Karla's Cottage

In the land of heart shaped rocks

We have been doing some traveling.  Yes, I know that in the Time of Corona, that is an iffy thing.  But we have a new RV that allows us to avoid all public restrooms and restaurants, we roll with our own kitchen and bathroom.  All we need to do is pump gas, then park and picnic inside the bubble of our little home on wheels.

This trip was to Wyoming, where the virus hasn’t become a big threat.  We gathered at the spacious lake house we’d gone to before on our big family reunion.  This time, the attendance was much smaller, due to the concerns of the plague hanging over us all.

Honestly, I was  not a fan of the idea.  Shouldn’t we all just stay home, doing our part to stop the spread?

But, my husband and I are dealing with our boy’s death in different ways.  I couldn’t even speak to anyone at all for along time, he wants his people around him, and was especially missing his family.  Whom I also love, and love to spend time with.  It meant a lot to him, he needed his people.

I felt more than a little guilty about indulging ourselves with a vacation/family reunion but knew that this one was about as safe as one could be. 

Buying the new camper made me feel pretty secure. And we questioned everyone we were going to be seeing on their practices. Our family members had all been careful, working at home, shopping at early morning senior hours, staying in, etc.

A couple of weeks ago, we took the RV to North Carolina for the grand fairies to see their daddy, and while NC is far from as virus free as the remote lands of Wyoming, that had gone well and had also been very careful there.

So, I took some of Ryan’s ashes from the urn Ed Noonen had gifted us with and carefully packed some in the “to go vase” he had also made.    Actually, the small vase was a separate gift, not exactly meant to be a traveling ash container, but it seemed ideal for that purpose.  I have mentioned that Ry wasn’t fond of getting out and seeing the world.  But when we last vacationed in Casper, he rode along and had a great time.

We had pulled a camper then too.  Not because the lake house was too crowded, it sleeps DOZENS, but to provide a private place for him to retreat to if needed. We practically forced him to come and used the fact that it was his grandma’s 85th birthday to guilt him into it.

And we were so glad we did.  He joined in, laughed with everyone, took long walks in the hills with me, helped in the kitchen, and even placed pretty high in the ping pong tournament.  It was such a pleasure to remember him there with us, that we wanted to spread some of his remains in a spot that had been special to us.

This might sound odd, and might also mean that I am totally losing it, but carefully tending to the ashes, and wrapping them up to take along reminded me of taking care of him as a baby.  Geez, why did I even tell you that?  I do sound crazy.  And grief will do that to you.  Maybe I felt like I was doing something for him like I used to when he was just little?

Sugarwings and Dewdrop went hiking with their cousins and all of the girls brought back heart shaped rocks for me.

I do not remember seeing any at all when we were there three years ago. But on this visit? They were abundant.

The largest rock is next to his urn now.  The teeniest is wrapped up in a note to him, inside the urn.

When I came across the smaller, almost perfect heart, I knew it would be an ideal bodice along with the larger hearts as wings and skirt, to form an angel for my boy.

There is twisty, weathered wood all around too.  I picked up pieces to make a frame around his angel. Then took the ashes out to it, and let Sugarwings sprinkle them over it all. 

While I hadn’t thought I needed this trip, like my husband did, I found out that I certainly had. Staying in a unique spot that was full of happy memories and being able to create this angel for Ryan with stones found by the girls was good for me.

As was spending time with two of the dearest sister-in-laws anyone could have.  Both of them offered their own big hearts to me when I sobbed.  

My husband says the time was healing for him. 

 I can’t say that for myself.  Right now, I don’t see any possibility of ever healing.

But I can say that when people who care about me were there to listen to me talk about our loss, and to show their love,  I knew that I had not lost everything.  It is good to feel their love, when I needed it so badly.  

I know that with this virus ramping up and raging through our world, not everyone has the luxury of buying an RV to go be near family.  Although our son is dead, I still feel blessed for what we do have.  And my heart goes out to those who suffer through the loss of the ones they love completely alone due to the isolation we are all going through.

A look back, it is good to have a blog to keep as a diary

I was looking through past blog posts to see if I could find photos of Ryan that I didn't have in files.  Here are some stories that I discovered in my archives.

