The second post I wrote for the blog back on November 13, 2006 was a eulogy to one of my dearest friends in the world Ryan (Ron) Taylor. Ryan was not happy with the name Ron and those of us who met him in Ottawa at a certain time in his life knew him as Ryan; his family and earlier friends knew him as Ron. No matter what name you knew him under you knew a charming, erudite, maddening, learned, witty, irritating, gentle and loving person.

1950-2006
By that strange alignment of the stars that we call serendipity a post about books by Old Lurker reminded me of the last note I received from Ryan. It came in a neatly (being from him of course it was) wrapped parcel containing a book. The book was Boy’s Like Us – an anthology of short coming-out stories/essays – and the note simply said “Darling boy, I won’t need this anymore.” The next day I received a phone call telling me his body had been found in the Niagara River.
I was fortunate to be able to keep in touch with some of his family: his cousin Dayle, his niece and, again through serendipity, his brother who lived in the building we moved into when we returned from Italy in 2011.

On May 30th, a day after reading Luker’s post, I received an email from Dayle telling me that she had taken Ryan’s ashes to England and he had found his final resting place: the small village of Grasmere in the Lake District. In the nearby church yard is the grave of William Wordsworth, a poet who’s works he treasured.

And when the stream that overflows has passed,
William Wordsworth
A consciousness remains upon the silent shore of memory;
Images and precious thoughts that shall not be
And cannot be destroyed.
The Excursion
At the time of his death I said something that is as true today as it was thirteen years ago:
If you had any faults – and like all of us you did – the greatest was that you did not love yourself enough to realize how much you were loved. You are greatly loved. “The lad” and I miss you.
Your “darling boy”
Today I can add: I am joyful that you have found a place of peaceful rest.
Strangely June 4th is Tailors Day – granted a different spelling but it will do.
Beautiful n sad.
That was a very touching post, you honour his memory.
So very sad. I went back and read your original post — a beautiful tribute to your friend. There’s so much promise and potential lost with suicide. I always hate to contemplate the unbearable pain which makes it seem like the only possible choice. I have had several friends who have chosen that option over the years and it is forever heartbreaking.
Wow. That is serendipity, but sad too.
Have you decided whether you will read the book?
I am still not sure. This may sound far-fetched but I wonder if there is something in there that was saying something about what was in his mind at the time. And to be honest I am a bit uneasy about that.
So touching and so tragic. May the memories always sweeten with time.
That was very tender Will; thank you for sharing this.