world..... By the time I found out, he was dead. That was the day my whole world went black. Air look black, sun look black. I laid up in bed and stared at the black walls a my house. Minny came ever day to make sure I was still breathing, feed me food to keep me living. Took three months fore I even look out the window, see if the world still there. I was surprise to see the world didn't stop just cause my boy did."
She describes it well, in her Southern Negro dialect of 40 years ago. I remember going out for the first time after your funeral and looking at all the cars driving around. I thought "how can the world still spin? How can people still go to the grocery store and the post office and out to eat when Ryan is dead?" Those were the days I felt like I was walking through life with Vaseline on my glasses. A terrible, terrible time.
Debra's mom's surgery was unsuccessful in being able to remove the tumorous part of her pancreas. Not good news. Debra is very sad, of course. I am too for that matter. She is only 70 and a lovely, sweet woman. Another one of those "lie isn't fair" things.
Well dear boy, I've been up since 2am California time so I'm headed to bed. I love you so very much and miss you every minute of every day.
Mom
Dear Ry,
It's 3:47am and we're off to the airport for our trip to Jasper. Doesn't seem right that our entire family, except you, will be together for Easter. Makes me very sad.
I got some very upsetting news last night about a friend you loved very much. He has made some very bad decisions and really screwed up his life. You always worried about him screwing up and in fact, he has, in a big way. I'm not sure how we should help or even if we should help at all. I find myself alternating between being glad you aren't here to be hurt by this and wishing you were here so you could advise me of how much or how little to get involved.
Debra's mom is having surgery today for pancreatic cancer. If you have connections with any special angels up there, put in a good word for her.
Happy Easter sweet boy,
All my love
Mom
Dear Ry,
Nora is here tonight spending the night so we can take her to the airport to catch a 6:30 flight. She's off to Carleton, Johns Hopkins and George Washington - her three finalists - for the final selection process.
Chris G called tonight. Was great to hear from him. He had a "Ryan dream" recently and told me all about it.
I read this passage today from Nicholas Wolterstorff's book "Lament for a Son". ". . . If sympathy for the world's wounds is not enlarged by our anguish, if love for those around us is not expanded, if gratitude for what is good does not flame up, if insight is not deepened, if commitment to what is important is not strengthened, if aching for a new day is not intensified, if hope is weakened and faith diminished, if from the experience of death comes nothing good, then death has won. Then death, be proud" This was the very first book I read after your death. I find I hardly remember it. I was so disoriented at the time. Debra calls it "being in the blender" and that is an apt description. I'm reading it again - with a clearer head this time.
Off to bed so I can get up at 4am to take Nora to SMF.
All my love precious boy,
Mom
Dear Ry,
My new mantra is "life is full of suffering" because it truly is. Debra tells me I am becoming more Buddhist all the time. Today the authorities found the remains of a little 8 year old girl from Tracy who disappeared a week ago Friday from her family's mobile home park. She was stuffed inside a suitcase and thrown in a pond. How horrible. I can only imagine the excruciating pain her family is feeling. I'm sure it defies description by mere words. Our suffering did and surely this is worse. For about 10 days they frantically searched for her, hoping against hope she was okay, all the while imagining the worst. I don't know how you wouldn't go insane during that time of not knowing. At least now they know her suffering is over and she is in Heaven where no one can ever mistreat her again.
In the months immediately following your death, I used to say to Dad that as horrible as our loss was, it couldn't have been any better if you had to die. You didn't suffer; you didn't go missing causing us unbearable worry; you didn't get sick and linger, slowly dying a little each day; you didn't die in shame - you weren't doing anything wrong or weren't under the influence of drugs or alcohol; you didn't commit suicide; you weren't murdered or tortured or frightened; you didn't kill or harm anyone else with your death; we didn't have to raise money to bury you; we were surrounded by throngs of friends & family who loved us and supported us; you were loved, lauded and honored in every way imagineable after your death; and you were happy up until moments if not seconds before you died. And yet losing you was a horrible, horrible thing that felt (and still feels) unbearable. I can only imagine how much worse it is to have one of those added complications. My heart hurts for little Sandra Cantu's family.
I'm reading Don Piper's second book called Heaven Is Real. He says this about how suffering changes us and he's right.
"...through painful experience - and that's the way we have to learn so many of life's lessons. As we understand suffering in ourselves, we can grasp suffering in others...we come out of the experience wiser. We didn't know all the answers to all the problems before our painful, shattering events, but we acted and felt as if we knew most of them. As we reemerge, we feel less confident that we know everything. We're wiser in just that regard. If we've learned, we've become slower to criticize, quicker to listen, and more open to accept."
