It was mid-December 1999 and a Romanian girl was coming to America for the first time. Not only to America, but to New York City. The Millennium craze was just about to begin. Everything was beyond exciting. The Romanian girl was truly overwhelmed and when she set her foot on American ground she started crying for joy, like other millions of foreigners whose dream to come to America came true.
I was going to stay in the United States for just three weeks and enjoy every second of it, what else? The biggest highlight of my trip was to see my cousin for the first time after many years. We used to spend almost every school break together, we were pen pals during school year even if we lived a mere 1 hour away. How much joy to read her letters, how much fun to spend New Year’s Eves together!! Communism had separated us and then American embassy would not issue me a touristic visa because I was young and single. Until one day, when I went to the embassy again with a letter signed by my Irish manager endorsing my return back home. It worked like magic and I got a touristic visa to live the American dream for 3 weeks sharp.
My cousin and I were going to explore New York City for a few days and then head to her home in New Hampshire. Every day we woke up at noon and explored the city til midnight. So much laughter, shopping and adventure. One day Rockefeller Center, another day The Statue of Liberty, then The Nutcracker (maybe 80% of it as we got there late and giggled most of the time), one day St Patrick’s Cathedral or Central Park and one night TIMES SQUARE for the Millennium celebration. We simply loved it. We had the most wonderful host family and they didn’t even care that we came back one night and knocked one of their flower pots over in the dark and made a big mess. Nothing really mattered and fun was the word of the day!
A few days later, exhausted of the city we hopped on a Greyhound to New England for Christmas. My cousin lived in Portsmouth, a magical place that I soon fell in love with. Everything looked like in a postcard. I loved the red bricks architecture and the white church tower made it even more picturesque. And the boats and lighthouses and salty air…I still secretly wished my life led me there again not just for a little trip.
My cousin and her fiancée wanted me to have a great time in New Hampshire as well. One of the first nights there we went out to a little pub for a drink in the evening. A friend of theirs would join us, they told me. Sure, the more the merrier I thought. And what a merry evening it was. Ryan was his name. We ordered mixed drinks and started chatting. He was charming and really easy to talk to. He told me that that evening was sort of a Christmas present to himself, I remember this clearly, as he loved Portsmouth and was going to spend the night at Sheraton’s. He invited us over to his hotel room and the party continued. He had a bottle of champagne from a liquor store where his mom worked, if I am not wrong. We took funny pictures, drank champagne and laughed a lot. I know I taught him some Romanian words and that was going to be one of the most memorable days in my American journey: the day I met Ryan Charland. A few days later we met him again in Boston for a little while and at the end we exchanged email addresses. We kept in touch and he was asking me to come visit again. I had no plans really. It was so hard or almost impossible to get an American visa so I didn’t even want to bother. It was nice that he hadn’t forgotten about me, I was frankly flattered. He was a handsome young professional. I felt like I don’t deserve someone like him.
5 years passed and there I am again in the United States at my cousin’s wedding. Ryan was not living in N.H. anymore and I had heard he moved to Colorado as he loved snowboarding so much. He came to my cousin’s wedding , he was there. Tall, handsome, shy. We talked briefly and it was nice to see him again. That was going to be the last time I was to see Ryan. August of 2004.
Life took strange turns for me and I married an American against all odds. Life brought me to Minnesota. In 2008 with all the Facebook craze I started looking for far away friends and reconnected with most of them. I thought of looking for Ryan Charland and adding him to my Facebook but I refrained myself. I thought….maybe he will think it is weird. In a way I was dying to tell him this “Hey Ryan, look, I did end up in the USA, like I never really planned”. I didn’t look him up so I didn’t add him. Now I so regret it!
One chilly morning in March of 2009 my phone rang and it was my cousin, with shocking news. Ryan was no longer with us, he had decided to leave this world somehow. I cried for days as if I had lost a great friend. I could not believe it is true. I prayed for God to give me some supernatural powers and bring his soul back. I knew Ryan for two evenings, several emails and phone calls and one late summer afternoon. I didn’t know him at all probably. The little I knew of him was very sweet. I remember his laughter very clearly. I remember he told me he paid over a hundred dollars to call me once but he didn’t care about the money and made me feel special. I remember him explaining to me that Charland is of Canadian origin, maybe French. I remember we took a subway train in Boston and I remember it was kind of rainy that night when we said good bye now 12 years ago. Don’t ask me why I remember. I forget a lot of things all the time but many things about Ryan I still remember.
Now 12 years later, ironically or not, life led me to Colorado. The place where Ryan spent the last years of his life. He loved snowboarding I heard and he worshipped the mountains. I live now where he lived and every day I see the mountains that he loved and I think of him a little every day, somewhere in the back of my mind. I told my cousin that I think of Ryan when I see the mountains and she told me that she and her husband dream of him sometimes. I have no idea why someone who comes into your life for two evenings and one late summer afternoon stays with you forever. Maybe because he was part of my youth, maybe because he was part of the most exciting journey I had ever taken, maybe because he was simply sweet to me.
Tomorrow I will look out the window and see Long’s Peak in the distance and part of me will think of Ryan. And every day will be the same, as long I see the Rockies. Words are very weak. I don’t know how to explain it. I’d like to tell him one thing. Ryan, please know that we miss you so much.
