Hi it’s me Meg and I’m a board member for Rhys Above. I’m here for Rhyland. That’s the short of it. Our neighborhood is the closest suburban thing to the group parenting hippie commune I always imagined myself raising children in… and Downingtown really is this nostalgic small town heaven. We all have each other’s backs here. We look at all our neighborhood kids as our own, and when we lost Rhyland we lost a piece of our whole that we just can’t ever get back. I’m here to help hold up his piece. I’m here to save space for him.
In those dark days immediately after Rhyland died, trying to help Jen and James hold their grief, I remember what really overwhelmed me was the feeling of how much Rhyland carried without any of us knowing. I remember his smile and his laughter, and my own kids looking up to him, and I remember thinking how utterly impressed I was that he put on such a brave face for all of us. And how utterly devastated I was that he put on such a brave face for all of us.
And don’t I know what that feels like? Don’t we all, really? Know what it’s like to swallow our dark parts and put on a smile? Keep one foot in front of the other and try not to let anybody down? It’s hard. It’s hard to be brave and optimistic and it’s hard to be vulnerable and terrified. I’m here because I am all of these things. I’m here because I think most of us are. I’m here to make sure my babies - which, if you know me, you know this means literally all of the babies- grow up with safe spaces and mental health curriculum and access to therapy and whole and complete acceptance regardless of who they are and where they are and what they’re feeling. And I’m here to make sure it’s fun. And authentic. And really freaking badass. Because that’s who Rhyland was, and we aren’t gonna sap out on him.