I already feel myself starting to sink. The eighteen-month anniversary of Ryan’s brutal beating, inflicted by Jonathan May and Austin Vantrease, arrives within hours. Not that I should be surprised, this feeling has been building since one day after the seventeenth month. It’s like a slow drain; I cannot empty the emotions fast enough to overcome the influx. For me, tomorrow is NOT just another day. It’s a monumental marker put right in front of my face. A reminder of what was lost. It is a testament to the endless days and nights to follow.
Eighteen months! They have rolled together so that I have difficulty sequencing events. In many ways, it has simply been an eternally long day. November 9, 2009 might never end for this family.
I often wonder how we would have made it this far without the support and love that constantly surrounds us. I have drawn on this so many times to get me past a rough moment. Those times when hatred erupts to the surface. Times when the heartache is felt in every cell of the body. Times of hopelessness and despair. Times when the physical exhaustion is so extensive that it brings pain.
Faces of those who protect us pop up in my mind… it brings comfort and solace.
And then, it’s all played over again. Over and over. Without ending. Without a break.