Today marks the second anniversary of Ryan's death. As much as it is a sad event with lots of trauma involved, it is also a day of celebration. Celebration in remembering someone who lived each day to the fullest. Who made friends everywhere he went and liked to joke around. Who took climbing seriously and got just as excited when a friend on-sight or red-pointed something then his own accomplishments.
The past three weeks were rough. I was constantly bombarded with reminders of his absence and cried, a lot. I felt more alone and lost then I had since he died. But over the weekend, while in Mazama, a cloud lifted. What is normally a moody and difficult time for me - wasn't. I no longer look at Goat Wall with anger. I no longer look up its flanks and imagine what happened on that fateful day. I still wonder why it didn't rain that day - but know that those thoughts are pointless. What happened, happened.
So tonight I'm taking a brown bagged bottle of IPA, going to my favorite spot in the city and will celebrate Ryan's life.
Ryan Alan Murray Triplett June 5, 1977 - September 7, 2008