I hope Ryan knew how much pride I had in him.    I can't believe that when he was little, I used to think that I would be taking care of him all of his life, but he turned that around and became the person who took care of me.  There wasn't a single day with him that he didn't try to do something for me, big or little.  But the caring and the effort was always there. Thank you, Ryan, for always being there for me.

Here is a post from January 2012.  (Yes, he needed a haircut, but he was still pretty dang cute)

 

My oldest son had a birthday this week. I realized that I rarely get photos of him, so when the family took him out to celebrate at his favorite restaurant, I made sure to bring my camera. 

He always chooses this Japanese steak house on his birthday for Sugarwings because he knows she has so much fun there. 

He's a loving uncle, a handsome guy, a hard worker, a sweet man, and I'm proud to have his as a son.

He has a strong work ethic and has been working 2 part time jobs for years, but just recently went full time at one of them.

He goes to the gym almost everyday,  takes care of himself, saved up for and bought his own car, does his own laundry, and is a good cook. 

He lost about 100 pounds and has kept it off for years and years.

Ryan has never had it easy.  He has to try a lot harder than other people, but he never gives up. He has excelled in his life and when I tell people that my son works full time at a convenience store, I say it with a big glob of pride, every bit as much pride as the mother of a gifted student who becomes a rocket scientist would have.

Probably more pride because I know how he has struggled to get so far. 

When customers are rude to him and tell him to hurry, I wonder if they realize how hurtful that is?  That they are being cruel to someone who always tries his hardest and has accomplished more than anyone ever thought he would?

They don't see past the surface.

I think people see his blue eyes, handsome face, and 6 pack abs, and don't even realize that he has learning difficulties.  They might see how shy and quiet he is and not realize that he has a speech problem, they will just think he isn't friendly, or has little to say.  He has also been called stoned or drunk when people hear his speech or see that he is slow at times when trying to do something.

Ryan has been taken advantage of by some bad people in the past. Low lifes who used his sweet nature against him, so now he lives with us, in an apartment we built over my studio.  Its important for him to have his independence, but also to be near family. 

But we are lucky to have him here.  He helps around the kitchen, mows our acreage, carries in groceries, and never, ever leaves a room without saying "I love you".  And that is usually accompanied by me getting a kiss on the top of my head.

Is my family as perfect as it looks on the surface? Oh heavens no.

When you look past the surface you see something better than perfection. 

You can see what caring, love, and strength built by adversity and a determination to make it all work better than it should, can do for a circle of people who need each other in their lives.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

And here is a post from July 2015, when we took the entire family to Florida and Ryan surprised me by saying he would go to Disney too:

 Ry Guy said he wanted to come to the park too. Now, he has been a bit of a recluse for the last 10-15 years.  He doesn't like crowds, and doesn't get out much. He is a big, ole, sweetheart, but has a lot of anxieties.  I was worried about him coming on the trip at all, let alone spend time at the park with the hoards of people. I promised him his very own room, so he could retreat if needed.

And you know what?  He didn't need to hide.   Ryan gets the Happy Camper Award for best vacationer. He was amazing, and I saw a side of him that I didn't know he had.  I could tell that at times, it was not easy for him, but he made himself stick it all out, even when he had the option of going back to the hotel to get away from the heat and the people.

 He stayed with me, knowing I was tired, and hadn't got much rest, and was there for me all day when I needed him. And when hotel rooms needed to be changed around, he stepped up and offered to share. I was proud of my son, and how he left his comfort zone behind when he joined the family on this vacation.

My oldest son had a birthday this week. I realized that I rarely get photos of him, so when the family took him out to celebrate at his favorite restaurant, I made sure to bring my camera. 

He always chooses this Japanese steak house on his birthday for Sugarwings because he knows she has so much fun there. 

He's a loving uncle, a handsome guy, a hard worker, a sweet man, and I'm proud to have his as a son.

He has a strong work ethic and has been working 2 part time jobs for years, but just recently went full time at one of them.

He goes to the gym almost everyday,  takes care of himself, saved up for and bought his own car, does his own laundry, and is a good cook. 

He lost about 100 pounds and has kept it off for years and years.