I had lunch with two of my "grief sisters" today. We talked about seeing or not seeing our dead children after your deaths. One of the moms didn't and wishes she had. The other did and talked about how it felt to kiss her daughter and touch her hand. I told Dad about our conversation and he started sobbing. He said he kissed you several times in the casket. I didn't. I ruffled your hair quite a bit but I don't think I ever touched your skin. I couldn't bring myself to feel the lifelessness. I feel sort of bad about it on one hand and on the other hand I think I would probably react the same way if I had it to do over again. I just remember thinking that you weren't there in that discarded body. The wonderful, lively, joyful, energetic life force we knew as Ryan was long gone by the time we saw your lifeless body. But walking into that room to see your body was the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life.
When I think about you and who you were and all you were to so many people, I think of that line from the Sound of Music's Maria. "How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?" That was you - a moonbeam that couldn't be caught or contained. And how blessed we were to have you - even for a little while. And how much we miss you now.
Love you so much sweet boy
Mom
Dear Ry,
The following was posted on my Facebook a few days ago. I love it that we still get these memories of you from random friends.
Mrs. Dickerson,
Hello my name is Maxine Goynes. I am currently a sophomore at Santa Clara University. I just wanted to take the time to share with you an experience that I found memorable. I went to Johansen High School and was close friends with Leslie Herrmann and Andrea Buzzini. I was fortunate enough to have met your son Ryan through mutal friends when I was in junior high and also had the chance to work at Hollister with Ryan. I always remember the smile he had on his face, or how we would gaze at one another during work because we were tired of hearing the same song on repeat and we'd giggle with one another about how tired the song was. Ryan would always cheer me up because he'd ask about my passion, which is soccer and he would always let me know how awesome he thought it was that I had earned a scholarship to play here at SCU.
When I first came to Santa Clara I met a boy who reminded me of Ryan. I let this student, his name is Mark, and plays on the water polo team know that he reminded me of a friend that I had and had recently lost. I told him how he had went out to Texas, and coincidentally Mark was from Texas. After I told him Ryan's story he stood staring at me and let me know that his girlfriend had worked at the camp with Ryan, your son. I broke into tears because Mark had told me how his girlfriend was touched by your son's spirit, and he heard how amazing of a person he is .
My point in writing you this message is to remind you every person Ryan has come in contact with, has been so touched by the person you and your husband had raised him to be. I will forever remember Ryan, and will keep him in my heart.
Sincerely,
Maxine Goynes
It's a small world, isn't it?
Love you so madly, miss you so badly as Jimmy Buffett says.
Ma
Hey there bud,
I'm home from my week in the Carolinas. It was productive and pleasant and exhausting. I drove to Winston-Salem on Tuesday night and took Natalie to dinner. I love her, Ry. I see why you loved her so much. She was such a perfect match for you - pretty, classy, kind, fun, involved, smart. It makes me so sad that the two of you never got to see where your relationship might go. When I got to her dorm, I found a shiny penny on the floor between her feet and mine. I picked it up, gave it to her and said "here, a Ryan penny." Then later that night when I checked into the Charlotte Westin I found a penny at my feet at the registration desk. Then later when I was in bed, ready to read, I opened my book and there was a penny - inside my book next to my bookmarker. Sure seemed like signs to me.
Today is Chris G's 20th birthday. I can't believe he isn't a teenager anymore. I found myself thinking of the two of you all morning - reliving fun memories. I remember him spending the night before Dodge Ridge ski trips on the Valley bus in 7th & 8th grade. The two of you would talk and laugh long after you were supposed to be asleep. I would go in to shush you and remind you of your 5am wake up time and Chris' antics would make me laugh too. I remember our summer trips to Cayucos with such fondness. Just the three of us - you two body surfing and looking for cutie-patooties, as Matt Miller called them. We had so much fun on those trips. I remember sitting in the Foster Freeze in Morro Bay where we went to get ice cream and Chris made us laugh until ice cream came out our noses. Then the time I got mad at Chris for putting one of your Ritalan tablets in the fish bowl. You were double overed with laughter as I fussed at him for drugging the fish and changed the water in the fish bowl. I remember his birthday dinners at his house each year and how much you loved him mom's Assyrian cooking. I remember Dad always threatening Chris and saying "just wait until you're 18!" and now 18 has come & gone and Dad has never followed through on cleaning Chris' clock. I remember discovering Chris had taken your Robert Campbell Award plaque because as he said "Ryan has so many and I don't have any." I nagged you to get it back but finally you said "Mom - I want Chris to have it." So Chris still has it even though he tried to return it the day after you died. I told him to keep it because you wanted him to have it. There are so many happy memories with Chris in them.
