It's hard to believe that a year ago I came home and went to sleep in a bed that Ryan would never sleep in again.  A year.  365 days.  Sometimes it feels like it has been decades, sometimes like Ryan has just stepped into the next room and is just hanging out there for a bit until he comes right back.  

But he's not.  And I'm sad.  Not all the time, and not often in an overwhelming way.  But frequently there is the thought that Ryan should be here, that he would love this getaway with our college friends, that he should be out riding the four-wheeler at the farm like his kids are doing, that he could see through some convoluted situation with clarity.  I miss my husband, and I miss my friend.  So sometimes I stay up til 2 AM watching YouTube videos with heartwrenching movie and tv clips set to emotional songs so I can get the tears out.  Or I'll stuff down the sudden urge to cry when a location or an item pulls up a memory that's now bittersweet.  Or I just won't think about it at all, and let the flow of all the urgent tasks of life pull me in and onward.

Because life finds a way of going on.  I've been to counseling - very helpful, and I highly recommend doing it for pretty much anything anyone might be struggling with, by the way.  The kids are also in counseling, which is helping them work through questions, thoughts, and feelings about their daddy's death.  They are doing well.  We talk about Ryan and things he liked or stories and advice that he told them.  Heaven is on their minds frequently, and they often pray that we have a good day and that Daddy has a good day in Heaven.   

The kids all started dance lessons last October, the girls in ballet and Jackson in modern dance. Elissa and Ember love it, Jackson enjoys it although sometimes he protests mightily against it!  They did the basics of school last year and through the summer - reading and math, spelling and typing and Bible study.  Homeschool ramps back up with all the subjects next week after a nice 2-3 week break. 

I'm still able to stay at home to homeschool and be with the kids.  Between life insurance (get it if you haven't) and survivor benefits from Ryan's social security, I don't have to go to work.  I can pay all the bills and take care of what is needed.   God provided for us through wisdom in 'just in case' financial planning years ago, and in Ryan's hard work that earned the social security benefits.  I'm so thankful.

Because I don't need to move from my house, I'm planning on staying here for the foreseeable future.  The kids and I love our church family, our extended families are each within an easy half-day's drive or less, and we have neighbors and friends both old and new here.  The number of people who knew Ryan and have poured into our lives over the past year has been increased by those who didn't know Ryan yet have still poured into our lives.  I am overwhelmed by the kindness, generosity, and love that has been shown to my family.  Please know that every card, every text, every prayer for us, every meal still being offered and help with special projects and checking out suspected mouse rustlings and loaning of vehicles is not forgotten.  I wrote down each kind act in my notebook since Ryan was diagnosed with leukemia in the hopes of sending thank you notes.  The notes never got written, but the people - you - are so very much appreciated and loved.  Thank you.

This past year has been good, and bad, and happy, and sad.  Sometimes it's been gut-wrenching.  But it's not the same as if Ryan was just... lost, gone, disappeared, or dissipated into absolute nothingness.  The sadness and the questions and the sometimes feeling of purposelessness always eventually wash back up against the truth - that Jesus followers don't grieve for our loved ones like people who don't have a hope beyond this present life (loosely paraphrased from I Thessalonians 4:13).  We have a sure knowledge and confidence of again seeing those who have left before us. I leave you with Ryan's own words that he wrote in letters to his kids a couple months before he died.

"Jesus is the savior of the world. He was the perfect son of God, and he came to earth as a baby to be a sacrifice for our sins. I'm a sinner.  Every human being you know is a sinner. We do not live up to God's perfect standard of righteousness. "For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God" - Romans 3:23. Jesus grew up and lived a sinless life, and gave his life for us as a sacrifice for our sins. His death on the cross takes away our sins forever, justifying us before God, and allowing us to be with him forever. Jesus is alive. And I am alive because Jesus is alive. You are reading this letter with some gravestone somewhere saying I'm buried in the ground, but I am not there. Through Jesus' death and resurrection on the cross, I am alive.