Ryan has never had it easy.  He has to try a lot harder than other people, but he never gives up. He has excelled in his life and when I tell people that my son works full time at a convenience store, I say it with a big glob of pride, every bit as much pride as the mother of a gifted student who becomes a rocket scientist would have.

Probably more pride because I know how he has struggled to get so far. 

When customers are rude to him and tell him to hurry, I wonder if they realize how hurtful that is?  That they are being cruel to someone who always tries his hardest and has accomplished more than anyone ever thought he would?

They don't see past the surface.

I think people see his blue eyes, handsome face, and 6 pack abs, and don't even realize that he has learning difficulties.  They might see how shy and quiet he is and not realize that he has a speech problem, they will just think he isn't friendly, or has little to say.  He has also been called stoned or drunk when people hear his speech or see that he is slow at times when trying to do something.

Ryan has been taken advantage of by some bad people in the past. Low lifes who used his sweet nature against him, so now he lives with us, in an apartment we built over my studio.  Its important for him to have his independence, but also to be near family. 

But we are lucky to have him here.  He helps around the kitchen, mows our acreage, carries in groceries, and never, ever leaves a room without saying "I love you".  And that is usually accompanied by me getting a kiss on the top of my head.

Is my family as perfect as it looks on the surface? Oh heavens no.

When you look past the surface you see something better than perfection. 

You can see what caring, love, and strength built by adversity and a determination to make it all work better than it should, can do for a circle of people who need each other in their lives.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

And here is a post from July 2015, when we took the entire family to Florida and Ryan surprised me by saying he would go to Disney too:

 Ry Guy said he wanted to come to the park too. Now, he has been a bit of a recluse for the last 10-15 years.  He doesn't like crowds, and doesn't get out much. He is a big, ole, sweetheart, but has a lot of anxieties.  I was worried about him coming on the trip at all, let alone spend time at the park with the hoards of people. I promised him his very own room, so he could retreat if needed.

And you know what?  He didn't need to hide.   Ryan gets the Happy Camper Award for best vacationer. He was amazing, and I saw a side of him that I didn't know he had.  I could tell that at times, it was not easy for him, but he made himself stick it all out, even when he had the option of going back to the hotel to get away from the heat and the people.

 He stayed with me, knowing I was tired, and hadn't got much rest, and was there for me all day when I needed him. And when hotel rooms needed to be changed around, he stepped up and offered to share. I was proud of my son, and how he left his comfort zone behind when he joined the family on this vacation.

My oldest son had a birthday this week. I realized that I rarely get photos of him, so when the family took him out to celebrate at his favorite restaurant, I made sure to bring my camera. 

He always chooses this Japanese steak house on his birthday for Sugarwings because he knows she has so much fun there. 

He's a loving uncle, a handsome guy, a hard worker, a sweet man, and I'm proud to have his as a son.

He has a strong work ethic and has been working 2 part time jobs for years, but just recently went full time at one of them.

He goes to the gym almost everyday,  takes care of himself, saved up for and bought his own car, does his own laundry, and is a good cook. 

He lost about 100 pounds and has kept it off for years and years.

Ryan has never had it easy.  He has to try a lot harder than other people, but he never gives up. He has excelled in his life and when I tell people that my son works full time at a convenience store, I say it with a big glob of pride, every bit as much pride as the mother of a gifted student who becomes a rocket scientist would have.

Probably more pride because I know how he has struggled to get so far. 

When customers are rude to him and tell him to hurry, I wonder if they realize how hurtful that is?  That they are being cruel to someone who always tries his hardest and has accomplished more than anyone ever thought he would?

They don't see past the surface.

I think people see his blue eyes, handsome face, and 6 pack abs, and don't even realize that he has learning difficulties.  They might see how shy and quiet he is and not realize that he has a speech problem, they will just think he isn't friendly, or has little to say.  He has also been called stoned or drunk when people hear his speech or see that he is slow at times when trying to do something.

Ryan has been taken advantage of by some bad people in the past. Low lifes who used his sweet nature against him, so now he lives with us, in an apartment we built over my studio.  Its important for him to have his independence, but also to be near family. 

