Ry-Day

I've talked about Ryan off and on over the years here and here and here, usually on his birthday every November when he gets to be the subject of one of my blog posts. Ry has always been fun to have deep talks with, to laugh with, and he's always had a golden heart. He's emotionally wise and able to be vulnerable. Did I mention he's single?

I haven't talked about his struggles; they aren't mine to tell. In retrospect, all I'll say is that for many years he he was perpetually sick and sad. I wasn't sure how it would turn out. I began to lose hope. My deep-down-in tiny belief in him clashed with how difficult it was watching him self destruct. He was still my brother who I cared about, but he didn't care about himself. That's hard to see. 

I believe Al-Anon got my mom out of the way, to begin with. But at the same time, something changed inside him and after many attempts at recovery that didn't stick, finally he made a decision to get well. He kept making that decision daily. Two years, two months later, he's come a LONG WAY on a journey of growth and discovery, of wellness and living in integrity with who he wants to be. I know better than to have any expectations about tomorrow, but today, seeing him like this is real good. I love him no matter what, but truly, what a gift to see him happy and healthy, supported, able to support others. 

What a true gift to see my brother Ryan alive and truly living.

He's wearing one of my dad's classic corduroy visors here. 

Thank God he's in the business of working at a few different golf courses.
They've been open all COVID-long. 

This guy's as goofy as they come. I love laughing with Ry. 

He plays a mean uncle, or Funcle, as the girls call him. Here he bonds with our nephews. Nothing like a trip around the grass in a golf court with S'mores supplies on your lap and the eternal Funcle's, "YES!" in reply to your question.

Happy 46th, blood!