I read a great book on my trip. It's by Elizabeth McCracken and titled An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination. It's a memoir about her life before and after her first son was stillborn. She's a gifted writer and does a great job of capturing the pain and sorrow that comes from losing a child. The day Ross was born the receptionist at the Lewisville Leader where I was publisher had a stillborn child. We were in the same hospital, on the same floor. I remember feeling so sad for her but my sadness for her loss was overshadowed by my own happiness over Ross' birth. She quit her job at the paper and never came back. I'm sure the thought of seeing me every day and hearing my stories of my new baby were too much for her to bear. I understand that now so much more than I did in 1985 when I was a naive, unscarred 27 year old.
I dreamed about you last night. First time in a long time. You would think that with so much of my psyche occupied with thoughts of you that I would dream about you every night but I don't. It's a gift when I do.
Love and miss you so very much
Mom
Hey Ryan,
I don't really write anymore. But that definitely doesn't mean that I don't think of you. I think of you everyday. One of my friends was in a really dark place. And we were talking about what is the purpose of life. Why are we here? Why do we get up in the morning? And I don't have any answers. I mean I am only 20 years old. What can I possibly know.
But I told him that one of the reasons I get up in the morning is because I know you can't. And I still don't understand why you can't. But I want to live life for the best of us. I want you to be able to question life. To have doubts. To try and find yourself like it seems like we are all trying to do now. I guess I still miss you. And it's been more than a year but it still hurts to remember that I can't call you. That we can't get back together in Modesto over spring break.
I know you are looking down on us all and watching out for us. But I wish you didn't have to. It was too soon for you my friend.
Love,
Your Tiger
Dear Ry,
I just read a gut wrenching letter in the Compassionate Friends newsletter from a bereaved Dad written to his daughter on the one year anniversary of her death. She died last March just as she was finishing up her residency and moving back to California to become a doctor, making her immigrant parents so proud. When I read stuff like this, I realize that Dad and I aren't the only ones to feel the kind of pain and profound loss we have endured for the last 20 months. (20 months today.) Here is one short paragraph from the Dad's letter that rang true.
"Both your mom and me are hanging in the twilight zone between life and death. We lost pleasure in living. We go through the
motions and try to keep busy at work. We feel guilty for living day to day even though our friends tell us we have to go on living
for the sake of your brother. We feel baffled and frightened at the extent of this sudden devastation. We wish at all times that no
parent should ever be condemned to endure our fate."
Mrs. Pugh texted me from church this morning to say they were singing Lord of the Dance and she couldn't sing it. She said "I miss Ryan."
Dad and I worked our fingers to the bone in our yard this weekend. As I was weeding today I kept thinking of stories people have told me about you. When we were in Wichita Falls a couple weeks ago, John Daugherty told several great stories about your weekend in the Falls in June, 2007 - just weeks before your life ended. He told how you jumped out of the boat in Hells Gate and swam along side the boat as they slowly motored through the no wake zone. He said when he got the word you had drowned he remembered that swimming feat and said to himself..."no. That couldn't be. I saw him swim."
Nora is setting the world on fire with college admissions. You would be so proud of her. She has yeses from UCLA, Cal, Johns Hopkins, George Washington, UC Santa Barbara, Carleton, Oberlin, Boston University and she's been wait listed at WashU. It renews my faith in the flawed college admissions process.
I'm getting up at 3:30am to catch a 6:20 flight to Raleigh. I'll be gone all week so I won't be writing to you until Friday. I plan to drive to Winston-Salem to have dinner with Natalie on Tuesday night.
I miss you so very much, Ry.
All my love,
mom
Hey sweet boy,
I cried driving to work today. I don't know what brought it on - nothing really. I just found myself missing you so very, very much. I was remembering your energy and enthusiasm and joy. I talked to Miss Kanaly from LaLoma this aftenoon. She had a Bee problem she needed help with. I asked her if Daniel Hyde had been one of her students and she got very somber and said "Yes. He was also a Campbell Award winner." Then she went on to tell me that in her 16 years of teaching she has only bought a gift for a student twice. Once for Daniel and once for you. She bought books for each of you. She said she is never going to buy a book for a student ever again. Then she lamented how unfair life is for kids like you and Daniel to be taken when there are so many young men in prison and doing despicable things with their lives. We agreed we will have many questions to ask God when we get to Heaven with you.
