Raining on the Inside

I don't feel like I can go back to blogging about the trivial moments in life until I remove the elephant from the room:

Last week my brother died.

Those words seem so harsh written in black and white and I'm having a difficult time believing it even though I was there.  God really blessed us with some miracles and gifts that really made His presence known to us during that time.  I know I will cherish them for the rest of my life.  Maybe sometime later I'll be able to share those moments.

Since Thursday, the day of the memorial service, I've had an old Amy Grant song running through my head:

I'm raining on the inside

My heart wells up with tears that start to pour

I'm raining on the inside

But then Your cries of love break through

And I fall in love with You once more

It perfectly describes the way I feel right now.  I may look alright on the outside, but my heart is broken and crying on the inside.  Only time and the comfort of my Father will get me through this.

I'll leave you with the tribute I wrote for my brother's memorial service:

The little things that you never gave a second thought are the ones that you find you'll miss the most.

Phone calls with Ryan always started out the same regardless of who called, "You're ugly and your momma dresses you funny", which was always followed by "Well, that's just too bad for you since we look alike". The sight of anything monkey related, Legos, Barnes and Nobles, and sarcastic sayings on t-shirts will never be the same again.

How do you write something about your brother? How are words ever going to be enough to capture even a small portion of how much love a sister can have for her older brother? Did we always get along? Most certainly not. We went through rough patches growing up; to this day I can't stand the feeling of anything touching my neck and I have no one to thank but my older brother, but no matter how angry, annoyed or irritated we were with each other we were always there for each other. I remember Ryan defending me against neighborhood kids, summers spent in wading pools, riding bicycles, making chalk highways on the sidewalks for our matchbox cars and countless hours digging through the Lego bin to find that one perfect piece to finish my Lego house only to have Ryan bomb it with the jet he just completed.

It wasn't until Ryan started college and I was in high school that Ryan and I developed a deep respect for each other and started actually liking each other. Sorry Mom, we were never destined to hold hands and skip to school like Laura and Mary in Little House on the Prairie. But I have so many fond memories of going to the movies, the mall, hanging out in his room talking about life, dreams or how to torment Rudy. There were many conversations on the last topic.

I'm going to miss him. Who else is deserving enough to help me make fun of Rudy? Who is going to respond to my picture e-mails and point out the R-rated movies on eye level with Aric, or ask if I guillotined the dog because both kids were crying in the photos? It wouldn't be the same coming from anyone else, but it always made me laugh coming from Ryan. Even now I still find myself getting up to tell him something funny only to realize that he's not here anymore.

Ryan was amazingly smart, incredibly strong, and hilariously funny. If you never got the chance to meet him or know him then I feel sorry for you. He would've enriched your life and made you laugh. Those who knew him will never forget him.

Ryan, I hope you're having a blast in heaven and smiling down on us. Kiss my babies, tell them I love them and we'll be looking for your sand castles in the sky. In the meantime I'll do my best to teach Aric and Kellyn about their Uncle Ryan as we build "kick-ass" Lego creations. (Though, they'll never be as good as yours.)

I love you. Always.

-Regan

PS- I'm really sorry about that one moment in the hospital. You know the one when Rudy and I realized we were both holding your hands in too much of a Little House on the Prairie moment. I'm sure Mom would be ecstatic, but I hope you can forgive us.