But we are lucky to have him here.  He helps around the kitchen, mows our acreage, carries in groceries, and never, ever leaves a room without saying "I love you".  And that is usually accompanied by me getting a kiss on the top of my head.

Is my family as perfect as it looks on the surface? Oh heavens no.

When you look past the surface you see something better than perfection. 

You can see what caring, love, and strength built by adversity and a determination to make it all work better than it should, can do for a circle of people who need each other in their lives.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

And here is a post from July 2015, when we took the entire family to Florida and Ryan surprised me by saying he would go to Disney too:

 Ry Guy said he wanted to come to the park too. Now, he has been a bit of a recluse for the last 10-15 years.  He doesn't like crowds, and doesn't get out much. He is a big, ole, sweetheart, but has a lot of anxieties.  I was worried about him coming on the trip at all, let alone spend time at the park with the hoards of people. I promised him his very own room, so he could retreat if needed.

And you know what?  He didn't need to hide.   Ryan gets the Happy Camper Award for best vacationer. He was amazing, and I saw a side of him that I didn't know he had.  I could tell that at times, it was not easy for him, but he made himself stick it all out, even when he had the option of going back to the hotel to get away from the heat and the people.

 He stayed with me, knowing I was tired, and hadn't got much rest, and was there for me all day when I needed him. And when hotel rooms needed to be changed around, he stepped up and offered to share. I was proud of my son, and how he left his comfort zone behind when he joined the family on this vacation.

Notes to my son

We had sprinkled ashes around the farm on trees given as memorials, by the wind chimes Ryan had hung, and by flowers he had planted.  We want to take some to Wyoming and Florida also.  Ry was not a traveler and we couldn’t get him to go with us on trips, except for two to those spots.

He came along on our big family vacation to Siesta Key, and to the giant family trip to Casper in honor of Grandma Joan’s 80th birthday.  Both times, he tried to back out, but we were insistent.

We did our best to make him comfortable, in Florida we rented a large enough condo for him to have his own suite so he could have solitude when needed.

(He never knew that we almost Home Aloned him, my husband and I both drove away to pick up other family members to take to the airport, each thinking the other had Ryan!)

For the lake house birthday party, where relatives from all over the country gathered to share a large home that slept about 40, we knew that would overwhelm his sensory disorder. To help, we hauled a camper with us so he could have his own house away from the commotion when he needed quiet.

Both times, he surprised himself by having a blast. He loved family time and joined in on games and excursions, even one to Disney.  We were so glad that we had practically forced him to come along, and I will treasure that time with him forever.
Some of his ashes will be sprinkled in each place.

He was always my power washing buddy too, so next time I get that machine out, I want to shoot some ash across the drive way with the spray.  

I know, slightly odd, but he would have thought it was cool. 

His ashes hadn’t been delivered yet when I had the washer out recently, so I wrote his name with it for now.

More of the remains will be made into blown glass.  But most have been placed in this hand made urn.

A sweet friend from my book club invited me to the ceramic studio behind her home to pick out an urn crafted by her husband, Ed McCormick.  He does beautiful work and I was overwhelmed by his generosity.

They had sat out creamy and soft colored, elegant vases that would have matched my home perfectly.

But when I saw this one, I burst into tears, knowing that the floral-ish looking skulls around it were ideal for my boy.  He always liked to doodle skulls, some with top hats, some with roses.  I came across a few when I cleaned out his apartment.

The urn now sits next to a shadow box frame with Ryan’s portrait and his favorite matchbox car from childhood in it.  

I had planned on putting the angel I had made from Sugarwings’  “fairy building kit to go” in his room, but I like it here instead.  It is by a hydrangea dried from an arrangement sent to us.

When I think of something that I need to tell him, I write it down and put it in the urn.  Along with the notes, I added a silver skull ring that he liked to wear.

Ryan and I had what people might think were the most boring of conversations.  He and I told each other about the little things that happened during our days, interesting or not.  

So some of my notes might just be about cleaning out the fridge.  

But I know that he liked hearing about what I had been doing, no matter what it was.

It is rare to have someone in your life who never thinks you are monotonous when you ramble on about dull things.  Someone who actually wants to hear them. 

  
Other times, I write to him about how much I miss him, memories I had of him growing up, or something funny one of the dogs did.