Today in my audiobook, the protagonist said her aunt always quoted Luke 12:48. As you would recall that has always been my favorite Bible verse - To whom much is given, much is required. For years, I drilled it into you and Ross and lived by it. Now that I've been given this horrible tragedy, I wonder how I'm supposed to apply that scripture to my life. I guess if I wanted to be bitter and nasty, which I am sometimes tempted to be, I could interpret it to mean nothing else is required of me in this life. But I know that isn't so. I'm afraid it's just the opposite. I think I'm now required to redeem this terrible loss for something good. Easier said than done but it feels like my assignment.
All my love,
Mom
Dear Ry,
Yesterday in Modesto, we took Howard and Barb by the library to see your tree. They were impressed. The librarians told us stories of how the tree is loved by library patrons and that many people stop to read about you on the plaque.
Then we had dinner at Concettas before going to the State Theater. Saw several people we knew at dinner. That's what I love and miss about Modesto. It's our town. I feel anonymous in Sacramento and I don't like being anonymous.
Dad typed a letter to Robert Earl Keen and enclosed a copy of your college essay, along with one of the "Ryan brochures". In the letter, Dad pointed out how you quoted REK in your essay. Our friend, Barb - ever bold and shameless - took it to REK's bus and made sure he got it.
The concert was good. You would have especially liked it. The warm up act was a guy named Hayes Carll - a drawly Texas folk singer who you would have very much liked. He had clever lyrics and a cute sense of humor. Reminded me of Adam Carroll - that guy you and Ross used to listen to. Robert Earl didn't sing The Front Porch song - just as well I guess since it would have surely made me cry. The Road Goes on Forever almost made me cry.
At intermission I was in the lobby talking to Sue Richardson, the manager of The State who is an old friend from The Bee and I looked over at the concession line and there were Nora and Brendan. I was so happy to see them. They had come to see Robert Earl because of you. Of all your friends, I think maybe Brendan loved you the most. You continue to have a very special place in his heart and I think you always will.
I read an obituary in the Sac Bee today for a boy born 3 days before you - on Feb 13, 1989. From the obit, it sounds as if he was born with a heart condition but his death was still unexpected. I mourn with his parents whom I have never met. Also, earlier this week a small plane crashed in Montana carrying 3 California families to a ski vacation. 7 kids under 10 died. I saw a photo of the grandfather who lost two grown daughters and 5 grandkids. My heart breaks for him. My hairdresser and I discussed it today. She said she didn't think she could survive that much loss and I agreed. I told her of the many, many times I didn't think I could survive losing you - and I still have Dad and Ross. But we do survive those horrific losses because we have no other choice and because God sends us people who hold us up until we can stand on our own again.
I miss you so much.
all my love,
Mom
Dear Ry,
I didn't write to you last night because we were late getting home from a dinner with my company's Board of Directors. We said goodbye to a retiring board member who has had quite an interesting life. I found myself wanting to tell you about him. He is a lawyer and represented the Hearst family when Patty Hearst was kidnapped in the early 70's. He also has represented Jefferson Airplane, The Grateful Dead and the Getty family. He knew Harvey Milk and George Mosconi and lots of famous San Franciscians. His stories are legendary and entertaining and I can just see you listening to him - a liberal's liberal - with rapt attention. There are so many things in my life that I miss sharing with you.
Tonight we're going to Modesto to see Robert Earl Keen at the State Theater. Ross is going with us, as well as some friends from Sac and Steve & Debra. It will be one of those bittersweet times for our family. I am sure we will cry if he sings The Back Porch song. That song will forever be Ryan's song in Robert Earl's repertiore as far as we're concerned.
This morning I was searching for a particular spring jacket in my closet. It was nowhere to be found so I looked in your closet where I sometimes hang out of season "overflow" clothes. I didn't find the jacket I was looking for but I was swallowed up by longing & sadness for you as I stood there surrounded by your clothes. I put my face into a pile of folded shorts and boxers and sobbed. Your room makes Dad cry but not me. Your closet makes me cry almost every time I go in it. Seeing your clothes and shoes and junk squeezes me heart and wrings it out.
We are singing a hymn at church each Sunday during Lent that I am growing to love. It's called Hymn of Promise and it is especially meaningful to both Dad and me and we find ourselves living for eternity. Here is the refrain I like so much.
"In our end is our beginning; in our time, infinity;
In our doubt there is believing; in our life, eternity.
In our death, a resurrection; at the last, a victory,
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see."
