A Tribute "2
Ryan"
(As published in the March/April 2007 issue of HogTales Magazine)
Life was good. It was August 2001, and my wonderful wife, Susan, gave me a life long dream for my birthday:
a brand-new Harley - a black 2002 Heritage Softail Classic. I had ridden a
motorcycle on a few occasions - a long, long time ago - but this is the
first motorcycle I've ever owned.
My son, Ryan, who was 24 at the time, just loved it. He
didn't ride (he was more into cars), but he loved that I did, even though
he liked to tease me about the new bike. He took to calling me
"Johnny Cash" because of the way I looked in my black leathers
sitting on that black motorcycle. If he'd had his choice, he always
said, the bike would have been green.
It didn't take long for me to start taking full advantage of
my new passion and the Harley lifestyle. I added chrome and a few
accessories to make my Harley uniquely mine.
I joined the local H.O.G. chapter and rode a lot, typically
logging more than 10,000 miles a year, even while we still lived on the 
New
Jersey shore. I even rode to Milwaukee for the 100th Anniversary
Celebration.
Not long after the epic journey, I decided to retire early
and move to Florida to enjoy the good life. Ryan, who recently graduated
from the University of Delaware, decided to move down with us.
Again, life was good. then tragedy struck - the worst
nightmare for any parent. In June 2005, I found Ryan in his new condo in
Boca Raton, dead from a cerebral aneurysm.
Susan and I were, and still are, devastated. Ryan was, and
still is, the best child any parent could ask for. He was loving, caring
and affectionate - he hugged and kissed me every time he saw me (unusual
for a young man!). We felt truly blessed to have this remarkable son. He
was only 28 - and he was gone.
Life became a struggle for Susan and me. We couldn't believe
our precious and only child had been taken away. Nothing seemed important
anymore as we found ourselves on life's toughest journey. I stopped riding
my Harley.
The only thing that kept us going was the incredible support
of our friends and family - and also Ryan's friends. His friends still
call and e-mail us - and many send us Mother's and Father's day cards. We
also got a lot of help from The Compassionate Friends, a bereavement group
for parents who have buried a child.
A year after his death, we held a service in his honor, and
we were once again overwhelmed by the number of people who came to
remember him. It was then that Susan said something very important to me:
"Frank, Ryan would want you to start riding your Harley again."
I knew she was right, but I also knew that, just as I would
never be the same, my bike should never be the same either. I decided to
make it a rolling tribute to Ryan. So I ordered a Nostalgia paint set (you
guessed it, in green) and a new Florida license plate that reads "2
Ryan."
Now when I ride my beautiful Heritage Softail, I ride to
celebrate and honor the memory and legacy of my son, Ryan Elliot Bell.
The reactions I get are amazing. Total strangers give me a
"thumbs up," or stop and ask me what the license plate means.
I'm always eager to tell them because it gives me another opportunity to
talk about Ryan, something of which I will never tire. I've even had
people ask to take a picture of it!
Susan and I still have a long way to go in dealing with our grief; I'm not
sure I'll ever be able to say, "life is good" again and really
mean it. But when I ride my Harley, I'm the proudest father in the world.
And when I step off and admire it, I can almost see Ryan looking down with
a smile and saying ...
"Now, Dad, that's what a Harley should look like!
Note From Spyder:
Frank
is not just a good customer but also a good friend. Frank and Susan are
the best example of the wonderful people that you meet on motorcycles and
although unfortunately I never got the opportunity to meet Ryan, I want to
thank Frank for letting me have the honor of customizing his bike to
tribute his son,
Ryan
You will be missed, and never
forgotten!
