It's been three weeks less a day that we had the memorial at Mountain Christian Church for our son, Patrick Alen Ryan. He died 12 days short of his 54th birthday on February 28th. The memorial was really nice. Pastor Windell Pell did the eulogy. He couldn't say much for he didn't really know much about him except that he was a "prodical son" that had been astranged from us for twelve years this time.

Pastor Pell is my uncle, brother to my deceased mother. His wife, Connie is my aunt. They have their own church in Peach Bottom, Pa. It is called "The Lighthouse of the Restoration" and he does actually have a lighthouse attached to the church. Uncle Windell (as I call him) and Aunt Connie sang a few spiritual songs during the service which were simply beautiful. Uncle Windell plays the guitar in a unique style all his own. He has a "clicking" guitar pick that really lends the uniqueness to the sound. My brother in law, George, particularly enjoyed it.

During the service I was called on to read the devotional that I had written for my son. I did get up to the podium and begin to read but my emotions took over and I could not do it. I called on Christy Struben to read it for me. She is one of our ladies at the Mountain Church Writers Group. The devotional I wrote was this:

A Mother's Pain

Go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father, and your Father, and to my God and your God. John 20:17b (KJV)

I sat in the car holding tightly to the box that held the blue, cold urn containing my son's ashes. I thought about the mother of Jesus, holding her Son's dead, cold body in her arms. She was wracked with the pain of loss. I felt the depth of her pain. Mary hardly saw her Son those three and a half years He ministered in the streets, preaching the Kingdom. I had not seen my son for twelve years. I longed to hold him just once more before he died.

God raised His Son to the heights of heaven where He reigns with Him today. I raised my son to the top of my china cabinet where he will be until my husband or I expire. His ashes will be put in one of our caskets to be buried with one of us someday.

At John 11:25 Jesus said, I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.

I know that in the resurrection, God can take my son's ashes and build a new, perfect body, to live again in a world cleansed from all sin. My hope is to be there with all of my family.

I once held my warm, wiggly baby boy in my arms. Now I hold him again in a cold, still urn.

Father, I pray that my son's soul ascended to You and that he was forgiven of his trespasses so that he might live with You forever, surrounded by Your love. Amen.

(c) 2014 E. Bonnie Ryan

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Rest in peace, Patrick Alen Ryan

Born February 28, 1960            Died February 17, 2014