4 years...Still feels like yesterday...

In memory of my best friend, Ryan Kendrick 4/21/78 - 4/10/10 ...my eulogy from his funeral...

Where does one start?

How about this isn’t the way it was supposed to go. You see I have not known Ryan my entire life, I only met him back in 1998. Here I was a big city kid in the little apple. I knew no one, had no car and had no clue of what would happen next.

What did happen next changed my life forever.

At the time it was not earth shattering, didn’t make the papers, but it planted a seed. You see one day while eating lunch at the Kramer Dining Center by myself, this kid who looked familiar walked up and asked to sit down. He recognized me from studio and history class. He sat down and we started talking. From that point on we walked to class together, shared many more meals and spent hours of time hanging out. Then we came up with SHM. 

I quote Sackman, “It’s a spirit among the group of us that takes great pride in our lives as well as the lives among SHM. It’s a group of “guys” whom over the years share a special bond that outside no-one understands…fuhgetaboutit…is our credo. It meant that if you knew what SHM was, you’d never have to ask, it’s not a secret society, or a fraternity…initiation was simple…you had to be a genuine person. As individuals we hurt, we break, we are susceptible to common struggles that any human can face. As SHM, we fight whatever comes our way together, we muck, grind and face the pains together.” To better attack our challenges we decided to finally rent a house with Stu, the other official rent paying roommate in Manhattan. The next three years are filled with great stories and events at 1209 Vattier. Like the night Stu and me stacked all the furniture in front of his bedroom door while he slept, and when he woke up he only said,

I’m not cleaning this up and went back to bed. Many other memories as Sackman once wrote, “ Guy’s night, Joe’s wings and their waitress staff, the kleptomania, a pint or 5 at Annie Mae’s, a bucket of margaritas. It saw some great parties, movies, football games and even Erik’s birthday suit.

It was me, Ryan, Stu, Erik, Krista, the Nation, Kurteye, Jew, Charles and Brad. It was softball games, sledding into fences, and pick-up football. It was and ever will be a brotherhood. There are many other stories but are best not spoken here, sorry mom Kendrick.


Graduation came and we all started to

scatter to the corners of the world, ok maybe just the Midwest but it sure seemed far. But Ryan and his family lived near my family in Kansas City, allowing our friendship to grow deeper as the years passed. Then one day I got that dreadful phone call, I was standing in my stairway and the words are still clear in my head,

“Brian I have cancer”. Bad things are not suppose to happen to great people, and Ryan was the greatest person I knew, he was never supposed to get sick. Ryan never wanted anyone to be inconvenienced for him, but this time I was not going to accept that, I asked what we needed to be done and he asked me to call our friends from K-State and let them know. And so the journey of me taking on the responsibility of being Ryan’s voice to our friends began, and it was a great honor. We both knew he was going to beat the cancer, and with all of his family and friends behind him, nothing could stop him. And he did.

He got better, and then he moved to Minneapolis. I was saddened when he left Kansas City, but that is mainly because I did not want to share him with anyone else. But in typical Ryan fashion he came up here and immediately influenced and touched each and every single person he knew. I could cope with him moving as it gave me another place to come visit, which I gladly did. He would call and keep me posted on his doctor appointments and one time he called saying a spot has shown up. I believed and spoke words of encouragement to Ryan saying, “We beat this one time, we will just do it again.” Over the next year I could tell it was taking a toll on him. He was still Ryan, but you could tell he was hurting. His conversations started to talk about planning for Erin and his girl futures. Making sure they were close to family so they could help him while he was sick.

So, things were about to change, Ryan and his family were moving back to Kansas City, going to be close to me and my family. We were going to be able to finally hang out again on weekends and catch Wizards
games. We had already talked about how I was going to smoke a turkey for him this Thanksgiving. We were even watching which houses came for sale in my neighborhood.

Two weeks ago he called me to tell

me he was going off treatment. I felt devastated, but he asked me to let our friends know. It was time for me to be strong for Ryan, and I was. I prayed for the Lord to perform a miracle, but even through all my strength I couldn’t help but cry for him. Then one week ago he calls and says he going on hospice. I didn’t think I could become more devastated or helpless, but it continued to worsen, and once again I passed on Ryan’s report to our friends. Dawn my wife said let’s

go up and see him, so when I talked to him again last Thursday I let him know that I would be up Monday to see him. He said he would like that. Later that night I felt a strong urge and turned to Dawn and said, we have to go Saturday morning. On Saturday morning we made the drive and gladly surprised Ryan in his room and when Ryan began to stand up, I told him not to move I will come to him. I hugged him, held him close and told him how much I loved him. I told him how strong he was and to not give up. I let him know that no matter what happens we were there for his family and that everything would be taken care of. I truly believe that in reassuring him that Erin and the girls would be taken care of was able to bring him peace. As the day progressed his condition worsened even to the extent Erin and

I both thought we had lost him. In the early evening I just sat in there with him, holding his hand looking in his eyes. The Ryan we all loved was still in there, and his eyes let me know that. Even with all of his pain, he was still fighting. He would occasionally squeeze my hand and throw me a thumbs up. His last words to me were, “It will be ok”. I was fortunate enough to tell him goodnight and to get a good night’s sleep because I was going to make him

eggs in the morning. I joined Dawn, Erin and Vicki out in the family room where we sat and talked for a little while. All of a sudden we heard Ryan call out “Erin” through the monitor. She went in and we just waited out in the family room. She came out a little later and said he didn’t say anything while she was in there, but that she was going to go to bed. I believe Ryan knew it was almost time, and he wanted her to be with him. Two hours later I heard the worst words ever. “Brian, he’s gone…Ryan’s gone,” this could not be really happening. Erin asked me to called Diana and let her know. Diana – when I made that phone call, it was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. You are not supposed to call your best friends mom and tell her that her son just passed away. Your cry on the other end broke my heart even more. Upon Erin’s request I continued my phone calls and friend by friend it was a difficult phone call to make each time. Everyone knew a phone call in the middle of the night is not going to be good news, especially coming from me.

Spending the last moments with Ryan in his life will forever be stored away in my heart. I loved the guy like a brother, and I am glad I was with him. Erin I want to thank you again for not just being the strongest women I have ever met, but for allowing my family to share some of those precious last moments with Ryan. I am forever indebted to your family for allowing that. I look forward to you and your girls moving to Kansas City and making you a part of my family. Ryan’s legacy will continue through his two precious daughters and the great stories we all have to share.

Stu said it best, “Ryan was the strongest person in the world, quietly.”

So pal, here’s to you, you got your Saints Super Bowl, and well face it you knew you would never get a Cubs World Series. Save me a place in heaven and all I can say now is thanks for sitting down and having lunch with me.