Uncles

My brother really adored our Uncle Gerry. He is my dad’s younger brother. As a young man, he took off south from Lynchburg on a motorcycle for the beaches of Florida and never returned. We didn’t get to see him a ton as he lived a few states away, but my brother always loved that origin story and swore from a very young age that one day he’d do the same thing. And he did eventually. Ryan left his familiar life in Lynchburg and headed down to Topsail Island to chase his dream of living right on the beach. One of the particularly sad things about his passing to me is that he was so excited about the life he’d created down there and how it was all coming together (his home, deep friendships, career). Here’s a photo of Ryan with Uncle Gerry around 1991 I’d guess.

Fast forward 25 years, he’s followed Gerry one step further and become the fun Uncle that nieces and nephews love and adore. Their favorite place was going to Uncle Ryan’s beach and staying with him. He loved the heck out of them and they loved him right back.

Having to sit our kids down in our garden and break the news of Ryan’s passing to them is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. William, who would’ve been 8 at the time, just immediately moaned out “Unkie” and bawled like a baby while we all held each other. After a while, he wiped his tears and asked me to throw the football with him in the yard, which was something we typically did for 10-15 minutes everday. This time, we threw for several hours not really saying very much until both our arms felt like they might fall off if we threw one more pass so we finally went inside. I can’t write much more than that because my eyes are welling up, but I just love the way that these two photographs rhyme and will always be grateful for how much Uncle Ryan loved on my kids and for the special time they got to spend together with him.