Loss of son still intrudes on daily life

Grief is supposed to be private emotion, something most of society wishes we would deal with in our own rooms, and in short order. No crying at your desk, please. No drastic weight loss. Keep it to yourself, keep things sunny, and Godspeed.

Colleen Prosser doesn't buy any of that. Her grief over the March 20 suicide of her son, Ryan Vego, is an open process.

I am partly responsible for that. In March, I wrote a column about Ryan's death, and then one about his life. I saw, up close, how one person's death can change many lives.

It is still going on.

Over lunch the other day, I listened to Prosser talk about the 25 pounds she has shed since Ryan hanged himself on a bluff at Discovery Park.

I glimpsed the star tattoo Prosser had put over her heart, to match the ones Ryan had on his hands. I heard about the grief group Prosser attends with her husband, Rick, and Ryan's former girlfriend, Heather Dwyer, 32.

"Miracles have occurred in there," Prosser told me.

Tomorrow, Prosser will gather with family and friends at Magnolia Park to dedicate a park bench in Ryan's honor.

And they will celebrate what would have been Ryan's 33rd birthday.

Prosser is resigned to the fact that Ryan was going to go, no matter what she or anyone else did. He suffered from Crohn's disease, depression and a drinking problem.

"Even if we could have caught him that time," she said of his suicide, "there would have been a next."

Ryan's sister, Keva Sieber, 24, has been struggling with her own grief in Boston. Being home for the ceremony helps.

"In this house, where there are pictures of Ryan everywhere," she said, "and on these streets, where we lived, I have to face it more."

The Prossers and Dwyer have found that the 20th of every month - the date Ryan died - moves slowly and painfully. So they keep it full.

Once, they went to Mass and then out for Mexican food, Ryan's favorite. On another 20th, they looked through old pictures.

And then there was the 20th when Dwyer was driving home and saw a woman posting missing-person fliers, just as Dwyer had for Ryan before his body was found.

"I know this. I know this," Dwyer remembered thinking. She stopped to help. She hopes the young man was found.

On Sept. 20, the Prossers, Dwyer and Ryan's friend Joel Putnam set out to find a place for Ryan's bench.

They found a spot that overlooks Puget Sound, with Alki Point in the distance, the Seattle skyline to the left.

It would have suited Ryan's humor if the bench were turned away from the vista or if there were a tree sitting smack dab in front of it.

Instead, there is a plaque that reads:

Musician, Artist, Poet

Kind Heart, Gentle Soul

Forever Loved

Ryan Michael Vego

March 2000

"I think we'll be having a lot of our family gatherings down here from now on," Prosser said, as we took a seat on the wood and turned our faces to the sunshine.

"That way, Ryan can be a part of it."

Nicole Brodeur's column appears Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday in The Times. Her phone number is 206-464-2334. Her e-mail address is nbrodeur@seattletimes.com

She loves the photo. Thank you, Colleen.