First Fathers Day
"Many of Horror" by Biffy Clyro
“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.”—Kahlil Gibran
The days leading up to our first Mothers Day were worrisome to me. Watching what my wife had already endured up until this point, it was just impossible to imagine her having to go through this day. Seeing all of the other posts of mothers with their happy, healthy, smiling children. Wondering what our posts would have been like with Graham and Savannah. Wondering when and if we will ever get to make those posts holding our babies...
The day came and with all the strength I could muster and with the help of amazing family and friends we got through it. My wife once again persevered and showed that although down, our family is far from out.
Fathers Day was also in the back of my mind, but never was it a concern. I felt prepared. I felt ready.
And I was horribly wrong.
The first realization that I might be in trouble came when Fathers Day acknowledgements were being made and I was continuously being left out. Certainly not on purpose, but it didnt matter. I was completely unprepared for how bad it hurt. Like a scab being ripped off an old wound, the pain was raw and real all over again.
Once again, family and friends were amazing and their love and support propped me up through the beginning of the weekend. Surrounded by all of this made me feel strong, reminded me that I am a father to two beautiful angels named Graham and Savannah.
Everything was going to be ok. And it was.
Until it wasnt.
Sunday morning I woke up and I felt it. I felt the weight of their nursery right next to our bedroom. A door that has been shut all but for one moment since our babies passed away. The empty cribs seemed like anchors weighing on my heart, sinking me deeper and deeper into despair. The pictures we hung on the wall - a wall that my wife had designed and created with her bare hands - were no longer images of joy but indescribable sorrow.
The cries that did not wake me up that morning were louder than ever.
I got up and I went to the gym. My one day off I usually like to not go in but I was moving almost as if someone else was controlling my body. I really had no idea why I was going in. I had no idea what I was going to do. I had no idea what I would say to people. All of the sudden the idea of idle chatter seemed repulsive to me.
I should turn back I thought.
But I didnt.
I went in and worked out and it felt good. It felt good to snatch a barbell. To climb a rope. To do some sit ups.
There ya go Ryan. Everything is ok. Back to "normal".
I got in the car and Spotify kicked on and the same playlist I had created while in the hospital with my wife, Graham and Savannah started playing. And almost instantly a knot started building inside my throat.
Uh oh.
About half way home tears started falling. I immediately rolled up the windows and said a silent "Thank God" for having gotten my windows tinted.
I tried to plan how this would go. I would cry in my car in the driveway. Get it all out. And then go inside and be ok. Kiss my wife and play with the dogs. Make a protein shake. And then casually inform my wife that just a few minutes ago I was hysterically crying in the car in the driveway.
Great plan Ryan.
Only it didnt quite go that way.
I walked in the door and immediately broke down. I cried so hard. Harder than I have since being in the hospital. Since literally watching my wife and my children fight for their lives. Since literally watching my children lose that fight. Since holding them in my arms.
Everything just came rushing in like a tidal wave.
I will never hold them in my arms again. Its not fair. I am so angry and hurt and I dont know what to do. How could this be real? Please just wake me up from this nightmare please I dont want to do this anymore.
But its not just a nightmare. There is no escaping it. It will not ever just "go away".
Texting with my sister who lost her husband exactly one year ago, she made a painfully accurate observation. She said that once she made it through all of the "firsts" and made it to the one year mark it felt as though she deserved SOMETHING, ANYTHING better than just more sadness... but alas that is all that was waiting for her. No prizes, no awards, nothing... just more of the same. And thats when she realized this is just a vicious cycle that doesn't improve, but repeats itself day after day after day...
Fathers Day isn't about me being a father. It isn't about me at all. Its about Graham and Savannah. Its all about them and honoring their life. I am not special but my wife and I gave birth to two special souls. I only ask that people acknowledge them. Acknowledge the fact that their heart was beating and they moved and they kicked their mommy inside her tummy and they are supposed to be HERE WITH US right now. And the fact that they are not here is not right... its not fair....
I realized on this first of many Fathers Days to come that as long as I live I will never be able to fully celebrate this day. Any celebration will always be tempered with sadness and a longing for my children who aren't here. Until Graham and Savannah can run into my arms so I can wrap them up inside of me and tell them I love them and I am so proud and so happy to be their daddy... until then, it will never feel complete.
Some day my angels... some day I will see you again. Mommy and Daddy love you more than words could express. Time will pass but we PROMISE you that love will never ever ever fade but only grow stronger and stronger...
