Remembering......Death Equals Life

As Christ followers, Easter has always been a sweet celebration as we recognize the meaning of Christ's death and resurrection. He was the Sacrificial Lamb for us and because of that we have new life in Christ and a hope for our future.  Yet because of life events, it will forever have deeper meaning as our son now lives out the true reason we celebrate Easter.  But this Easter our minds and hearts are seared with a mixture of memories and hope; pain and joy.  We can't help but remember....

 

It was Good Friday, 2012 and I was standing in church worshiping with my family. We stood in a row, Tom, Ryan (20), me, Luke (15) and Amanda (18).   It was odd that Ryan was standing in between Tom and me but I remember the catch in my chest and the tears beginning to pool in my eyes as I felt the joy of that moment; our children standing with us, praising the Lord with exuberance.  As we were praying Ryan put his long arms around Tom and I; another uncommon occurrence but one that I remember taking in as a beautiful moment that would not be forgotten. There was much banter that evening after the service and a real sense of joy in our home; brothers and sister getting along and jovial teasing amongst everyone.  Ryan was usually “on the go” and heading out the door to experience some great adventure, but this night he stayed home.  I stretched out on the couch preparing myself for a family movie and Ryan came barreling down and plopped himself right in front of me laying horizontal; forcing me to have to sit up a bit so I could see over his big frame. I spent the evening watching the movie and playing with his crazy hair.  Again, this was an uncommon occurrence but one that seemed so natural; a mom loving on her boy and a boy seeming to want the comfort of his mom.  That night as we all went to bed there was a sense of peace and contentment.

The next day I was up early preparing my grocery list for Easter dinner; I would be cooking for family and friends.  The day was also going to be filled with dropping Luke at friends for the day and a trip to the mall to find a dress for Amanda for a CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocate) event that she and I were scheduled to speak at in a couple weeks.  I sat at the table making my lists and all of a sudden I received a text from Ryan; he was in the bathroom.  The text said, “How can I pray for you today?”  I chuckled and a few minutes later he came running up the stairs with climbing gear in hand and I smiled at him and said, “Really, you couldn’t just ask me that in person?”  His lips turned into that awesome smile of his and a twinkle formed in his eyes and that’s all that needed to be said.  I asked where he was going and he said, “I’m going climbing.  I need some time to think.”  Ryan had recently been going through a difficult breakup and it had taken a toll.  Ryan and I had had some very heartfelt conversations in the previous weeks over this topic so I knew spending time climbing on “his rocks” would be very therapeutic.  We told each other we loved each other and out the door he went.

The rest of the day was filled with our planned activities and it was about 3:00 p.m. and Amanda and I had exhausted the mall, and each other.  We were headed to the car in silence.   Purchasing dresses for beautiful teenage girls is not an event that usually went well in our home; Mom’s ideas and daughter’s ideas were very different.  Amanda got to the car before me and was listening to her voicemails.  When I got in she was looking at her phone with a confused look on her face.  She hung up and said one of Ryan's friends had left a weird message and I should call him back.  I called him as I pulled out of the parking lot.   When I got through Ryan's friend said Ryan had an accident and he didn’t know any details but I should call another one of his friends  that had more info; another climbing buddy.  I quickly called him and he said he didn’t have any clear details but that the 15 year old boy Ryan had been climbing with, had called his mother and said Ryan had fallen and the rescue teams were on the way.  He gave me the boy's mom’s number and I called that number.  This was all happening while I was driving; yes, that was a bad decision but I was trying to get home to Tom and find out what was happening at the same time.  I reached his mom and she immediately handed the phone to the rescue worker that she was climbing through the brush with to get to Ryan and her son.  The boys had decided to drive miles back on a gravel road and climb through brush and then up the rocks to a “sweet” climbing spot.    The rescue worker couldn’t tell me more than that it was bad and he would call me as soon as he had more details. Ugh!!!!  He said they would send some firemen to pick Tom and me up and bring us to where they were. 