Love and miss you much,
Ma
Dear Ry,
Grandpa Robbie died 3 years ago today. Often I think of the two of you being in heaven together - getting to know each other better than you did in this life. I know you must like each other very much. Grandpa Robbie loved people with "hustle" and a strong work ethic. You had both. He always said you reminded him of Derek Jeter, the Yankee baseball player. He was a good man and you were a good boy so you surely are enjoying getting better acquainted. I remember sitting in the Houston airport as we were flying home from his funeral in '06. That's when I learned your Macintosh laptop had been stolen by one of the contractors working on our remodel at home. I was so upset. You had just gotten it for Christmas. As usual, I was much more upset than you were and you took responsibility for leaving it on the coffee table when you went to school. I also remember how proud I was to show you off to my relatives at the funeral. Ross didn't get to go because he had to work so you & Dad flew in together. I was already there. You were such fun that weekend. Gran & Bamps loved having you and the little cousins delighted in your antics and attention. Despite the sad reason we were there, it was a good trip with quality family time. That was the last time you were ever in Jasper - one of your favorite places. We're going to Jasper for Easter and it will be sad to go without you.
I was cleaning out emails today and found one I had saved from Erica. She sent it to me a couple weeks ago when I was traveling. It made me smile because I could see it all happening. It also reminded me of something Julia Solomon told me. She said you used to call her on the weekends sometimes - saying silly, outrageous things. She assumed you were "drunk dialing" her until all the other kids told her you didn't drink. I'm not sure if it was a compliment or not that you often acted tipsy when you were totally sober. Your exuberance for life bubbled over most of the time. Here's what Erica said about you.
"I was reading through your letters to Ryan today between my classes and was reminded of such a funny memory of Ryan. You mentioned in one of your letters that in Ryan's "Three things" one of his favorite drinks would have been mexican sodas. I must say I completely agree with you. One night during Senior Year my parents were out of town so I had some people over for a small party.
I am not exactly proud to say that I deceived my parents but needless to say there were some alcoholic beverages there but those drinks are not what made the night so memorable for me. Ryan came over that night too and instead of asking me for a typical beer he wanted to know if he could have some of the mexican orange soda that was in my refrigerator. He even asked me how to pronounce the name of the bottle and of course completely butchered it. Naturally I said he could help himself, little did I know Ryan would be drinking about 6 of them that night. He was bouncing off the walls by the end of the night frequently telling me how good this stuff was and if he could take the whole case home with him. I couldnt help but laugh that while the rest of his friends were acting goofy because of some alcohol, Ryan was way more goofy and memorable because of several mexican sodas. The day after Ryan had died, I purposely went to my frig and had one of those mexican sodas in his memory."
Love & miss you dearly goofy boy,
Mom
Hello sweet boy,
We have had a nice weekend - pretty weather, a little needed rain, pleasant dinners with other bereaved parents who understand our pain and walk beside us on this awful journey, satisfying work in the garden, quality time with Ross. Now a new week begins in a few hours and the pressure cooker heats up once more. Dad has a sub gig tomorrow at a middle school. And I will fight the newspaper wars with all my resources.
Dad, Ross and I raked, pulled, snipped, trimmed, dug and planted for hours yesterday and today. As I pulled all the weeds that have sprung up with the spring rains and warm weather, my mind kept wandering to Daniel Hyde's family. His burial was Friday and his memorial service was yesterday. Jeremy's birthday was Friday and he spent it attending his cousin's burial. What a lousy way to commemorate your 20th birthday. It's been 2 weeks since his parents got the grim news - I'm sure they have been "in the blender" as Debra says. Shock serving as nature's bandage - allowing them to make all the necessary arrangements to bury their boy. Now all the services are over and the guests are probably going home, leaving them with their broken hearts and the pain that can't be described with mere words. I hurt for them and I don't even know them.
Friday night we hosted our bereaved parent support group dinner. One of the moms reminded me of what we have all read about the second year being harder in many ways. I had forgotten that even though I had read it several times during my first year and thought it was a ludicrous concept. How on earth could year 2 be worse than that hellish first year? I still don't believe it is but it is different - and still bad. During the first year you are still a little numb - still walking around like a zombie much of the time - still in shock to some degree. But year 2 - Year 2 is when it kicks in that this is forever. We're not going back to the way things were - ever. Don Piper writes about "markers" in his book Heaven is Real. He says "But life does throw us curve balls. Our plans go awry. People fail us. Accidents happen. Regardless of the cause, life changes. ...Regardless of what happens, our lives are irrevocably affected, sometimes dramatically, sometimes less so. Regardless of the extent, life becomes different.....Growth means we acknowledge the past, accept the present, but look to the future....There must be an accepted end before there can be a new beginning. And there's usually an important empty time between the two. It's the time when we try to make sense of what hit us, especially when we had no warning."
I have decided there's no making sense of what happened to us. It just is what it is. It sucks but it is what it is and there's not a thing I can do about it. We are definitely in that "empty time" right now.