... as will your memory. On Fathers Day and every other day... I promise.
“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.”—Kahlil Gibran
The days leading up to our first Mothers Day were worrisome to me. Watching what my wife had already endured up until this point, it was just impossible to imagine her having to go through this day. Seeing all of the other posts of mothers with their happy, healthy, smiling children. Wondering what our posts would have been like with Graham and Savannah. Wondering when and if we will ever get to make those posts holding our babies...
The day came and with all the strength I could muster and with the help of amazing family and friends we got through it. My wife once again persevered and showed that although down, our family is far from out.
Fathers Day was also in the back of my mind, but never was it a concern. I felt prepared. I felt ready.
And I was horribly wrong.
The first realization that I might be in trouble came when Fathers Day acknowledgements were being made and I was continuously being left out. Certainly not on purpose, but it didnt matter. I was completely unprepared for how bad it hurt. Like a scab being ripped off an old wound, the pain was raw and real all over again.
Once again, family and friends were amazing and their love and support propped me up through the beginning of the weekend. Surrounded by all of this made me feel strong, reminded me that I am a father to two beautiful angels named Graham and Savannah.
Everything was going to be ok. And it was.
Until it wasnt.
Sunday morning I woke up and I felt it. I felt the weight of their nursery right next to our bedroom. A door that has been shut all but for one moment since our babies passed away. The empty cribs seemed like anchors weighing on my heart, sinking me deeper and deeper into despair. The pictures we hung on the wall - a wall that my wife had designed and created with her bare hands - were no longer images of joy but indescribable sorrow.
The cries that did not wake me up that morning were louder than ever.
I got up and I went to the gym. My one day off I usually like to not go in but I was moving almost as if someone else was controlling my body. I really had no idea why I was going in. I had no idea what I was going to do. I had no idea what I would say to people. All of the sudden the idea of idle chatter seemed repulsive to me.
I should turn back I thought.
But I didnt.
I went in and worked out and it felt good. It felt good to snatch a barbell. To climb a rope. To do some sit ups.
There ya go Ryan. Everything is ok. Back to "normal".
I got in the car and Spotify kicked on and the same playlist I had created while in the hospital with my wife, Graham and Savannah started playing. And almost instantly a knot started building inside my throat.
Uh oh.
About half way home tears started falling. I immediately rolled up the windows and said a silent "Thank God" for having gotten my windows tinted.
I tried to plan how this would go. I would cry in my car in the driveway. Get it all out. And then go inside and be ok. Kiss my wife and play with the dogs. Make a protein shake. And then casually inform my wife that just a few minutes ago I was hysterically crying in the car in the driveway.
Great plan Ryan.
Only it didnt quite go that way.
I walked in the door and immediately broke down. I cried so hard. Harder than I have since being in the hospital. Since literally watching my wife and my children fight for their lives. Since literally watching my children lose that fight. Since holding them in my arms.
Everything just came rushing in like a tidal wave.
I will never hold them in my arms again. Its not fair. I am so angry and hurt and I dont know what to do. How could this be real? Please just wake me up from this nightmare please I dont want to do this anymore.
But its not just a nightmare. There is no escaping it. It will not ever just "go away".
Texting with my sister who lost her husband exactly one year ago, she made a painfully accurate observation. She said that once she made it through all of the "firsts" and made it to the one year mark it felt as though she deserved SOMETHING, ANYTHING better than just more sadness... but alas that is all that was waiting for her. No prizes, no awards, nothing... just more of the same. And thats when she realized this is just a vicious cycle that doesn't improve, but repeats itself day after day after day...
Fathers Day isn't about me being a father. It isn't about me at all. Its about Graham and Savannah. Its all about them and honoring their life. I am not special but my wife and I gave birth to two special souls. I only ask that people acknowledge them. Acknowledge the fact that their heart was beating and they moved and they kicked their mommy inside her tummy and they are supposed to be HERE WITH US right now. And the fact that they are not here is not right... its not fair....
I realized on this first of many Fathers Days to come that as long as I live I will never be able to fully celebrate this day. Any celebration will always be tempered with sadness and a longing for my children who aren't here. Until Graham and Savannah can run into my arms so I can wrap them up inside of me and tell them I love them and I am so proud and so happy to be their daddy... until then, it will never feel complete.
Some day my angels... some day I will see you again. Mommy and Daddy love you more than words could express. Time will pass but we PROMISE you that love will never ever ever fade but only grow stronger and stronger...
... as will your memory. On Fathers Day and every other day... I promise.
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