Going on without you

There are only a handful of pictures of Ryan, five years of memories frozen in time of a little boy who we never saw grow to be the young man of 32 today. These photos stir up moments of the past with a smile and a tear, as I reminisce the life we once shared. 

Pain has a way of blurring the present, making us forget the simple details of a wonderful life. And even though loss is random, I could not help but feel picked on, after all, most of my friends have their parents, siblings and  children today, the finality of death has not altered their lives. An end that wakes us up to realize the finite amount of life we have. 

It is not fair that Ryan did not have the opportunity to grow up and experience the wonders of this world. But even with his brief time in our lives, he taught so many so much. Many take a lifetime and never achieve all he did in those 5 years, and to that I must be grateful.

On that day that Ryan died, I wanted to die too. The pain so raw and unbearable, it would have been easy to follow Ryan, but God tucked Chelsea's tiny hand in mine, and I held on.

It is only with time that I saw the future more clearly, a future I could not imagine back then. I am grateful for the joy that has returned to my life, savoring each moment of today while holding onto the moments of the past.

I am awakened by the grace of God, to see the good within the tragedy, now able to use his birth to celebrate his life. A gentle nudge to those around me to find their way to a kind act today, and always.