Memories of Ryan

Since hearing yesterday of the drowning death of 14 year old Ryan Barrett, I have struggled to make sense of this tragedy.  Frankly, I have struggled to have a coherent conversation or thought.  This hits very close to home for me, having lost one of my own children.  But I wanted to share with those who might not have had the privilege of knowing Ryan, some of my Ryan memories.

Mary Ellen Barrett was someone that I met online in a Yahoo group about three years ago.  When we realized we lived so close, she invited me over for a mothers’ Rosary night.  My first memory of the Barretts and of that night is of dear Ryan greeting me at the door.  In the dozens of times that I saw Ryan since that night, he never failed to greet me by name (and “Mrs. Giambalvo” is a mouthful) and to give me a big hug.

I had the privilege of driving him to Shakespeare play practice on several occasions.  He had an uncanny knack for directions and helped me as I muddled my way through the relatively unfamiliar roads that connected the Barrett and Gunther homes. 

I will remember his love for his Indiana Jones hat, Laurel and Hardy movies, his guitar, singing, and tree climbing (he gave me quite a fright one time when I found him up a tall tree ). 

Ryan also loved the mass and longed to be a priest one day.  While autism made this unlikely, I can’t help but think that he will be honored as a good and Godly priest in heaven as he makes his way to heaven.