Dad and I were sweeping the patio this afternoon and Dad teared up and said "I really miss our old life." He then went on to reminisce about cleaning the patio furniture and power washing the decks for the first team each spring on Wycliffe. Later I talked to Debra and we lamented how if we still lived there we would have gone to Oklahoma! with them today at MJC and then had dinner in the outdoor kitchen. Things weren't supposed to turn out the way they have. I sometimes feel like it's all my fault for taking the "new job" (which is almost 3 years old now). I often think I caused a cosmic tilt in the universe with that decision.
My library book was due yesterday and I am nowhere near done with it so I must go read. That dime a day fine will add up and you know how that stresses Dad out.
I miss you so much, Ryan.
all my love,
Mom
Hey bud,
Mallory visited us tonight. She is such a dear. I took her to dinner while Dad was at his Hospice bereavement group. She promised to help Ross look after us when we're old. Wasn't that sweet?
I cried a bit earlier tonight while looking around on Facebook. All the seniors are getting their college acceptances and rejections. I specifically went to Nora's page because I'm especially interested in what is sure to be her long list of acceptances. I found myself tearing up as I looked at her swim season pictures and read of her college news. UCLA and Santa Barbara want her so far. It reminds me so much of just two short years ago when our lives were so good - full of hope and promise and excitement. Who would have ever dreamed that just a few months later our world would shatter.
Today my friend Mark Looker posted a link on his Facebook page. It was to a memorial site for the 19 year old son of his college roommate who died suddenly on Monday night after playing a game of recreational soccer at Chapman University in SoCal. He complained of dizziness and was dead an hour later. I'm sure it will turn out to be an undiagnosed heart condition - likely what happened to you. I literally got goose bumps reading the story. It hit much too close to home and I find my thoughts going back to his poor mom & dad over & over tonight. Their lives have irreversibly changed and they are just beginning their journey through hell.
Tomorrow is Jeremy's birthday and he will be attending his first cousin's memorial service. Bless his sweet heart.
As I now always say....life is full of suffering. And the world is too dangerous and scary for anything but love & kindness.
I miss you so much.
all my love
Ma
Dear Ryan,
Natashia Richardson, one of my favorite actresses, died today after hitting her head while skiing over the weekend. She was the mom in Parent Trap II and after we saw the movie, I tried unsuccessfully for months to get a haircut like hers. I feel sad for her two little boys who will now grow up without their mom.
While on our walk this afternoon, Dad and I came upon a bevy of young boys - about 8th or 9th graders, I'm guessing - playing golf. They seemed like nice kids and they were having fun. Dad said "I'm glad Ry wasn't a golfer. That scene would have made me too sad." I told him it made me sad anyway. Anytime I see a group of boys having fun together I think of you and your posse. I miss having a house full of hungry, loud, messy boys.
Over the weekend Aunt Les, Pam and I were talking about whether the cousins will remember you as they continue to grow up. Bret, who adored you, was only 5 so I'm sure his memories of you will be very dim at best. Aunt Les made a good point though. She said she can't remember much about her kindergarten teacher but she remembers her kindness & how much she loved her. I guess that's what all of us will eventually be left with as our memories fade - the essence of you.
My bereaved mother pen pal in Pennsylvania sent a link to me today. It is a blog written by a woman whose 50 year old husband dropped dead on the treadmill a few weeks ago. The woman is an author and blogger by trade so naturally she is blogging about her grief, much like I have been doing for the last 19 months. She said something that validated my own actions. Amy Welborn said this: "Those of you who think it is strange I am "saying" anything at all just know that I am a writer, a communicator, and that is how I process. Some would process through piecing quilts together or cooking or going for walks or painting - for me it is writing and things don't even begin to make sense for me unless I write them." I know there are people out there who believe my letters to you are either weird or unhealthy. Some people think I'm making my private thoughts too public. Some others think I'm wallowing in my grief and need to get on with living. And you know me - you know how I want to please everyone. Accepting criticism is not my strong suit. So reading that passage helped me realize that writing to you is my way of working through my grief - and it is indeed work - and it is right for me and it helps Dad to read what I write. So I will continue to do it until it no longer seems necessary or helpful. And if others disapprove, I guess that will have to be their problem.
Love & miss you so much
Mom
Dear Ry,
I drove to Modesto today for Alyssa's grandmother's funeral. It was a packed house so I felt fortunate that as I walked up to the church, Mr. Taylor, Alyssa's grandfather, was standing out front alone. I walked up to him, told him how sorry I am for his loss and hugged him. He looked me square in the eye and said "What you went through is worse than this." Then he went on to say "I lost a son too, you know." I told him I did know and that I hope it is comforting to him to know his wife and son are together again. He said it is.
