Missing Ryan

It is not supposed to be like this. Ron and I getting everything ready for Christmas like life is the same. My son, oh how I miss my son. How can I shop for Christmas Eve jammies for 2 sons instead of 3? His bag is here with his name ready for his jammies to slip inside. Those pictures of him with Santa and the fishing ornaments are not helping me get through this safely.

Ron is back at the computer with pictures and videos just like he was almost 9 months ago. A father obsessed with editing and preserving his sons precious smiles and baby laughs. How often can he sit and watch Ry's pumpkin pie performance. Guess the number is limitless.

Life goes on and then that stops me cold. As I put the rolls in the oven for the dinner that he won't be eating with us. Someone pointed out that he was not here last year either, but if you knew how many times he called me you would know that we spent more time together last year than we ever had. He sent dozens of pictures of his famous cookies and wanted to know what we were doing throughout the day. Ryan didn't just call when he needed something, he called because he loved us and wanted to be share in every moment.

His chipper greeting of 'Hello Beautiful' never failed to bring a smile to my face. Now I know other people love me but no one but my Scooter called me beautiful. Sometimes while the tears are calling I can barely breathe from missing him. I know this is reality but I don't want to embrace this truth of life without my son.

If hearts can really break then we are there. Ron at the computer with that little guys face just staring for hours and me in bed, yes back to my bed. Our outsides are going through the motions but the insides are crushed with the weight of our pain.

I try to look at the positives, try to cling to my faith but my missing him is overwhelming me tonight. Never again will I judge others for not being able to handle what life throws at them. This is certainly more than I can bear. Someone wrote on a Christmas card how brave we are. What?/?? Brave, seriously, brave? No we are not brave. What would brave look like? What would weak and scared and horrified look like? I don't feel brave. I am surviving but that doesn't make me brave. I believe Ryan is in Christ's loving embrace but I don't want him there, I want him here in my embrace! I feel selfish. I feel jealous of the man at church who told me he was so thankful to have his boys home for Christmas. I feel like throwing the decorated Christmas tree in the back yard and staying in bed.

What I will do is get up in the morning and add tears to the recipe for cinnamon rolls. What I will do is pray for strength as I smell them bubbling in the oven to golden perfection. Ry and I spent a lot of time perfecting the cinnamon rolls and this year I pray they are the best yet. I will enjoy opening thoughtful gifts from my family and watch them open theirs.

This is our 1st Christmas with Ryan in heaven but it won't be our last. We will cling to each other with tears flowing, thankful for the years we had with our son. Thankful for the abundant love he shared and the example he set for each of us to reach out to others. Missing Ryan is like breathing or blinking always a part of us even when we aren't aware. I can live with that and learn to live without him here.

In Him,
Joyful
12-24-2010