The notes usually have a blurry spot or two where the ink was splashed with a tear.  But somehow, it does feel good to write my thoughts down and place in his jar.

Thank you Ed and Mellisa.

 

 

 

Notes to my son

We had sprinkled ashes around the farm on trees given as memorials, by the wind chimes Ryan had hung, and by flowers he had planted.  We want to take some to Wyoming and Florida also.  Ry was not a traveler and we couldn’t get him to go with us on trips, except for two to those spots.

He came along on our big family vacation to Siesta Key, and to the giant family trip to Casper in honor of Grandma Joan’s 80th birthday.  Both times, he tried to back out, but we were insistent.

We did our best to make him comfortable, in Florida we rented a large enough condo for him to have his own suite so he could have solitude when needed.

(He never knew that we almost Home Aloned him, my husband and I both drove away to pick up other family members to take to the airport, each thinking the other had Ryan!)

For the lake house birthday party, where relatives from all over the country gathered to share a large home that slept about 40, we knew that would overwhelm his sensory disorder. To help, we hauled a camper with us so he could have his own house away from the commotion when he needed quiet.

Both times, he surprised himself by having a blast. He loved family time and joined in on games and excursions, even one to Disney.  We were so glad that we had practically forced him to come along, and I will treasure that time with him forever.
Some of his ashes will be sprinkled in each place.

He was always my power washing buddy too, so next time I get that machine out, I want to shoot some ash across the drive way with the spray.  

I know, slightly odd, but he would have thought it was cool. 

His ashes hadn’t been delivered yet when I had the washer out recently, so I wrote his name with it for now.

More of the remains will be made into blown glass.  But most have been placed in this hand made urn.

A sweet friend from my book club invited me to the ceramic studio behind her home to pick out an urn crafted by her husband, Ed McCormick.  He does beautiful work and I was overwhelmed by his generosity.

They had sat out creamy and soft colored, elegant vases that would have matched my home perfectly.

But when I saw this one, I burst into tears, knowing that the floral-ish looking skulls around it were ideal for my boy.  He always liked to doodle skulls, some with top hats, some with roses.  I came across a few when I cleaned out his apartment.

The urn now sits next to a shadow box frame with Ryan’s portrait and his favorite matchbox car from childhood in it.  

I had planned on putting the angel I had made from Sugarwings’  “fairy building kit to go” in his room, but I like it here instead.  It is by a hydrangea dried from an arrangement sent to us.

When I think of something that I need to tell him, I write it down and put it in the urn.  Along with the notes, I added a silver skull ring that he liked to wear.

Ryan and I had what people might think were the most boring of conversations.  He and I told each other about the little things that happened during our days, interesting or not.  

So some of my notes might just be about cleaning out the fridge.  

But I know that he liked hearing about what I had been doing, no matter what it was.

It is rare to have someone in your life who never thinks you are monotonous when you ramble on about dull things.  Someone who actually wants to hear them. 

  
Other times, I write to him about how much I miss him, memories I had of him growing up, or something funny one of the dogs did.

The notes usually have a blurry spot or two where the ink was splashed with a tear.  But somehow, it does feel good to write my thoughts down and place in his jar.

Thank you Ed and Mellisa.

 

 

 

Big memories, but a small memorial

We had an ancient oak on our property, just over the creek.  My husband would snuggle under it with his little grand fairies and tell them family stories.  He wanted to share memories of people who had passed and places they had come from. 

They always called it the “Grandfather Tree”.

When it was lost to a storm, we had it turned into a dining table, big enough to seat our whole family without pulling in extra tables for more space.  When we were together, we were a total of 11, and I’d joked it was a Nathans’ Dozen, kinda like a bakers’ Dozen wasn’t exactly twelve either.

When Ryan died, his Indiana cousins sent a tiny oak for us to plant.  I don’t know if they knew about the Grandfather Tree, or if it was just luck that the gift they sent was also an oak.  But when Sugarwings saw the type of tree, she suggested we call it “The Uncle Tree”.  She used a wood burning tool to write that on a sign her daddy made from some cedar planks we had.

