Ryan

One of my closest childhood friends from Mobile died last night. Ryan was actually my only Jewish friend in Mobile. He was the person I would crack jokes with in Shul. He was a year older than me, so I naturally looked up to him.



I cannot believe Ryan is gone. He could have done anything with his life. He was smart as hell, funny, charming. He was not afraid of anything either. He wasn't afraid of the kerosene fire I started in my garage (he put it out), he wasn't afraid of Jeremy Borak (the bully that he beat up), and he wasn't of afraid of charging the lane on the basketball court when he was only 5'2. He was fearless.

But I guess he could not catch a break. And life hit him hard. I cannot imagine how his brother Sam is taking this.

I understand as we get older we cannot stay in touch with everyone. Choices are made. Distance is created. But our childhood friends are not supposed to die - not now, not at 35. You are supposed to see them every so often and reminisce, and rekindle the bonds of friendship. You are supposed to laugh about the Lichtensteins and crazy Michael Rich and how mean Rabbi Stiebel was to his congregants. I will never have that chance with Ryan Scott Small. I just don't understand how he fell so far away - not just from me - but from the others who loved him. I don't understand how he got lost - and how he was lost by all of us.

I am hopeful Ryan is in a better place. I, for one, will always have vibrant, positive memories of Ryan. I just cannot believe he is dead. And I don't know if there is anything to take away from this, except to say "hold on tight."