I’m so sad today.
The Thanksgiving family time is now ended. My daughter, Kari, is heading back to college. My wife is leaving (during the night) for three days in New York City. The house will certainly feel emptier.These past several days together were filled with love and laughter. It was also with a constant undercurrent of grief. I miss Ryan. We all miss Ryan. It was all I could do not to lose it at the holiday dinner. It hurt at the deepest level to see my boy, sitting at the table in his wheelchair, and not able to participate in the conversation.
There was no voting on what movie we would all see later that day at the local theater. The stories he would tell were silent and we all missed them… but said nothing. Ryan didn’t hoard the green bean casserole. We didn’t grab the football and play catch in the yard. Instead, the ball sat in the garage with the accumulation of five years of debris and dust. It had gone soft over the time from slowly deflating.
Nope. It was a day of therapies, medications, and a voice that was noticeably quieted. Instead of him having all the flavors of the day, Ryan was fed formula through a g-tube. In the midst of all to be thankful for having, it hurt like hell for what we no longer have. It’s cruel.
This “life” is just so surreal. So unfair. So painful.