Amanda and I arrived home and I sent Amanda in the house to tell Tom what was going on while I remained in the car, trying to extract more information from the rescue worker.  It still hadn’t dawned on me that this was really serious.  I was imagining some broken bones, some scrapes; I was fairly calm.  I went into the house and we all sat and waited patiently for the fire trucks to pull up.  I made a few calls, text a few people and asked for prayer. I was amazed at how calm we appeared.  I don’t think any of us thought it was going to be that bad because Ryan always got out of his scrapes.  I had actually been known to joke that he was sprinkled with “pixie dust” because he always somehow landed on his feet.  We continued to wait and then finally, after about 15 minutes, we got impatient and called 911 and told them our situation and that we were waiting for an emergency crew to come but no one was coming and could they please find out what was going on; they placed us on hold and then said they would call us back.  We waited, beginning to get irritated.  Tom called again and we were put on hold, again.  After about forty-five minutes I saw a police car come up our street, and then another and another.  I rushed out the door telling Tom to hurry; still thinking we were going to see Ryan. 

I got to the street and my eyes met the first police officer and, I knew.  I knew in that instant that our life had changed forever.  I screamed like I’ve never screamed before and crumpled onto the driveway.  I remember thinking how great it felt to be able to scream without any concern for what people thought.  It is weird how I remember thinking that.  You would think that my mind would be a blur, I’ve read so many accounts of people not remembering things; but I feel like I remember it all.  I sat their crumpled, wailing, with my husband’s arms around me and three or four police officers standing over me.  This is a moment in time that I will never forget and crosses through my mind often.

We left Amanda alone in the house to be there for Luke when he got home.  I can’t imagine what it was like to hear her mom wail at the top of her lungs and then be left behind.  I remember getting into the back seat of the police car with Tom and crying into his shoulder.  I remember stopping almost instantly, as if another personality took over, and I began to call people, text people and communicate how our life just changed. I felt like this communication was my lifeline and my link to sanity.  It was awful hearing their response and the agony I caused them, but I needed to share the pain.  I also had to call the home where Luke was and try and explain the life altering event we were just catapulted into.  I couldn’t speak directly to Luke yet because I couldn’t bare that pain too.  I will forever be grateful to our friends for taking care of this message and I will forever feel pain for not being the ones to do it.  But I had to trust others to take care of my other two children as we drove to see where our baby spent his last moments.   

Tom was a rock as his crazy wife made phone calls, stopped and cried, sent texts, stopped and cried, asked questions of the police, stopped and cried.  It was a long ride up to the wilderness area they had been climbing, probably forty-five minutes to an hour.  As we pulled up we saw rescue workers, fire trucks, an ambulance, and yes, the media was already there. How had they beaten the parents?  This annoyed me.  They rushed us into the ambulance to wait with the young boy and his parents and avoid the media.

I stepped into the ambulance and saw this young boy who witnessed my son’s last breath.  I had never met him. I had no idea what happened, what caused Ryan to fall, but my heart went out to this boy who was Luke’s age.  I couldn’t imagine Luke experiencing this life and death event.  My goal became caring for this young child and making sure he was o.k.  Tom and I only asked the basic questions of what happened because my heart felt any deep probing would wound this young boy more than necessary.  Ryan was gone; making this boy feel guilty by probing him with questions was of no value.  He only knew that Ryan had let him climb down first and after he got to the bottom all of a sudden he heard a thud and there Ryan lay below him.  His friend rushed to him and gave him CPR but Ryan was already gone.   That was it; nothing more.  He was climbing and then he was falling 100 feet.  Ryan’s climbing friends have checked all the equipment and retraced the climber’s steps.  We have found no explanation for why Ryan fell other than, it was God’s timing and He could do more with Ryan’s death than He could with his life.  As strange as it sounds, this brings me peace.  It wasn’t random, it was part of the bigger picture and my son and our response was part of the bigger picture.  I didn’t process this immediately, but in my heart as I sat in that ambulance, I knew Ryan’s death and our response was going have impact on many lives.  

