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Ryma was incredibly organized. I would say that her administrative prowess was second to none, but that would leave open the possibility that someone was as gifted as she was in this area, and that simply isn’t true.

She kept everything. Knew where everything was. Took care of everything, and it’s paid off for me multiple times, like when I needed the van and Jeep titles, and other legal documents.

I needed to look through some of her things today, and came across these gift cards. Just for fun I looked up how much value was on each one.

$2.35 — Subway
$0.28 — McDonalds
$26.87 — Macy’s

I didn’t want her to have kept them in vain, so last night I let her treat me to dinner at Subway and dessert at McDonalds!

The cashier at Subway asked if I wanted her to dispose of the card, since it had no value left on it. I said, “no,” and explained why it had some sentimental value to me. She and her co-worker seemed genuinely touched by the story, and had some nice things to say.

Organization is one of the areas where our strengths and weaknesses complemented one another, and organizational “entropy” is working its way back into my life. But sometimes little things like this remind me how lucky I still am that she organized and set up our household. I’m still benefiting from it.

Sometime soon I’ll let her buy me a shirt at Macy’s.

Thank you, my dear.

Four years ago tonight, Ryma painted this picture. She hadn’t painted in more than a decade, and decided to take a class. The participants weren’t meant to complete a painting in the 60 minute class, just learn about and practice the technique (which I believe was painting with sponges and rags). Anyway, she got this done during the class.

Initially, I thought I’d hang it in our bedroom, but I caught a glimpse of it from a distance and realized that–like most abstract paintings–it looks even better from a distance, because our minds fill in the details, which is a cool phenomenon!

People speak metaphorically of crossing a river at the time of death. I like to think that this is the river that Ryma has crossed.

This is Ryma at the MooThru in the summer of 2013. Look close, and you can see her leaning on the right-most column. She loved that place. We still do. She’d sometimes indulge in a huge banana split (knowing that I’d always help her finish it)!  It’s been thirteen months since she passed. Feeling nostalgic, and a bit melancholy, I stopped by today. Fittingly, it was cold, wet and dreary. After finishing my two scoops of vanilla–as I headed back around that front corner–I remembered this photo and stopped to lean on that same column for a few minutes. I can’t explain why, but standing in that same spot, and leaning on the column, was comforting.

Sometimes it still blows my mind that ten years ago someone would have chosen me to be father to her children! And that ten years later she would pass from this world without any reservations about that choice.

Don’t get me wrong: I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love her my our girls with all my heart and soul. They are my world. I’ve done my best to be the best dad that I can possibly be, and always will. But still… to step back and think that someone would essentially give me her children is mind blowing.

Naturally, it’s not quite as simple as it sounds. I loved the girls even before I met them, from pictures Ryma showed me, and stories she told me. I already loved them when she brought them through the International Arrivals gate at Dulles for the first time! Of course, I was no stranger to Ryma ten years ago, and certainly not one now. By the time Ryma departed this life–after a decade as a family–I was unquestioningly the girls’ daddy. I still am.

Nevertheless, when I step back and reflect, it still amazes me.

So, on Father’s Day, I thank Ryma for having the faith and confidence in me–then and now–to trust me with the two most precious and important people in her life. They are the two most precious and important people in my life too.

Ten years ago I bought a Jeep so that I’d have room to transport Ryma’s two precious girls. Today I took those two girls young ladies to pick out a new Jeep!

We need something with an automatic transmission for them to drive. They didn’t like the idea of replacing the minivan, or the Miata I suggested. And the more I thought about it, the less it made sense buy a third car when they’ll be going back to school in a couple of months. They’ve been home a couple weeks already, and need to be able to get around.

That now ten-year-old Jeep is showing its age, and the AC died a couple days ago, so we “compromised” and replaced it with the one pictured above. It’s got an automatic transmission, and also a hard top (something we had always planned to add to the old Jeep).

It’s been more than a decade since I bought a car without Ryma’s input. Today her girls picked this one.

 

Ryma would have been 46 today. When my mom passed away, she was 50. I remember everyone saying how young she was. Ryma was only 45. As the old saying goes: only the good die young. It’s sad but true.

We’ve had a lot of “firsts” since she’s been gone.

1 ) Angel’s first day of college
2 ) First Halloween
3 ) First All Saints Day
4 ) First Thanksgiving
5 ) First Angel’s Birthday
6 ) First Christmas
7 ) First Jessica’s Birthday
8 ) First New Years
9 ) First Groundhogs Day
10 ) First Valentines Day
11 ) First Saint Patricks Day
12 ) First Easter
13 ) |Angel’s First Full Year of College
14 ) First Randy’s Birthday

And now her first birthday. There’s nothing really profound to say. The firsts don’t get any easier. Maybe the whole round of seconds will…

Below is the full Facebook exchange from last year that I copied the Turtle above from, and below that the turtle from the year before that. Ryma loved turtles, so they’re in her timeline quite frequently.

