Sunday, June 19, 2011

Happy Anniversary

Yesterday marked the sixth anniversary of the happist day of my life.  Love you, Ry.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Ryan's Wife

I miss being Ryan’s wife.  I miss the attention he would shower on me, the compliments and the adoration.  A memory showed itself today as I was running down the parkway that allowed me to reminisce on what a safe and wonderful place being Ryan’s wife truly was.  I remembered running down the same parkway in early September when Ryan unexpectedly pulled up in the PT Cruiser with Blotter and Brady, all three of their heads hanging out the window, one looking sillier than the next.  “Hey Sexy, jog here often?” was his opening line.  After a little more sass, his true intentions were shown.  Turns out, instead of cooking the delicious and healthy meal I had expected, he had decided we should go out for dinner.  Of course, this idea sounded fabulous to me.   So what if it was a Tuesday, I had to work early the next morning and oh, weren’t we supposed to be saving money?  He was too cute to resist, driving my car and hanging out with the dogs.  After I agreed, he waved goodbye and watched as I ran ahead.  Slowly, he pulled up beside me yet again.  “What is it this time?” I asked with mock exasperation.  “Damn you look good!  How’d I get such a hot wife?” was his reply. 
I miss being Ryan’s wife.  I miss the confidence that his love presented.  Today I also thought back to the many times in Jamaica when he would stay on the beach to play dominos with a local while I’d go back to the room to shower and change for dinner.  Regardless of who he’d be playing, upon my arrival, I’d always be greeted with a similar response:  “Hey ‘mon, THAT’S your wife?” in which Ryan would reply, “Yeah, told you she was good looking…”
He loved me, he adored me and I miss him.  I miss being Ryan’s wife.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Marley Ryan

She looks just like Ryan.  I stare down on her sleeping face and I see my husband.  She is proof that he existed, he was here, and he made a difference.
Marley Ryan Davis was born May 7, 2011 at 2:35 pm.  She weighed 6 pounds, 5 ounces, was 20 inches long and came out holding her breath,  blue as the ocean.  After a few seconds of coaxing, she locked eyes with me and took her first breath.  When the doctor placed her on my chest, she continued to gaze into my eyes with a look that said, “I know Mama, I love him too”.
Now a month has gone by, five weeks to be exact.  Marley weighs 9 pounds, 10 ounces, is 22 inches long and has no problem using her lungs to full capacity.  Her eyes are deep blue and give the sense that behind them lays an old soul, one filled with knowledge, experience and mischief.
She smiles in her sleep and I can’t help imagining it’s because her daddy is visiting her dreams, whispering in her ear everything that he’s not here to teach her.  “Take care of your mom.  Smile and she’ll give you anything you want.”  “Don’t let him kiss you, he drinks out of the toilet.”  “Don’t cry.”  “Walk good.”
Marley and I are a team.  Neither of us knows what we’re doing, but we’re in this together and will figure it out one day at a time.  Ryan was supposed to be the good parent, the one with the patients and the one with the answers.  It was always my understanding that dads knew everything.  Because he is gone, it is now my job to supply the answers to the questions I know and make up the ones that I don’t.  This baby would have had the greatest father in the world, but won’t ever meet him.   The last thing I’m concerned with is spoiling her.  She wants to be held all day so I hold her.  She wants to sleep on my chest so I let her.  I will give her what she needs always; will be there to comfort, to hold and to listen.  Marley doesn’t have her daddy, but she does have my love and my memories.  I plan on showing her the world and teaching her everything I know while at the same time, sharing stories of her father. 
“Winter, spring, summer or fall, all you’ve got to do is call and I’ll be there, yes I will.”  -Carol King