One Year Ago Today

A year ago today, it was a Friday. I left work at 11:30am. I went to look at a house in Shakopee. I talked to Chris on the drive home...I really liked this house. He left work early to meet me at home. We were excited about being done early from work, and about being with my family for my dad's 50th birthday. It was going to be a really fun, celebratory weekend. I stopped at the store and picked us up sandwich fixings for lunch. We ate together and packed some things so we could stay at my parent's house for the weekend. We left our place around 2:45 to pick my brother up from his work Christmas party at the Earl Browne Heritage Center.

We were sitting in front of the building, waiting for my brother when Chris received a call on his cell phone. Completely out of character for him, he answered it, even though it was an unknown number. I turned the radio down and heard pieces of what the man on the other end was saying. I heard Chris' responses. "No, I've been out of the country and haven't talked to him for a few weeks." And then I heard the man say, "they did everything they could to save him." and Chris turned to me and said, "He fucking died." As he kept listening to the man on the other end, I lost my shit. Completely and totally lost it. I couldn't breathe. I was shaking. I was crying and uttering things. It was unreal and to this day I feel almost embarassed about it. I handed a pen to Chris so he could write down some info, my hand shaking so badly I couldn't believe it was actually my hand. He was so calm. It was so unreal.

I got out of the car and tried to call my brother to tell him to come out of the building so we could leave. He didn't answer. I called my mom at work and told her. Chris called his mom at work and told her too. I got back in the car and my brother called Chris' phone from inside the party and said, "This is the GREATEST day EVER!!! Guess what just happened!!" and Chris told him "I can't talk right now" and handed the phone to me. I told Jason to come outside right now, and he couldn't really hear me, and I started screaming "Chris' dad died!! CHRIS' DAD IS DEAD!!!!" Jason hung up and came outside a few seconds later acting really quiet - it turns out he thought I said "Dad died."

I wish I could say the rest of the night was a blur, but it wasn't. I remember everything.


We drove from the Christmas party to my parent's house. We called my dad from the house on his cell phone - he was just leaving the funeral of a co-worker. Some 50th birthday.


I called back the number that had called Chris (the Hennepin County Investigator from the Medical Examinors Office) and had him re-tell the story and find out where Ron was. It turned out he was 1 mile away at North Memorial Hospital. He had been brought in at around 8:30 by the ambulance and was pronounced dead a little after 11:00 am. Apparently many attempts were made to bring him back, but none of them worked. He was never concious after collapsing on the side of the road. I was told that we could go to view his body at the hospital and was asked what time we wanted to come. We decided to go at 5:30.

When we arrived at the hospital we were ushered into a small waiting room outside the ER. A nurse came in and explained again what happened and asked if we had any questions. We didn't really know what to ask, we just kind of sat there.

Then they brought us to another area with chairs and pointed to the Sunset Room (I remember thinking, what a fucking stupid name for the room) and said, he is in there when you're ready.


Chris and I walked in and Ron was laying under a sheet that stopped at his shoulders. He didn't look like himself at all. He wasn't wearing his glasses, his watch, anything that he usually was. His mouth was slightly open and his hair was messed up. We didn't understand how this could be happening. It is still sometimes unreal.

It's been one year ago today since life changed; since Chris lost his dad, since we realized how fragile life is. It's hard to remember what it was like before. Many things have changed, but one thing remains the same - the love you feel and the good memories you've made stay with you and sustain you through the hard times.

Thank you, Ron, for the gift of your son. He is a great, kind and loving husband. Because of the father you were to him, he will be an amazing one to our kids someday. I only wish you could be here to take part in our lives - to see our first house, to help with the remodel, to be proud of your son for his accomplishments.

I know you are still here in spirit - and that you are smiling down on us. We love and miss you.