Tom left me alone to my thoughts and went to talk with the emergency crew and gather more details and I waited with the young climber, his parents and another of Ryan's climbing friends that had made his way up there.  His climbing friend was a good friend of the young climber's family and Ryan’s and owned the home Ryan had been semi-living in and another home that Ryan had been helping to remodel.   I knew Ryan had been really caring for this man's heart and had been working on showing him Jesus, so I felt compelled to gather them together and pray; pray for healing that was going to need to come, pray for the rescue workers and pray for strength to get through whatever was ahead.  I remember it all.

Tom came back in and handed me the information from the coroner; a list of funeral homes and other awful information a parent should never have to know about.  At this point I began to feel overwhelmed.  I didn’t even know where any cemeteries were in Colorado Springs.   But just at the point where my heart was feeling overwhelmed, the first of our support team arrived; another of Ryan’s climbing buddies, and the Youth Pastor of our church.  Where did they come from?  How did they know where we were?  How did they know how to get to this remote spot?  It felt like they were dropped from Heaven at just the right time for just the right purpose.  The Youth Pastor took the funeral information from my hand and said, “I’ll take care of this.  You don’t need to worry about it.  This is now my job.”  I wept.  

After I gained my composure we began to chat and share with the new comers what we knew.  These two men had been such a big part of Ryan’s high school life and had been part of the team to help get him through his years of “shenanigans” (that’s what I fondly call them).   I could tell their hearts were ripped.  My strength began to waiver and just at that time some of our closest friends and their son popped their heads into the ambulance.  Again, how did they know where we were?  I wept.  God had sent the army to help hold our swords and fight the battle we found ourselves in; the battle to make sense out of tragedy.

We were told it would be a while before they could bring Ryan down because of the difficult terrain.  We settled in.  One of the rescue workers brought in sandwiches and, I called home.   I spoke to our friend, the mom of where Luke had been and found that they had brought Luke to our home and the troupes were rallying around Luke and Amanda.  Apparently our home was filled with friends that wrapped around our children and each other.  Lists were being made of people to bring meals and people who wanted to be available to help in the upcoming days.  Food had been brought in and the troupes were being fed. At one point someone gathered everyone in Ryan’s room and they had a time of worship and prayer.  I can’t imagine how much that thrilled Ryan to watch.   I honestly don’t have many regrets about how we walked through that time but a pain I will always have is that I could not be in two places at once; waiting to say our goodbyes to our son and being there for Amanda and Luke in their horrible time of tragedy.  But God sent an army in our stead.  I had to trust God and our friends to take care of our children.   I hung up and I wept.  God was already being so faithful.

At some point I needed to go to the bathroom and since we were up in the mountains I needed to be driven down a ways to find a bathroom.  One of the fire fighters offered to take me.  As we were driving I found out that he knew Ryan; he went to our church and had gone on a mission trip with Ryan and his son knew Ryan as well.  He filled our driving time with stories of Ryan and shared ways Ryan had had a big impact on his son’s life.  This was a story I didn’t know. What a blessing; God was faithful. 

The team God sent us on the mountain stayed with us until the very end; after four hours they brought Ryan down the mountain.  They had told us to wait in the ambulance but Tom was not having it.  As soon as Ryan was brought out of the brush, Tom was there.  No Coroner, no rescue worker, no one in authority was going to prevent him from seeing his son.   I was then escorted out of the ambulance and Tom and I were given an opportunity to say goodbye to our baby.  It was so dark and cold and as I stepped up to Ryan the world stopped.  I kissed his precious cold forehead, gently touched the one small wound on his head, inhaled deeply his scent, the scent that we would always know as Ryan but knew would begin to fade, scolded him one more time, told him I would always love him; and then I was done.  I could take nothing more.  Tom gathered me and put me into our friend’s truck and we headed back down that dark cold mountain, away from the place that robbed me of my son.

