About A Boy

Ryan.

You were a spitfire from birth. 

You had us all holding our breath when you'd whirling-dervish your way into a room. 

You had a smile and a head-full of angelic curls that could light up any gloomy day. 

 

You were the first new baby in our family.  The first grandson. My first nephew. A very wanted child. 

 

You and I. We spent many a day together over the first five years of your life. We had park dates and adventures. We played and danced to Bon Jovi. 

And, you grew, both in maturity and stature. You gained a self-control that amazed me. You were a friend to your sister and a helper to your family. You were kind and thoughtful and quiet and unassuming. 

We had you in our lives for 18 years. 

Such a short time for such a loved young man. 

I can't wrap my mind around the truth of it. The truth that you aren't here with us anymore. The truth that I won't hear that "hello" when I call or see you sitting on the couch with that shy grin when I visit. The truth that your newest cousin won't get to meet you this side of heaven. 

Ryan. 

The heartache is raw, and I can't wrap my mind around any of this.  It can't be real, but it is. My heart hurts desperately for your family and for the loss they feel so deeply. May God grant us all such a perfect peace as we grieve, trusting that you are waiting patiently and contentedly until the day we are reunited. That is the hope I cling to as I hold my baby tightly and nurse him back to sleep. 

 

You were and will continue to be loved. 

I miss you, Nephew.