Sayonara 2009. Like my friend Jill said last night, "even years are much better for me." Ain't that the truth?

And a new decade at that - just in the nick of time. Looking forward to creating some new skate memories in the Methow this upcoming week and skating my brains off. Stoked.

It's hard not to hold onto things. Hard to let go of notions of what's right in this world - things that are often ingrained in you as a kid. That happiness means having a corporate job, having 2.5 kids, getting a house with a mortgage and acquiring the hoards of things you can by having money. But when you get down to it - do any of those things guarantee happiness?

Does holding onto Ryan's clothing produce happiness? No. It just makes it harder to let it go. I know that by giving away his clothing it won't bring him back. Keeping his clothing won't bring him back either. His memories will remain tucked in my heart for the rest of my life.


More on these thoughts later...

Seasons and emotions changing

This morning between weight sets at the gym, I couldn't help but let my mind wander and think about how my grief has progressed. What used to trigger deep sadness and utter loss - a lyric, a smell, a remembrance, is now processed a little easier in my head. Sure the sadness is still there and without a doubt I miss Ryan immensely - but the intensity of his sudden death has now lessened in its harshness. My trigger points aren't as sharp and are not as easily pulled. I can sleep alone in my bed without crying myself to sleep every night.

It's amazing to me this transformation happened - though surely not overnight. It's been a long process from the get go and I also recognize I could become a tearful puddle without a moment's notice. Yet I'm learning to accept this new reality and in some way recognize how much strength and perseverance it's taken to get to this point.

Life never prepares you for its uncertainties. All you can do is make the most of each day, as though its your last and live it with no regrets. I knew right away that being angry about Ryan's death would not benefit me in any way - so I avoided it. And now I can look back on the last year or so and know that my healing was productive and true to my spirit.

So as we approach the shorter days and the longer nights, the colder weather and ski season, I'm a little more prepared for what lies ahead and creating new memories. Holidays shouldn't be as dreaded, but looked as an opportunity to make new traditions. I know, without a doubt, I'll think about Ryan and his endless spirit for adventure and fun while making turns in the powder this winter. So if you hear me hooping and hollering like a mad woman down the hill, please realize I'm doing so for the two of us.

Another one

I've been dreaming a lot of Ryan lately. He's been a visitor so far - mainly in the back ground, but unmistakably there.

Until last night. We were walking around, what I think was Edmonds park. Our arms around one another, walking north. I put my head on his shoulder and got this overwhelming feeling of betrayal - as though I hadn't thought of him in that way in a while. And I told him how sorry I was - thinking how unfair I had been. He didn't say a word but also didn't seem upset. He was just there, holding my head and spirits in tact.

It's been well over a year and there are times when I can't believe that he's gone. Time is starting to pass far too quickly and my quick flashes of how things used to be are fewer and fewer. It's part of the process, I know. But I'm also thankful for every single dream he visits me in, especially one where I can lay my head on his shoulder.

Dreams

I almost had a dream about Ryan last night, the first one in quite some time.

My dream was based around my childhood home in Eugene, Oregon. I was grown up and we had a bunch of family members around. It was as though we were trying to accomplish something together but had a really difficult time coordinating everyone together. I cooked an omelet, thinking it would be okay to leave, came back a few minutes later and someone had eaten it all! One thing is for sure - you don't come between me and my chow so I was pissed. I remember looking at my brother with accusatory eyes and storming out of the room. All I could think to myself was why couldn't these people cut me a break? Didn't they realize that Ryan had died and I'm still hurting? So what do they do but eat my food?

Kind of funny in that I take someone eating my creation as a serious insult when I was the one who got up and walked away.

I remember feeling like Ryan was following me though in my dream. I woke up shortly thereafter confused and pissed someone had eaten my food.

September

A new month and a new year.

This past Monday we celebrated your passing. A handful of friends and your mom made the hike up to the base of Prime Rib and commemorated you. We scattered some of your ashes and thought about what amazing person you are.

The deep pain that encompassed the week has lessened and I can breath and sleep normally again. I know your absence will always lay heavy on my heart but it feels like I've gotten a little closer to acceptance of you being gone. It happened organically and I'm thankful for it.

So what does the next little bit have in store? Still finding my way and figuring that out. But I feel like I've taken some steps forward in my grieving process.

At times I feel like I've lost my connection to this world. My link, my fortress has been disrupted and now I find myself questioning my decisions and think about what I think what others think far too much. I look around Ryan's work area - where he spent a far amount of his time at home and I can't help but feel a big empty place in my heart and in my home.

Picking up the pieces after his tragic accident has taken a while. There were some low moments, some deep depression and panic feelings of not being able to come out the other side. I still feel them just not as frequently as they used to come.

I've also learned how to escape them - to seek refuge in cycling and other activities. But I still can come full circle and bawl my eyes out with the best of them and mourn how much of my life is gone and just memories.

I'm starting to feel a tinge of anger coming on. How could he be so selfish? But then the moment I utter such words, I quickly ban them from my consciousness. How can I be mad at someone for following their passion? People get hit by walking off the corner of a street - so his exit out of this world was at least doing something he loved.

Wow. A full year has come and gone. It seems so long yet so short at the same time. He was loved, that's for sure. And I know he knew that.