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Today is our first Mothers’ Day without Ryma, the mother of my precious girls.

The picture above comes from another time, a time when there wasn’t a camera in every phone, nor–for that matter–a phone in every hand. Pictures were rarer then, and all the more precious for it.

I love glimpses like these into Ryma’s life, her childhood, school years, and young adulthood. It helps me get to know the girl I never knew in person, who grew up to be the the incredible woman that I do know.

The picture above is one of my favorites, but it occurs to me today that it also paints an incredible picture of motherhood. Ryma is held in the arms of her mother’s friend (on the right), and Ryma’s mother holds a child of the other (on the left). The three children are now mothers themselves and still friends  (according to Facebook), as are the mothers in the photo. Motherhood spans generations, and it bonds and spans families. I think love is the foundation of motherhood, and in that it even spans death.

Ryma had an awesome mother who raised 4 children, and Ryma herself was an awesome mother who raised 2 daughters. I have no doubt that they in turn, will be awesome mothers when and if they choose that path, because they had an awesome mother and grandmother.

The complement to motherhood, of course, is fatherhood. I have some thoughts on that too, but think I’ll save them for Fathers’ Day. Today is about mothers, and this post about Ryma in particular.

Below is another one of my favorite pictures of Ryma and her mom from many years ago, and below that a couple more recent photos of all three generations. Ryma never met my mother in this life, but I’m sure they’ve met now, so below these other pictures is a little homage to my mother.

 

 

 

 

 

Ryma was one of those rare people who actually like their job. In fact, she loved her job. The picture above is of a luncheon with some of her oldest colleagues, going back to the World Bank’s Jakarta office. She was excited about visiting that day.

At this point we knew she was terminal, but she was participating in a clinical trial that was having some positive effect, and of course we hoped and prayed for a miracle. It was difficult for her to get ready and into the city, but she was determined to make the visit, and have lunch with her friends.

It was also the last time she visited the World Bank. In addition to the luncheon, we happened to cross paths with a number of her other friends and colleagues. An “alert” seemed to go out that Ryma was in the building, because lots of people tracked her down in the cafeteria, and others were waiting in the lobby. It was a good visit, and she enjoyed it tremendously.

It’s hard to believe that visit was a year ago, and even harder to believe that 3.5 months later she was gone.

This is the Google Doodle on (I believe) the second day of the Winter Olympics in South Korea (apparently turtles are a good luck charm in Korea). You can see more about the doodle here (including a little animation of the graphics):

https://www.google.com/doodles/doodle-snow-games-day-2

I know Ryma would have loved this one, and I thought I’d share it here.

I have dozens of pictures of turtles because I’d always stop and take a photo if I encountered one on the trail while biking or hiking, and I’d forward them to her,  just to let her know that I was thinking of her. I have pictures of turtles along the Savannah river and Augusta Canal in my hometown, from when Ryma and I walked there. I have pictures of turtles in aquariums at various places, like Inner Harbor in Baltimore. I’ve even taken pictures of pictures of turtles, which is kind of silly, but I suppose that’s what category this falls into (well, screen grab of an online picture).

She also had many stuffed turtles and turtle figurines, which are all still here in the house.

Turtles were her thing, and they remind me of her.

 

Ryma loved Halloween! She would throw herself into it each year. I don’t mean with month-long decorations, or throwing parties, but she was all-in for trick-or-treating, to include always wearing a costume, and she loved it when kids would greet her with “hi, Cinderella,” or whatever her costume happened to be!

The first couple of years that we lived in Bristow, our routine was that I’d take Angel and Jessica out trick-or-treating, and Ryma would stay home to hand out candy. She loved it! After a couple years, when the girls lost interest in going door-to-door, I’d stay home and hand out candy with her.

I’m not sure why she liked Halloween so much. Maybe just because it’s so fun. Maybe because it’s quintessentially American. When I first met her, I asked her what Jakarta was like. She described a city with shopping malls that had all the same chain stores and restaurants as we have in the US. As a Christian, her calendar of holidays wasn’t significantly different from ours: Christmas, Easter, etc. Halloween, on the other hand, is uniquely American. Anyway, as a sign of the extent to which she assimilated, she was all-American!

When I say “she” put up decorations each year, I mean that she had me put up decorations. See-through screens in the windows with opaque backdrops, strobe lights to flash through, not to mention carving jack-o-lanterns. Each year I’d encourage her to back off a little, frankly because I hoped each year to do a little less work. Sadly, I got my wish this year. I put up a few things, and was prepared to hand out candy, but Halloween was bittersweet this year. Fortunately, by strange coincidence, the girls were both home from school to help soften the blow.

These are just a couple pictures of Ryma celebrating her last Halloween in 2016. By this point, we knew that her cancer had returned, and that she would resume chemotherapy, but from the pictures you’d never know it. She never, ever stopped smiling.