I'm listening to an audio book written by Isabelle Allende. She lost her 28 year old daughter years ago and narrates this book to her. In a passage I listened to today she referenced the 4 year anniversary of her Paula's death. She said she was surprised to still be so sad -and then she realized that there would always be a great pool of sadness just under her skin - for the rest of her life. I, too, believe that to be true. At Mrs. Taylor's funeral today, I did the math and figured out she was about 60 when her son, Doug, died 24 years ago. Living 24 more years seems impossible and depressing to me.
Dad prepared his funeral plans today and emailed them to Debra - pall bearers, songs, speakers, etc. He has a list of regular pallbearers who are all friends of yours and Ross' and a list of honorary pall bearers who are adults. As we were walking tonight, he realized that since he's going to be cremated, there really isn't a need for all those pallbearers. Since most of them are water polo players, he decided maybe his ashes can be put in a water polo ball and the boys can pass it back & forth and then at the end, one of them can make a shot on goal into the grave. We tried to decide who was the best shot in the group....Lance, Mark, Bryan, Stevie, Brendan....?
Ross had oral surgery today so he's swollen up like a chipmunk and sore.
Love you so much sweet boy
Mom
Dear Ry,
I needed you twice for my crossword puzzle today - the shopkeeper in The Simpsons and the Restaurant owner from The Sopranos. I could have called you for both answers. I also wanted to call and tell you I read in the paper this morning where Bruno from The West Wing died - but maybe you already know that.
I have become email friends with a woman in North Carolina who lost a son last June in a car wreck. She writes a blog twice a week on the Charlotte Observer moms' site and I read it faithfully. She is a gifted writer and often her words ring so true with me that I wish I had written them myself. Her entry from last Thursday was one of those that resonated completely. I know our friends and family have thought I was either melodramatic or mentally unstable at times as I have talked about losing my will to live. Tammy Garlock says it perfectly here:
"It takes every ounce of courage I possess to get up and go through the motions of being all that I am expected to be. Although I am altered, my responsibilities remain the same; obligations must be met, regardless of my indifference. This world still spins as it always has, and the pages of the calendar flip without fail; life all around me buzzes, humming with activity and purpose, despite my pain and struggle to belong or contribute as before… It is extremely hard being one of those left behind…
Everyone has heard tales of suffering and sorrow where a person simply grieves themselves away; I wondered how this could be, why someone would just give up on life. I couldn’t possibly have grasped this before…it was unfathomable to me… But now it is crystal clear…an undesired awareness has been born… I truly understand what it means to die of a broken heart. I know how easily it could happen. Giving up, giving in, not caring anymore, call it what you want. It is a siren song, murmuring your name, promising sweet relief from that which you cannot reconcile… It is the dark shadowy place that offers comfort by virtue of its nothingness and lack of expectation, emerging when you are utterly alone except for your misery... It is the smothering, suffocating awareness of your new life and your inability to change anything about it... It is the long list of regrets and words unspoken, things contemplated that you will never complete or be able to forget... It is the bitter battle fought at the horizon where your future dreams and harsh reality collide, a civil war between your head and your heart… It is the loneliness created in the wake of a loss so incomprehensible, so impossible, that it eclipses your very will to live on in this altered state… It is an outright rejection of the life that has been given to you, for it most certainly is not one you would have chosen for yourself…ultimately it is an unwillingness to submit your will to that of His…
I believe that our survival essentially comes down to acceptance versus denial. We face each day and whatever comes with it, one breath at a time, for that is as much as we can handle. As we confront, endure and conquer these agonizing ‘firsts’, I pray that each will help us to gradually move toward acceptance of His larger plan for our lives. Because I know there is one…
‘Beloved Son, how we miss you so;
We are trying hard to let you go.
Every day, we attempt to face,
This world without you in your place.
Our comfort is that you're not alone,
As God saw fit to call you home.’"
I am tired and discouraged again tonight. I love you very, very much.
Mom
Dear Ry,
Home again, home again, jiggity jig.
I left last Wed for Las Vegas - a despicable,sad place in my opinion. I couldn't help remembering the last time I was there - about 2 years ago. While there in '07, I searched high and low for a World Series Poker shirt for you. Never found one in your size that I thought you would like so I bought you a pair of poker boxers insteaed. Everything now reminds me of happier days gone by.
