Goodbye, Ramsey

I can’t believe this time has come, where I must sit down and try and cobble together my thoughts, feelings and memories about my son, my first born son and the person who held the largest space in my heart. It’s a group I never wanted to be a part of, the group who’ve had to watch a child die. I’m heartbroken beyond belief.

I know every parent thinks this, but in Ramsey’s case it was true: He was the kindest and brightest spirit who has ever graced this world. I was lucky enough to be able to stay home and raise him the first few years of his life, and those moments where we would sit alone in an empty house, while I fed him, or he wiggled around on the floor, “buffing the wood,” as I liked to call it, are the fondest memories of my life.

His unabashed joy at the simplest pleasures, which we as adults are so quick forget: a balloon, a ball, going for a stroll, spraying himself with the hose when helping me wash my truck, or going for a drive and listening to Fats Domino or the Beach Boys, were joys never lost on him. He loved everyone, and everyone loved him back. It was impossible to know him and not be deeply touched, as if he was just there to make you feel love, deep and true, and to remind you how trivial most of our problems are.

His life was not easy, more hours in a hospital room than anyone should have to spend, let alone someone his age, but he took it all with grace and would even comfort me or his mother in moments where I felt like I was going to wither up and die. There would be hoses and wires everywhere, and he’d reach over and put his hand on my leg and give a smile and a look that said, “I’m all right, you’re all right, we’ll all be all right,” but I’m not all right, because that comfort and joy has left us and left a gaping hole in my heart.

I will carry on, as I must, but I will miss him beyond words. He was the best in all of us, robbed of the ability to take a walk, run, or just say in words all the love and joy that emanated from his big beautiful brown eyes. I see him everywhere and in everything, and I probably always will. He’s still teaching me things right now. Ramsey—a.k.a. Bubba, Scam, Ram Jam, Penguin, Buzz, Buster and so many other nicknames that only a truly loved person could have—I love you with all my heart and treasure the time you gave us.

—Dad