Friday 18 January 2013

For Ryan: A girl in a meadow

I've written many stories about my life and the people I'm closest to.

I promised her years ago that I'd write 'our' story because she wanted me to write something that was happy and not just the cynical tales from my teenage years. Over the years I've tried many times to write about Ryan and could never find the right 'angle'. But, I guess some stories can't be written until the chapter comes to a close.

And as sad as it is, my heart and gratitude are with her husband Ben who helped wrap up our girl's story with all the love and support she deserved.

Enjoy!


A Girl in a Meadow
Ryan and I first met by design.

It was sophomore year and we were both in Berkeley college. All I knew of her was that she was the ‘over eager’ girl who lived upstairs and was also in the Glee Club. She had her friends, the happy perky people who enjoyed things like 'Pride and Prejudice' and were prone to theatrical displays like spinning and giggling for no reason. I hung out with a slightly more cynical crowd that looked upon the Glee Club’s glee as something to be tolerated because it facilitated crazy fun parties and free booze.

It wasn’t until December of that year that I got the destined ‘tap’ by Josh McNeil that I should think about running for social chair. ‘Really? Okay. If you think so,’ was all I could say because Josh was a senior and the coolest person on the planet.

‘Well, who’s going to be my co-social chair?’ I asked.

‘Her,’ Josh pointed across Hendrie Hall at the ‘girl with the loud annoying laugh standing next to the other girl with REALLY loud annoying laugh’.

‘Oh, ok.’ I said.
Unbeknownst to me Alegia Mercer-Falkoff, the matron of ‘Ryan’s crowd’ had already had the same discussion with her.

On winter tour I finally plopped down next to her on the bus and like a nervous teenager I stammered, ‘So, I was thinking of running for social chair. Do you want to run with me?’

‘That'd be great! I was thinking the same thing,’ smile, bounce, smile, shrewd narrowing of the eyes.

In that moment I saw something beneath the veneer of enthusiasm. She was wary of me. She’d agreed to team up but was not at all convinced it would work. I had assumed that she’d love the idea and would steam roll ahead with a list of things that she would be ‘super excited’ to do. But, surprisingly, she sat back and waited. She measured me up and watched to see what I would do, what my standards were.

Below the bubbly happy Ryan, there was a private Ryan. A Ryan that, if you took the time to look, was much deeper and discerning than just a silly happy girl that many people took her for.

She enjoyed being behind the scenes making sure everyone was having a good time. And our friendship grew in the quiet moments in between when we would take a breather. ‘First rule of throwing a good party: A good host always has at least one glass of wine before the first guest arrives.’

We formed our own little emo-twosome, playing competitions of who’d had it worst. But, unlike me, she wore her exhaustion for only a moment because she wanted to spread joy and taught me how to share mine. She wouldn’t let me wallow. Happiness for her came from seeing her friends happy and laughing. It sustained her. So, we breathed, took stock, refilled the chip bowl and hustled back out to the party to witness the joy we were helping create.

Ryan was smart. She was free with her love and joy, but the people she let in beyond the atrium of her happiness were privileged. And when you got the backstage pass it was a whole other level of amazing. And I had to work for it. Over the years, I learned to read her looks and shrugs, her happy tones from her disapproving but happy tones. She had high standards of loyalty and love and made them known through deeds, not words or empty gestures.

There were times I let her down and I knew it without her saying. Ryan never complained, but I knew instinctively what she would have done had she been in my shoes. And through her example of friendship I became better.

I remember, mid-way through our junior year after we’d had a few months of social-chairing under our belts I said to Ryan, ‘So, I’ve decided that I want to be a better friend. I know I haven’t been as reliable as I could be. I figure, I’m smart enough already. And there’s not enough time at school to be a straight-A student AND a really good friend. So, I’m trying harder.’

She just smiled and said, ‘Yeah, I noticed. *cue Ryan laugh* And I’m really proud of you, Doodles.’

She was honest with her praise. So honest, that you didn’t need to ask when you weren’t measuring up. Ryan was not perfect though.

