It Only Hurts When I'm Breathing

You might have noticed that this was up the other day and gone soon after.  I took this post down because of misunderstandings, feeling like I couldn't truly share what was on my heart.  Frankly, my blog isn't just about photos and funny stories about my kids.  Sometimes my vulnerabilities and pain will come through and that's how I want it.  I want to be real and truthful.  I don't have a journal, THIS is my journal. 

I didn't grieve for my brother when I should have and after burying my brother I'm walking around with my emotions on my sleeve.  I'll work through them and not keep them so close to the surface, but right now for awhile they will spill over sometimes. 

I thought this post was forever lost because I didn't save it.  After some searching, I relocated it.  It just goes to show that nothing is truly gone from the Internet.

Dear Ryan

What to say... everything and nothing. It's been seven months today. (I hate the 9th, by the way, but I would hate any day it happened on.) Seven months and I miss you terribly, my heart is broken and I can't put the pieces back together. I'm not sure they'll ever go back together fully.  I was talking with Mom about how life is different now and won't ever be the same again.  We agreed that it just means you really meant something to all of us and we wouldn't want it any other way

We just came back this week from a trip to visit Dad, Mom, and Uncle Rudy "Unca Grudy" (as Aric likes to call him). It was good to get away, good to see all of them and good to talk about you. Don't worry it was all good, nothing bad.

The hardest part of the trip was that we buried you. Dad and Mom picked a wonderful place in a forest. It was beautiful and peaceful and I really think you would've like it. It was hard that day. Walking up the path to the spot they picked for you, I wanted to grab your ashes and run back to the house and put them back on the shelf. It was hard to let go of the last tangible part of you. It was intimate and simple just as you would've wanted. Afterwards we toasted you, reminisced and went out to dinner where Unca Grudy proceeded to teach Aric that it is perfectly okay to throw peanut shells at people at the dinner table.

The kids have your picnic table now. They love it.  Thanks for giving that to them.  I think they'll enjoy it as much as you and I did.  Last night I set it up behind the couch.  I had to relocate it after I discovered Kellyn had climbed on top of the table onto the back of the sofa and was stuck.  You would've laughed.

We also have your Legos.  Someday when the kids are old enough to play with them we'll sort through the bin and make all sorts of amazing things and talk about their Uncle Ryan.  I wish they could have grown up knowing you instead of knowing about you.

Dad and Mom gave me a gnome.  It was supposed to be my Elf on a Shelf, but I think it's just going to be my Gnome in our Home.  Because of you, we all have gnomes.  I guess you were correct in declaring they were invading, because they sure seem to be invading our homes.

I miss you more than you know.  I hope you knew how much you are loved.  Kiss my babies, tell them I love them and keep building those sandcastles in the clouds.