Greg is a friend of mine and a customer. His son's name was Ryan. He was 17. Ryan was an excellent road cyclist and a specialist mountain bike downhill rider. He worked at a fine bike shopp up the street, Jack's Cycle and Fitness here in Dearborn.
On Friday Ryan accidentally rode his motorcycle into the side of a passenger car at "over 100 m.p.h." and was not able to survive.
Yesterday morning Greg, his father, my friend, stopped in the store when we opened.
I spent about 40 minutes speaking with Greg. He asked a lot of questions about losing somebody sice I am apparently an authority of some type on dealing with the loss of friends. I've lost a number of them to accidents.
What did I tell Greg about his son's death? The two of them did road rides together, went on cycling trips together, they had an exceptional and rare father/son relationship- the kind you saw depicted on TV shows like "Leave it to Beaver" or "Mayberry R.F.D."
I told Greg that losses like that never heal, but scar over. I told him nature abhores a void and that other things flow in, over time, to fill the terrible wound left open by this loss. I told him that right now is about surviving- making it to the next sunrise. He told me he didn't want to see the sun come up the day after his son died- that he wanted it to remain night as though that would somehow prevent the reality from becoming....... real.
I told him to live from day to day only and try to survive. I told him that gradually, over a long perod of time, hope for a new life slowly and often somewhat awkwardly does begin to return. I told him that new people fill your life and your heart and that sometimes one or two of them may actually begin to heal the awful wound left on a broken heart.
I told him that few people in the grand scheme of things ever have the opportunity to share a relationship with another person like that, and I reminded him that he has a fine daughter and wife and that those things are enormous accomplishments. I said he should use his family as a mattress to rest on while he tries to recover, and to remember that they will need that same mattress from him too.
When you try to speak to someone about their son being killed unexpectedly in an accident, or dying in Iraq, or on a bike ride, you try to speak honestly, gently and carefully from the heart. You try to be realistic but encouraging. You try to brace them for the long and difficult nights spent alone when the reality settles so heavily on you.
I wasn't entirely sure what to say, but I did the best I could.
Ryan was a great kid and fine young man- very good bike rider. Fun guy. Greg is the same.
Obviously, my sympathy for Greg and his family, and I'm sorry to pass on the news of another young bike rider lost. Offer a quick prayer or wish for Greg during this tough time for him and his family.
Tom Demerly
The Tri Shop.com
On Friday Ryan accidentally rode his motorcycle into the side of a passenger car at "over 100 m.p.h." and was not able to survive.
Yesterday morning Greg, his father, my friend, stopped in the store when we opened.
I spent about 40 minutes speaking with Greg. He asked a lot of questions about losing somebody sice I am apparently an authority of some type on dealing with the loss of friends. I've lost a number of them to accidents.
What did I tell Greg about his son's death? The two of them did road rides together, went on cycling trips together, they had an exceptional and rare father/son relationship- the kind you saw depicted on TV shows like "Leave it to Beaver" or "Mayberry R.F.D."
I told Greg that losses like that never heal, but scar over. I told him nature abhores a void and that other things flow in, over time, to fill the terrible wound left open by this loss. I told him that right now is about surviving- making it to the next sunrise. He told me he didn't want to see the sun come up the day after his son died- that he wanted it to remain night as though that would somehow prevent the reality from becoming....... real.
I told him to live from day to day only and try to survive. I told him that gradually, over a long perod of time, hope for a new life slowly and often somewhat awkwardly does begin to return. I told him that new people fill your life and your heart and that sometimes one or two of them may actually begin to heal the awful wound left on a broken heart.
I told him that few people in the grand scheme of things ever have the opportunity to share a relationship with another person like that, and I reminded him that he has a fine daughter and wife and that those things are enormous accomplishments. I said he should use his family as a mattress to rest on while he tries to recover, and to remember that they will need that same mattress from him too.
When you try to speak to someone about their son being killed unexpectedly in an accident, or dying in Iraq, or on a bike ride, you try to speak honestly, gently and carefully from the heart. You try to be realistic but encouraging. You try to brace them for the long and difficult nights spent alone when the reality settles so heavily on you.
I wasn't entirely sure what to say, but I did the best I could.
Ryan was a great kid and fine young man- very good bike rider. Fun guy. Greg is the same.
Obviously, my sympathy for Greg and his family, and I'm sorry to pass on the news of another young bike rider lost. Offer a quick prayer or wish for Greg during this tough time for him and his family.
Tom Demerly
The Tri Shop.com