The children are huddled together under the covers, their eyes intent held by their mothers expressive face. In the soft light of the bedside lamp, their mother becomes so much more than a parent...she is an adventure, a journey, a giant tree beside a beautiful garden; and then she says the worst thing ever imaginable, "And that's all for tonight." Amidst gasps, groans, pouting faces and sweet begging, the story has reached that point of cessation. However, that is where we as children learn to expect that there is more to come. It was as children we learned that "happily ever after," was not the end of the whole story, just a point where "we stop for now." Then we lay awake all night and ponder, "What color was the horse as it rode off into the sunset?" "How many children did Cinderella have?" "How long does the prince have to wear those weird tights, until he's a king?"
As adults, we know that the turning of a page brings the end of a chapter; not necessarily the end of the story. A chapter in the life of Ryan Hess ended 5/17/10, but I know that the his story continues to be written. His legacy is being carried on in the lives of his wife and children, the innumerable impressions left behind in countless associations with classmates, strangers, friends, employers, peers, and patients. There is an eternal nature to "the soul," and I know my friend continues forward; we miss you dearly Ryan.
A wise sentiment shared by Dory goes, "Just keep swimming, swimming, etc." I can't imagine existing until the next breath, forcing myself to open my eyes the next morning, summoning the strength to roll over and throw off the covers, and try not to look at that empty space in the bed where someone should never have left...and then getting up because there are two kids that need their one-remaining parent to tell them that everything is going to be alright today...because that's what Daddy would want. I know I have a terrible attitude right now, but I recognize that I do not yet have the strength required to be alright inside myself to reassure someone else if I had suffered as greatly and deeply. It is in sincere admiration that I look at Margie recognize her strength, love, passion, endurance, and incredible attitude. I could only imagine what she must be feeling...and yet the way that Ryan and Margie fought, loved, acted, and lived in the last several months is amazing. Thank you for your strength and love of each other.
Ryan's death has inspired me and taught me the way in which I should live out the rest of mine. I pray to not see my "horizon" in the distance...but I know what I want to accomplish and impress upon the lives of my children every day I have them as a part of my life. I want them to know I love them. I want to hold them as gently as I can for a moment longer than before. I want my son to understand how proud of him I am, and wonderful it is to be his father. I want my daughter to kiss me one more time, to hear those sweet words spoken by a toddler, "Wuv you Dadty." I want there to be less screaming, and more laughing. Less hitting, and more hugging. More together and less separate or individual time. I want my kids to watch me shave or brush my teeth and really act like me brushing my teeth is the most incredible thing they are seeing at that moment. I want one more moment with my wonderful wife. One more chance. One more dinner. One more night. One more kiss. One more embrace. I want that extra kiss as I leave for work. I want that foot to touch my foot as I drift into another dream. I want to hear those respirations from her body as she stretches just before she relaxes and cuddles with me in the mornings. I want that one extra smile as she looks back at me as she drives the van away. I will always want one more before I it's over.
Life is full of experiences. Some you cherish. Some you hold on to. Some you move past. Other's you regret and learn from. As we experience life; day in and day out, hopefully I continue to learn what really matters, and what doesn't. Will I hand my boy the crayon and tell him to draw on the wall? Certainly not. I will; however, pause and make a memory, a moment if you will, that a Father and Son will remember forever as the beginning of an idea that maybe an art class should be considered in the future. :-) I love my family, and I hope that every single day, my wife and kids feel that my love was expressed a little more than the day before.
Thanks again Ryan.
http://teamryanhess.blogspot.com/
PERVERCIONES #154 [Gold edition]
8 years ago
