Preface to this blog post: There is really no point or great acknowledgement, other than … it is what it is.
“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people just exist.” 0scar Wilde
Two weeks before our family lost Ryan Hall, son, brother, common law husband, dad, nephew, cousin, friend, provider, adventurer, sinner, A student, F student, athlete, substance abuser, recovered addict, Child of God and the list goes on… Nathan and I were in Hannibal for a wedding and a funeral. Our dear friend’s daughter was getting married and a high school acquaintance was burying her son following his suicide. The weekend was mixed.
We love spending time with our family and Ryan’s family. The wedding was beautiful and fun and … well weddings are hard for us… but we didn’t feel that this time. We were with people we loved that loved us and our hearts had healed a bit more since the last wedding attempt. Then the visitation rocked our world. As we learned about this child (19 is still a child), we couldn’t help but see the similarities with him and Jack. We hurt for the parents, friends, siblings, and- selfishly- ourselves all over again. As we got back to our family’s home, Ryan and his family were there to enjoy the day and he was riding his motorcycle- fast and loud! When he pulled into the yard, I fussed at him and I used my hurt mamma heart to say “… no mamma wants to go through what we saw today or the journey we are on so slow down and be extra careful.” Ryan chuckled (I wish I could describe it better) and said “… you only live once. I’m gonna live and have fun doing it.”
He then moved on to running the pitching machine for his 13 year old and coaching his 2 girls to track down the balls and bring them back safely. Interesting how he was so specific with his girls to keep them safe of the pitching machine and hit balls. So concerned for his own children. Fast forward to the end of the night, Ryan’s cell phone dropped out of his pocket while on this motorcycle driving to town to get a car part for his – well, she’s his wife… not on paper, but in heart and soul, – when he arrived after dark he had the broken phone and not the car part. I share this so that all those that have or live with a person that operates with an ADHD brain have a clear picture of what Ryan experienced every day. A Nero typical person would be so mad and frustrated at the events. How could he not have the part? The exception to that response is those that have walked with an ADHD brain before. Ryan didn’t speak to us upon his return, but instead gathered his family and went home. What Nathan and I knew in our hearts after years with Jack and Olivia and meJ … is Ryan was beating himself up more than any outsider could. He lost a valuable phone in the pursuit of rescuing someone he loved dearly and it got messier from his actions, not better.
Fast forward two weeks, the call… I knew when Nathan’s phone rang at midnight. Intuition is strong when you have walked our path. I could hear through his phone as his sister delivered the news that she had lost her son, as we had, in a car accident. I can’t say exactly what I said or did, but inside (maybe outside) I screamed like you can’t imagine. My pain was so immediate, deep, and extended to so many hearts that just broke. I wanted to get in the car at that moment … surely I could do something … Ryan’s parents were integral to our healing and that has not stopped since May 2017! Then it hit me, Ryan has kids… property… he is an adult with tremendous responsibilities. I flashed on the pitching lesson from two weeks prior. Then my brain travels back to selfish territory… my girls. It is the same scenario. One is here, do we wake her? She is still in counseling from the PTSD of the night the coroner delivered the news of her brother. My other girl is in the same scenario as 2017 as well, in Macon, GA. Do we call now or wait until morning? Who can be with her? Our hearts tugged and broke all night. The questioning seeps in as well. Really God, the same family? Again?
Next I can recall, we are walking in the door in MO and as much as my heart wants to cry out and stop the world to hug on Ryan’s parents, I go into this mode of… what about this arrangement and that arrangement and this to do and that to do… My poor SIL’s likely thought I had lost it. I am managing this death like a major work project at which I must excel. Everything will be perfect and as the family wants. So much to do, so many boxes to check, so much training on how to do this. You see those of us that have been here know the steps, the order, the must do’s, the must haves. More than once people said to me, “…wow, I can’t believe you thought of that …” I wish I didn’t know. I am happy that I am helpful, but being helpful delays acknowledging the hurt.
My busy body self kicks in and lots is accomplished in the following days. I have managed to check boxes, accomplish the necessities, listen and sit with the family (most important), and make sure that my welcome is worn out before I head home. That was two weeks ago today.
Today I clicked on a podcast that featured a mother that lost her 3 year old to strep throat and as I am listening. I question myself. Why? Why do I listen to these podcasts? Why do I read the grief books and true stories about child loss? Why do I google the topic and send links to others in my spot? Why do I join FB groups for child loss? Why do I value conversations about our lost children so dearly? Then out of the blue, I think of the Ryan chuckle and declaration “… you only live once and I’m gonna have fun doing it…” Am I living in a dark place and missing the fun? Am I obsessed with sadness and grief? Did I miss Ryan’s message, which by the way, was pretty much word for word what Jack had said. Those two were scarily alike.
Maybe so… maybe I’m missing out. But… I, sounds crazy, find joy in sitting with other parents and hearing about their children. Who they were. What they did. How their journey to heaven went. I want to honor the lost children and walk with their parents through this horrific journey. I want to hug parents and tell them they did it right! You can’t imagine the questioning, guilt, and anger that parents experience in this walk. I want to affirm parents, we did our best. Our kids were wonderful, fun, thoughtful, kind, creative, loved, and valued no matter what journey they took… ADHD journey, suicide journey, substance abuse journey, never having a chance journey- died too young, any journey!!! We are and our kids are Children of God. We were created in his image. He too is a grieving parent so that our kids can dwell with Him forever. Past mistakes, kids or parents, didn’t cause the death and we can celebrate the life and journey they had and we have.
I love Jack Paris. I love Ryan Hall. I love their families, my families, their friends (tattooed, felons, homeless, entrepreneurs, and the list goes on). I may not be able to jump on a motorcycle and ride away my stress, but I can share and appreciate the person that valued that experience. I must cherish every moment and not just exist.
“When you stop just existing and you start truly living, each moment of the day comes alive with wonder and synchronicity.” – Steve Maraboli