We planted the little tree, and most of the remaining Nathan Dozen sprinkled some ashes on it, while saying something about Ry Guy.  I had confetti to throw too.  He would have thought that was funny.  

He was always laughing with me.

As I was gathering up the wrappings the oak had come in, I almost threw away a small, silver plaque that said “The Cousin Tree” that had been sent along with it.  We added that to Sugarwings’ sign.

The oak is near our gazebo, filled with the wind chimes we received and the ones Ryan had hung there.  

On the other side of the gazebo is a weeping redbud that was sent by the Guncles, and a vintage rose bush sent by a friend.

Rich and I like to turn on a sprinkler that waters them in an arc around us, while the hens play in the spray and the breeze makes the chimes sing to us.  On the hottest days, this is a cool, shady place to sit with a glass of wine in the evening, holding Dorothy (Ryan’s favorite dog) on my lap.  

Ry and I had a habit of watching a tv show together every night after dinner, and this has taken the place of tv watching for that hour.  It is comforting.  

Sometimes, I sit there and embroider. 

The roses Ryan had planted for me were in full bloom the day we planted the Uncle Tree, so we placed some ashes around the rose bush too, and on the iris bulbs he had planted. Although the rest of the iris around the farm were done, there was one last flower in the patch.

Because of the Corona Virus, there was no funeral.

There was no hustle bustle of running to the airport to gather up family members and hugs from far away.  

Ryan was a quiet guy who didn’t care for crowds.  With his sensory disorder, crowded places were physically hard for him to be in.  But he was also a loving soul who enjoyed his one on one conversations when he was in a group.  

I feel bad that he did not get a big goodbye, but he is one of many who could not have the funeral they should’ve. We have lost over 100,000 people, plus the ones like my boy, who died, not from the virus itself, but from what I feel is Covid related circumstances.

Maybe our small gathering due to social distancing was just what Ryan would have preferred.   And while I missed being able to have a funeral, I felt as if I had gotten hugs from afar with all of the cards, letters, flowers, and gifts that caring people had sent.  

I treasured each and every kind message, comment, and thought. I am rereading notes, drying flowers, and saving empty vases to mosaic on.  We are tending bushes and trees sent in his memory and listening to the melody of the wind in the chimes. Each and every compassionate item that came to us helped, and was appreciated.

Thank you all for caring. 

And Ryan, thank you for being my friend, walking buddy, caretaker, horror movie watching companion, helper, and my little boy.  

I will always miss my baby.

 

 

The comforting sound of wind chimes

Ryan was helpful around the yard.  At first, I thought he was just trying to make things easier for me.

It would start with him keeping me company as I worked on something, and before I knew it, he had taken the shovel away to do the job himself.

Over the years, it progressed to him asking if I had a job for him on his day off.

I think he had come to enjoy gardening.  Or maybe he just knew that I loved it and he loved me, so wanted to help.

He built this entire sidewalk for me, one shovel full of gravel at a time.  As the rocks settled over time, twice, he took the truck to the  garden center, to buy more stone, and surprised me by touching up the balding spots.

The deep, dark pink rose bush is one that he bought for Mother’s Day two years ago.  He surprised me after planting it.

Lately, with my husband retired and Ryan working long hours at the nursing home, we got a lot of jobs done daily while he was at work.

Ry was always interested in seeing what we’d done, and would walk around the yard, complimenting the progress.  He told me that he liked to stand on his deck and look out over the yard and enjoy How pretty it looked.

I mentioned that the only thing we needed to complete the redo was some wind chimes or a fountain.

On Mother’s Day, he brought me these beauties, and he moved them from one end of the yard to the other, looking for the best spot to catch the most breeze.

The day he died, Rich and I spent much of our day in the gazebo, listening to the chimes.  The weather was ideal, there was a slight breeze making the soothing sounds pretty much continuous.  

Since then, caring loved ones have sent us some more sets to hang in the gazebo.  

We added some to a nearby branch, also.

Each has its own, soft set of notes that are slightly lighter  than the deep tones from Ryan’s gift.  The dogs run through the gazebo, wagging tails that make the chimes sing when there isn’t a breeze to to the job.

We spend time out there together, holding hands, drinking coffee in the morning or wine in the evening, listening, and thinking about our boy.