I am an Ultra-Conservative, Alpha-Male, True Authentic Leader, Type "C" Personality, who is very active in my community; whether it is donating time, clothes or money for Project Concern or going to Common Council meetings and voicing my opinions. As a blogger, I intend to provide a different viewpoint "The way I see it!" on various world, national and local issues with a few helpful tips & tidbits sprinkled in.
Today my son Ryan Dean would have been 4 years old.
“To outlive one's children is a curse of the gods.”
– Old Chinese proverb
In life, I know there must be death. I can accept that.
People expect to lose grandparents and eventually parents to old age or sickness.
When someone old is suffering, we say they had a good life and now need to go to a better place.
When your spouse dies, you are a widow.
When a child of whatever age is left behind when both parents die, you are an orphan.
But there is no word to describe the greatest loss of all: the death of your child.
There is no word to describe when your child dies! None.
I know I am not alone when it comes to feeling this pain. It is a fact of life, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck or hurt any less.
I am very grateful for my daughter Ria and understand that in some ways it was a trade off. If my son were still here, I would not have my daughter Ria. We planned on having more kids, but most likely would not have had another child so close in age.
I think of my son daily and the pain has diminished somewhat, but the rawness is still the same.
Ria looks up at Ryan’s picture and knows that that is baby Ryan, her big brother. At the age of two and a half, she knows that he is in heaven watching her. My eyes gush with tears when she asks me, “When are we or Ryan going to visit!” I try to explain as best as I can that we will not be going to visit him in heaven for a while and when we go to the cemetery where Ryan is sleeping we are whole as a family. I tell her that Ryan is always watching over us and he is always with us. She then asks me, “Did you hurt something?” since she doesn’t understand that heartache causes tears just as easy as a booboo.
I will leave you with a poem I wrote about my son Ryan Dean. Faith brings the only real HOPE.
Fly into the sky
Fly, fly high into the sky
Fly so high that I hope to touch you
Fly to see you one last time
Fly, fly for I know nothing
Fly so I can understand why
Fly to be with you
Fly, fly my pain must die
Fly so high that I can float with wings and clouds
Fly to be free
Fly, fly high into heaven
Fly so I know why
Fly to be whole again
Fly, fly for I just gotta know
Fly so high that my tears dry away
Fly to be alive
Fly, fly my love knows no bounds
Fly so I can find a way
Fly to bring you back with me