I flew from Vegas to Wichita Falls last Thursday. We had a wonderful time in the Falls. The Daughertys hosted a reception for us before the Hospice dinner so we could see lots of old friends. It was great to see so many people we love. Many came by. Henry, Clark and Carly were there. Henry is "yoked" as Ross would say. He's huge - in that good way that you boys so admire. Henry is handsome and as sweet as ever. We always loved Henry. Also got to see the McAden boys. They are all grown up which amazes me. They were all really sweet to us. We stayed with the McAdens and in my mind's eye, I could see you bounding up their stairs - stopping halfway up to say something to someone on the ground floor. I could see you slumped down on the couch in the playroom, playing video games with Nic and Jaxon. You had many fun times in that house. We stopped by the Averas on our way out of town. Travis is over 6 ft tall and about to graduate. Again, going in that backdoor reminded me of the many times I went there to pick you up from playing with Jeremy.
My speech at the Hospice dinner went well. Several other people who have also lost children or grandchildren spoke with us afterward and said my comments were helpful. That's my goal - to bring a modicum of comfort to someone else or at least a sense of knowing someone else understands the depth of their pain. One woman shared her story of losing her own 18 year old son 24 years ago in a drowning accident and her 4 year old grandson in a drowning accident 3 years ago. Just doesn't seem right.
On Friday morning we met with the social workers, chaplains, bereavement counselors and other Hospice staff members. All of that nourishes my soul and Lord knows, my soul needs nourishing these days.
We spent the rest of the weekend in Highland Village at Aunt Les' house. We also saw A-man and Shanna and Miss Carol Whites. We played Taboo on Friday night. It was fun and we laughed. It feels weird to have fun and laugh with you gone. But I know you would want that.
I had a nice phone conversation with Mrs. Ashlock while I was in WF. Then today she sent me an email telling me her mother died early this morning. She knew it was coming but she's still very sad. Alyssa's grandmother also died over the weekend.
Scrumpy and Ross were both glad to see us. And we're glad to be home. I hope we see some of your friends while they are home for spring break.
My calendar quote today is from Samual Rutherford and says
Our little time of suffering is not worthy of our first night's welcome home to Heaven.
I sure hope ol' Sam is right. That's what I'm banking on.
Dad and I commented this afternoon on our walk how even though we are learning to move forward with our lives, our happiness meter will never reach as high again in our earthly lives as it once did.
Love & miss you so very much
mom
Dear Ry,
In yesterday's mail were your two final paychecks from Hollister. I have no idea why you never picked them up. I guess our absent minded professor forgot about them. But they tracked us down and mailed them to you. Getting mail addressed to you is still like a punch in the gut. I suggested to Dad that we give the money to Ross since he has none and I'm sure you would like for him to have it. So this morning as I was giving the checks to Ross - one for $54.71 and one for $24.07, I realized they totalled $78.78. Another one of those weird number things that feels like a sign from you.
It's spring break time for college kids again. I remember how hard this month was last year when everyone but you was coming home. It isn't quite as hard this year though I find myself thinking of it often. Mallory and Chris are coming to see us next week while they are home. Brianna is going to Florida so we won't see her. We rarely ever hear from Tyler so I don't expect to see him though it would be a nice surprise if we did. Natalie is in San Diego.
I continue to hurt vicariously for the Hyde family. I don't even know them yet I find myself thinking of them numerous times throughout the day - mourning with them over their profound loss. You and Daniel were similar in so many ways from everything I've read. Surely the two of you have connected in heaven and discussed Jeremy - Laramue to you.
I leave early in the morning for a meeting in Vegas and then my trip to Wichita Falls to speak at the Hospice dinner. Then we're going to see Aunt Les, Pam & Alex. I'll write to you when I return on Sunday.
Love you so very much
Mom
Hello Ryanizer,
I was just in the media room with Ross. I was going through my catalogs while he watched some dumb movie on T.V. I asked what it was and he said Dodgeball. It made me laugh and almost cry at the same time. I remember when that movie came out at the theater and you saw it about 5 times. You thought it was he-larious! I should have known it would be stupid. You always loved stupid comedy. My movie litmus test was if you liked it I was almost sure to hate it. :)
I read all the legacy.com entries for Daniel Hyde today. They remind me so much of all the nice things said about you in the days following your death. From the things people are saying about him, the two of you shared many similar traits. He was even Homecoming King at Downey his senior year. I hurt for his parents, knowing the hell they are going through right now and in the days and weeks and months and even years to come. Losing someone so special - that you love so much is indescribable.
Love you so much bud,
Mom
Dear Ry,
Peggy sent me sad news today. Jeremy's first cousin, Daniel Hyde, who is Ross' age died in Iraq. Peggy compared him to you and said:
"Another one of our brightest star
Thoughts & Remembrance