I keep thinking about writing something about Ryan and then when I sit down and try to do it - I can't formulate my thoughts into anything.

I am still numb.

Even after 3 months. Each day feels a little like the last. I wake up with an ache in my heart - still used to the normal morning rituals we used to go through. But now they're just my morning rituals.

Thankfully those first few weeks have been put to rest. Talk about having open heart surgery when you're still awake. But maybe this numbness is my brain trying to protect me from trauma. I know in time it will get better - everyone tells me that - but...

I felt Ryan when we drove to Whistler this weekend. When we passed the Chief in Squammish - I got a deep notion that he would want to be there. He spent a lot of time with Jesse on those walls. Then I was saddened while riding the lift up to the snow - sensing how much I loss. Surrounded by people, giddy to head to the mountain. Yet Ryan wasn't there. Ryan lived for powder days. He lived just to live. It made me cry - and yet when I was ripping it up on taking the line I wanted to take, being aggressive and getting after it - I could hear him cheering for me in my head. And that was such a good feeling. The numbness was gone, if only for a split second, and acceptance came into my consciousness.