For most today is a run-of-the-mill Wednesday. A typical “hump day” that is so ordinary that it will be forgotten by almost everyone the instant tomorrow arrives.
That’s not the case for me. Certainly not so for Ryan.
It just so happens that this Wednesday — today — marks exactly 4½ years since Ryan was so brutally beaten. It was 1,644 days ago that Austin Issac Vantrease and Jonathan Matthew May destroyed my son’s brain and left him for dead on the cold parking lot gravel. Then only to cower behind a dumpster until they hear the police and ambulance sirens. Then they run and hide from the damage they caused.
Nothing has changed in how they have behaved since.
No matter how many days have come and gone, the agony and despair never relent. It just keeps getting worse as hope gets chipped away. There is no mercy.
All those mornings when I started a new day. Each feels as surreal as those before. It as though I’m living a nightmare, screaming for someone to wake me. For anyone to assure me this is all just a bad dream… that Ryan is fine.