Three Months

**Before you read this post, I just want to warn you it is a very raw, honest post of all the things I was feeling and all the things I remember from the last 30 hours of Ryan's life. I am writing this more for myself that for those who read my blog.**

It has now been three months since Ryan left this earth. Three months since he began a new life in heaven. Three months since my journey through grief began. Some days it seems like it has been a lot longer than that, it seems like it has been years since I have seen him and talked with him. Other days, I wake up and forget that I am not going to see him that day.

I have been working on a project this week to honor Ryan's memory along with his parents and mine. It has brought to the forefront of my mind vivid memories of his last days on this earth -- especially the last 30 hours of his life.

• I remember the phone call so early Thursday morning (6/5) telling me to get to the hospital -- NOW!
• I remember walking into his hospital room at about 2:00 am with everyone just staring at me, no one talking, everyone just staring -- seeing the crash cart outside his room.
• I remember calling friends and family, waking them up in the middle of the night, to ask them to pray.
• I remember trying to get some sleep after being awake most of the night and just feeling lost.
• I remember coming back to the hospital at 10 am and knowing, feeling that something wasn't right.
• I remember the hugs from nurses and RT's and our social worker because things were not looking good; I remember the tears in many of their eyes.
• I remember Ryan telling me he was tired, he just wanted to be sedated so he could sleep and knowing that meant he would be placed on hold.
• I remember being positive that the new antibiotics would be working in full force by Monday and Ryan would be able to be re-listed.
• I remember feeling like I was in a fog, a bad dream that had to end.
• I remember feeling so helpless -- I just wanted to do something, anything to change things.
• I remember going for a walk and talking to Val on the phone -- crying over the possibility that might future might be about to drastically change, but not really thinking it would.
• I remember the call from Ryan's dad telling me it would be best for me to get back to the room quickly.
• I remember the resident, nurse, and RT talking about different options, knowing that those were last resort options.
• I remember the resident pulling me into the hallway and telling me I had to decide what life saving measures I wanted to be put in place.
• I remember having Dr. Ojo called because I had no idea, no idea what to do.
• I remember her saying it was time to let him go, that we could make him comfortable.
• I remember how the staff there did everything they could to make it just a little bit easier.
• I remember seeing Julie (R.N.) walk through the doors so that she could be Ryan's nurse one last time, even though she wasn't on duty.
• I remember calling friends and family once again to ask them to pray -- a much different prayer this time.
• I remember filling out the forms for Gift of Life and knowing that would be what Ryan wanted.
• I remember each of the times Ryan woke up to tell me he loved me, to talk to me, to smile at me, to give me a hug, to ask for an ice chip, to tell me he was tired and ready to go.
• I remember having to take down all of the cards and pictures on the wall of his room.
• I remember our family and friends driving all night to be with me, with us.
• I remember standing around Ryan's bed with his family and mine as we prepared to let him go.
• I remember the tears on the faces of everyone I saw, including the hospital staff.
• I remember knowing that I would fall to the floor if it weren't for my parents standing behind me and pressing me into Ryan's bed.
• I remember every one's words to Ryan, encouraging him to go and be with Jesus.
• I remember telling Ryan that he was a wonderful husband and daddy.
• I remember him opening his eyes and looking at me.
• I remember the doctor saying, "Time of death, 6:08 am."

I could go on and on with each minute of June 6, 2008. It is weird to be able to remember what it felt like being in that fog, that numb shock. I wish that I could go back to that fog, because it was so much easier. Ryan's death was not real to me then, but it is now.

I can honestly say that the only thing that has gotten me to today is my faith in God and his abundant gifts to me. I do not know what I would do without all the wonderful people he has placed in my life: Lily and Wyatt, my parents, my family, my friends, my church. He has brought things into my life that have given me new purpose: substitute teaching, working with KidZone at church. I would feel so overwhelmed if it weren't for the employers he provided for Ryan, especially Derek, who have helped me more than I would ever have imagined.

There is one gift in particular I appreciate above all else from this time in my life (starting back on March 23), it is the gift of a closer relationship with God himself. It is very true that God did not answer my prayer in the way I would have chosen. (One day when I get to heaven I will find out the greater purpose of God's answer to my prayer and the prayer of so many others.) That being said, God has drawn me to him in ways I have never experienced before. I have learned to "pray without ceasing". I have learned to cry out to him. I have learned to storm his throne room. I have learned to believe that his ways are not my ways, but in the end they will be better ways. I have learned that he loves me and will continue to provide for me and comfort me. I have learned that God is good, all the time!