We both had a passion for books; the physicality of them, the joy of breaking the spine on a paper back, feeling it in your hand, dog-eared pages and the smell of paper. But, she was a terrible literature major. ‘I just like to read. I don’t know why people feel the need to pick books apart so much. You either like a story or you don’t,’ she recounted to me once.

‘But Ryan, you’re a literature major. That’s what you’re supposed to do.’

‘I know, but I just love books. So that’s why I’m taking a botany class so I can sit in a flowery meadow and read.’

She was serious. She was at Yale University, THE best school in the US (because Harvard sucks), taking courses with world renowned authors and professors and all she wanted to do was read books in a meadow.

That was what she did. She wanted the best, simple things in life and that was it. That’s why it seems so unfair that she didn’t have as much of it as the rest of us. But, I think, in many ways, she did. I’m still learning from her about the things that I should and shouldn’t strive for. Really, I’ve learned that I shouldn’t strive at all because the things I want are already right here. I just have to sit back and notice them. And Ryan sat back. Don’t get me wrong she was a hard worker, tirelessly so. But she walked, and she ate, and she ran, and she read, and she swam, and she laughed, and she laughed and she laughed. And good things came to her. She took what she had and turned it into what she wanted.

She wasn’t always happy. She felt down and she cried. She sometimes tried too hard to be a shield from sadness for those around her. And it weighed on her. But my greatest happiness was seeing her get together with Ben… again. She finally found someone that she learned to share with. Someone who she felt close enough to rely on. And, I think Ben will agree, it wasn’t easy. She was stubborn and she grabbed at any opportunity to try and take back the burden. She didn’t like people to fuss over her. And she felt it was her job to carry everything alone. But he never let her.

Ryan never let other people take the reigns. Like me, Ben went through a rigorous process of ‘proving’ himself. But, I’m so so happy he did, that he was the one who calmed that girl down. Ryan always smiled, but she didn’t always relax. And Ben gave her that, she was at ease with him, and I can’t thank him enough. She loved Ben so much, and most importantly she trusted him, the best decision she ever made.

Losing Ryan is sad and hard. But, all of us who love her must know that she is finally relaxing. She had so much love. She had her mom and dad. She had her brother and sister who she was so proud of. She had Ben and their lovely dog Molly and Ben's family. She had a hard fight at the end but also an outpouring of love. And now, Ryan is in eternity, sitting somewhere in a meadow full of flowers reading a book, a book about our lives on earth carrying on, narrowing her eyes at us when we’re missing the mark - waiting for us to figure it out on our own, and laughing at the stupid things that we will all inevitably do. And I supposed I’ll have to laugh along too.


PS. I've written a bit more about Ryan here as well as a little something about grief for all of us.

Monday 14 January 2013

This is just a tribute...

The Lady is a Rose - 2004
Farewell to my best friend Ryan Edmonds.

Before she died I was lucky enough to show her that I have dedicated my first book to her. I wanted her to know how much she has inspired me and how much her friendship has changed me for the better. She will always be with me in the pages and I'm not ashamed to say the bulk of the Gemmy and Sem duo is made up of my relationship with Ryan.

Really, Ryan has always been my muse; my funny valentine. All through University I was roping her into the various art projects I was doing. Mostly, she was the only person who I could count on to consent to participating in my various bizarre projects. And that is what inspired me. Though she was reluctant to take part (she actually openly despised it), the thing that always struck me was that she did it anyway. There was nothing in it for her, there was no ulterior motive other than it helped me; gave me comfort in knowing that no matter what she would always be there for me.

She sadly died after a battle with cancer at the age of 30. But not before she married the love of her life, Ben, on 5 January 2013. It was beautiful. If you are so inclined please read more about her journey and possibly make a donation to Caring Bridge or the Dana Farber Institute where she was treated. 

