A beautiful story....

To Fiona, my sister and friend.

 
A beautiful story...

The story for you began  22 years ago, 26 November 1992. A story as individual as the son you brought into this world. The hours of labour that marked the beginning of something so wonderful it is indescribable. A story no mother can ever be actually prepared for.

 

 

A beautiful story...

when you delighted in first smiles and breathed in the sweet, clean baby smell as something precious; when you listened even while sleeping; when you experienced love like you never knew before. When you're only half a person and the other half lay sleeping in your arms.

  

A beautiful story...

Where tantrums were common, very common; where melt-downs were typical and life felt like it was no longer yours yet it was so complete;  It was a job with exhausting hours, no pay and no holidays. Yet it is animated, magnificent, heart-stopping even when the storm is raging all around. It is confusing yet awesome and inspiring yet it needs much desperate prayer. A story when Ryan hurt you hurt, when you sat all night nursing him until the feverish delirium passed, and you smiled through the tears the first time he went off to school, the first time he told you he loved you.

 

 A beautiful story...

When it all seemed so hard and muddled, when you cried and ached to do what was right for Ryan while trying to hold onto some piece of your self before you reluctantly let him go into the world that seemed to want to destroy and crush his innocence at the first step. You are only half of the story and you were the very best half you could be. You loved him well, you held your hands open and embraced the mess of life that raising a son can be.

 

A beautiful story... 

Began 22 years ago with a son so beautiful beyond description. The real mothering never really ends it comes in seasons and in the ebb and flow of life; from the messy hands, the sleepless nights, to the tear filled conversations over a broken heart, to the ache of unbearable loss, the real loving is endless.

From baby to boyhood to the threshold of manhood you clasped your arms around him, enveloped him in love and prayed you would never have to let go, that your best would not be extinguished by a cold and indifferent world.

It is not over, loves ties can never be truly broken, all hope can never be altogether lost.
 

A beautiful story forever woven together, you and your precious son Ryan.

 

A beautiful story..... 

Ryan John Girvan 26 November 1992 - 1 August 2014