As we drove down the long, winding mountain road I remember weeping against Tom’s shoulder and then exclaiming, “Dang, dang, dang, dang, dang!”  I wanted so badly to be able to speak worse, but I just couldn’t.  It made me giggle.  It wasn’t a crazy giggle; it was a second of laughter, even in tragedy.  There would be more to come.

            I once again called home and said we were on our way.  We were asked if we wanted everyone to leave before we got there.  I guess I wanted to witness what my kids had been experiencing so we said, “No, they can stay.”  When we pulled into the driveway my strength waivered and I wondered why we hadn’t sent everyone home; but we were home and they were there and we would forge through; probably the first in “doing the difficult”.  I walked into the door and was stunned at the faces staring back.  Every corner of our living room was filled with friends; Luke and Amanda’s friends, our friends, Ryan’s friends.   It was as if I was viewing what was before me in slow motion, looking at each individual in the eye, seeing their pain, their love, their longing.  I didn’t know what to say.  They were looking for answers; we really had none except, he was gone.   I shared the basic details that Ryan had fallen and at that point we didn’t really know why.  That was it; there was nothing more to share.  We hugged everyone and I think I sat down next to Luke.  The Youth Pastor made his way over and asked me in a whisper if I wanted him to have everyone leave.  I decided it was time; we needed to be alone with our kids.  Everyone quickly exited and we were left with Amanda and Luke and the Youth Pastor. At least I think that is all that was there; my memory is a little weak at this point.  The Youth Pastor said he would be back in the morning to work through all the details and we thanked him and watched our Knight in Shining Armor walk out the door.  We hugged our kids, cried with them and shared what we knew, acknowledged that it was real and then we all went our separate ways to bed.  It seems odd now that we didn’t cling to one another longer, but we were exhausted and needed time for the reality to settle in.  That first day was drawing to a close.  Tom and I crawled into bed and wrapped our arms around each other and wept.

            I imagine we fell asleep at some point but then I awoke and could not fall back to sleep.  I crept down to our couch and laid there thinking, pondering, praying, processing.  Scriptures of God’s faithfulness were swimming through my mind; “All things work together for good to those who love God and are called according to His purposes”, “I know the plans I have for you, to prosper you and not harm you…”,  and I was being faced with the reality of what I still believed.  I pulled out my computer and started going through pictures.  There has never been a lack of pictures of Ryan.  His life sat before me on the screen.  And then I knew; I was going to have to journal this road we found ourselves on.  Through my journaling God was going to show himself and I was going to find answers.  I had never been one to journal but I felt deep inside that it wasn’t even an option; I was going to write about how God was going to make it worth the pain.  I was going to choose to trust Him and believe that in that trust He was going to resurrect my broken heart.  It was Easter day. 

 

 

            It is a year later now.  The anniversary of Ryan’s leaving us is actually April 7, but the memories will always be wrapped around Easter.  This first Easter is excruciating.  The pain is deep.  But we are moving through the weekend, purposing to continue to step forward and allow God to wrap his arms around us in the truth of the weekend; death equals life. 

Ryan is experiencing the Life we long for; everlasting life in Paradise.  This is his ending/beginning not because he lived a good life, but because he was a sinner and received Christ as his Savior.  He knew he couldn’t enter heaven on his own merit.  He knew when Christ died on the cross He was dying for him, Ryan.

²¹ For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. Philippians 1:21

⁸ For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— ⁹ not by works, so that no one can boast. Ephesians 2:8-9

“He saved us, not because of the righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He washed away our sins, giving us a new birth and new life through the Holy Spirit. ⁶ He generously poured out the Spirit upon us through Jesus Christ our Savior. Titus 3:5-6

So on this Easter we mourn our son, but celebrate God’s gift to us, Salvation.  And, we celebrate Ryan’s choice that allows him to live eternally with his Savior.  I have made that same choice and know I will see him again, just not yet.