There's nothing I can write that will convey the enormity of losing someone as special as Ryan. So, I wrote this instead:

Ryan Z Edmonds 
(30 May 1982 - 14 January 2013)

I stopped and stared into the night trying to figure out which star was singing into existence as you departed.

You were my best friend. You showed me how to love someone and were the first person to show me how to love myself.

You believed in me as a person, in my heart, not just in my abilities. You believed I could be a better me. I am better for knowing you.

You had a laugh like a mad woman. It filled the room and reverberated inside my being long after you had finished.

You lived life like a mad woman. You didn't look both ways to cross the road. You lived life with abandon and drank in all it had to offer.

You were brave. It was too soon for you and you fought.

You never shopped. You "acquired" clothing (sometimes mine) like you did friends. Good things just came to you. They became part of you.

You refused to buy new things if you thought you could fix them. You could usually fix them.

You were never cross but conveyed you displeasure with a look. You made me feel happy by being in the same room.

You were terrible at keeping in touch and yet I was always sure that I was in your heart.

You were my partner in crime. We planned parties. We raised hell and broke rules. We took care of others and each other. We laughed more than we cried. And when we cried we always ended up laughing.

You were silly. You had a dark sense of humour (Sorry for spilling your secrets)

You loved flowers. You blossomed when you were happy and never totally wilted when you were sad.

You were my muse. You hated being in all of my art projects but did it anyway.

You were kind. You were the best person I have ever known.

You sang. You shined.

You changed my life.

You lived.



PS. Ryan would want us to laugh, so members and friends of the Kingdom will appreciate the Tenacious D reference of the title.

PPS. Ryan, if you're reading this in heaven, please let me and DK know if: A) Santa is real and B) OJ did it. (*cue Ryan laughter*)

PPPS. I've written a bit more about Ryan here as well as a little something about grief for all of us.

Ryan - the things she did just for me.

Thursday 3 January 2013

Tricky: Book 2

Over Christmas I sat with friends sounding out some ideas for the new book to try and flesh out the finer plot points.

One of the biggest blocks centred around a new character who ends up dividing Gemmy and Sem’s loyalty. But who is he and how does this knife wielding, rock-fishing* coaster convince Gemmy and Sem to get from point A to B in the plot? It’s a tricky one. In the outline I’ve been referring to him simply as ‘Tricky’ because, so far, I can tell he’s going to challenge me as a writer. I know Gemmy and Sem - who they are, what they want. ‘Getting to know’ a new character is tough. But what I learned from writing book one is that you have to know who these people are to get the story to make sense.

Tricky with his rock-fish blade - Pencil on paper
Gemmy and Sem (and even Mhetli) were easy because I love them as they are made up of bits from people that I know and love. Tricky’s not so simple as, honestly, I don’t think he’s the sort of person I’d want to get to know. But, that’s half the fun. And, it’s my job as a writer to find the means to garner him some sympathy.

I can’t say too much about him lest I give away the whole plot of book two. But, here’s what I’ve gleaned so far.



Digging the Aladdin pants - Pencil 
One friend asked, ‘Is he ultimately good or ultimately evil.’ ‘Ultimately’ he’s trying to do the right thing, but sometimes his means of accomplishing his ends can be morally ambiguous. He’s trying to right a wrong. And, for the people he’s trying to help he’s absolutely doing the right thing.

Once I figured out exactly what it is he wants I then had to figure out what he’s willing to do to get it. Another friend pointed me in the direction of (Nerd alert!!) Dungeons & Dragons character alignment. Reading the descriptions has really helped clarify for me not just Tricky’s motivation but exactly how he sees the world and why he does the things that he will do. It will also make for some interesting play between the main characters and him. I can already tell he and Gemmy will not get along! Oh dear.

Now that all these ideas are in place the outline for book two has been flowing quite easily. Here’s some new sketches of Tricky. Now all I have to do is sweet talk my mate Darren to come up with a proper name for him. :)

Enjoy!


* Rock-fish are like clams and grow on the sides of coastal cliffs. Rock-fishers repel down the cliffs and harvest them using large heavy blades.