August 18, 1996, the day Ryan was born. September 23, 2017, the day he took his own life. 21 years young but that'll be for a next months post. Today he would have been 30.
The picture above is one of my favorites on him and I. We had purchased a home in a place called Big Bass Lake in Goldsboro, Pa. It sits about 15 miles outside of Scranton. We would take the drive to a town called Jessup and fish the Lackawanna River, back before it was on the radar as a big wild brown trout fishery. The rod he had was one I had Fran Better's build during our time up in the town of Ausable Fork's, in the Adirondacks, which is where Fran's shop was.
Of course Ryan loved his family and friends but there were other things that were close to his heart and mind. He loved to read. He loved math. He loved music and playing his guitar.
For awhile there he loved to go fishing, especially with his brother Sean and me. But I think what he love most of all was learning. He hated school, but loved to learn. He was an exceptionally deep thinker and loved to discuss philospohy, history, and the world outside of this world, which fascinated him.
And while I had 21 years with him, and I do miss him, one of the things I miss the most is the times I didn't have. At 30, he would have been years into his career path, most likely been in a relationship, maybe even married, and possibly even a father. Like for him, it was the unknowns that kept him intrigued and interested. And now knowing where he would have been brings me sadness when I think of him.
And while Ryan would have been 30, my other children are keeping my heart, mind, and time filled with what kids fill your life with. Some of it worry, lots of it love, and always pride as they thrive in their relationships, careers, and milestones.
They say you never stop being a parent, and that is true, no matter where they are.