Say His Name

A family member said to me once: “We’re all walking on eggshells around you. It’s like you’re mad all the time and you said you didn’t want to talk to anyone so no one knows what to say or do so we’re just leaving you alone...” She said it at the end of a 4-day visit that came 6 months after Ryan died. She said it when, in frustration for not 1 (of 5) family members mentioning Ryan once during the visit, I finally yelled: “He didn’t disappear, he DIED!”

Yes, it was true that I said I can’t talk about it. I said I couldn’t talk about it 48 hours after he died when I hadn’t changed pants or underwear or eaten in 2 days. Because 9 days before he died I almost bought the lace, knee-length, beach-appropriate wedding dress I’d already picked out for Thailand. Nine days before, I told him for the very first time what I wanted to name our daughter and he agreed that it was beautiful. Somehow, after that, I’m now making funeral arrangements.

I know you don’t know what to do, but did you think I know what to do? 

I apologize, but I missed the class when they lectured on "What to Do for Yourself (and Others Too, Obviously) When Your World Crumbles"

So when I said I didn’t want to talk to anyone, it was because I had enough things that needed my immediate attention. At the top of my list was Take Care of Ryan. I drove to the ME’s office early in the morning that first day, because, while they had told me they would have Honor Guard standing watch, I didn’t believe they would so late at night and in my mind, I wasn’t going to leave him alone. Nothing superseded that.

Second in line was driving back and forth from my MIL’s hotel or the funeral home to make sure the dogs were let out to potty regularly. Feeding two dogs and a cat that I was now the only one around to care for them. I knew I could not relinquish that responsibility. I had no energy left to think or make a decision when asked “I’ll fly down but it’s up to you”. All that sounded like was “Can I be one more thing on your plate to coordinate, make decisions on, know schedules for…”

Irrational thoughts, perhaps, but everyone and everything else fell to the bottom of the list of things to do. The only thing on the top of my list was Take Care of Ryan. Make sure everything is appropriate for the funeral. Looking back I was fortunate to be in very significant shock. I did not think about him being dead. My only job that week and the next was managing a funeral (as strange as it may seem that death and planning a funeral can be disconnected from each other) and caring for my MIL…writing an eulogy that told everyone that didn't already know what am amazing person Ryan was. Finally, making sure I showered, brushed my teeth, are wore the little black dress he bought me and his favorite lipstick for the service Friday night.

Michelle Steinke, founder of One Fit Widow, blew me away with her list that essentially began and ended with “Say His Name”.

I have to say, the #sorryitmakesyouuncomfortablebutitsreallynotaboutyou is what caught my attention and gave me a REALLY deep, cleansing laugh. That Facebook post is linked above and copied below:

She posted the same day that I wrote “Suicide Changes You” so really all of those points stuck out at me: Don’t expect they will EVER be the same, Don’t stop saying their loved one’s name, RUN TO THEM, Don’t ignore them thinking they need their space.

It is cathartic to share my memories of Ryan and to hear others share.  I still want to hear more things about him. I want to know he’s remembered. I want to laugh at stories I never knew but that perfectly portray his ridiculous personality. If you didn't know him, please ask me about him.

The most important thing that you can do for me, with no expiration date, is to join me in sharing Ryan.