I lost a friend last month. His name was Ryan Gregory Smith, and I had known him for 20 years. We were in marching band together; he played trumpet, and I played clarinet. When we were seniors, I became a drum major (field conductor), and Ryan was our trumpet soloist. We started dating that fall.

Ryan was the ideal high school boyfriend. First, he was beautiful. Six feet tall, slim with great cheekbones and broad shoulders, blond hair that always fell just right and pretty blue eyes. And he was smart. We were in AP classes together, and he did very well in school. He was also funny. He’d throw away one-liners that you wouldn’t get until later. Best of all, he treated me like a treasure. He was a great kisser, but we never went further than that, so things never got difficult or complicated.

We had our graduation party together with four other dear friends, and we spent the whole summer between high school and college, hanging out at my parents’ house, having a blast. It was one of the best times of my life.
Ryan went off to college in Illinois, while I headed to IU in southern Indiana. Then he moved to Cleveland, Ohio. We didn’t see each other much, but we e-mailed and talked on the phone now and then. When he came home to Indy, we always got together for lunch or something.

The last time I saw Ryan was at his brother Matt’s funeral. Matt had committed suicide at age 27. Ryan was devastated. I spoke to him on the phone once, and we exchanged several e-mails in the ensuing months. Then, in August, I learned that he’d been hospitalized with stomach cancer. It was going to be okay, though. And then it wasn’t. He died on August 28th at the age of 36.

Over the past few weeks, I have re-connected with dozens of people over the loss of our friend. I am trying to make sure I make more time for all of my friends now. It’s too bad we have to lose someone to realize how much we value the people around us.

Ryan was a wonderful man. I hope lots of people remember that. I will.