Today, I write in gratitude for the pain you inflicted upon me and my family.

We came to you in a time of extreme need and trusted Garside Monuments to install Dad’s gravestone, a beautiful bench design picked out by Mom. We paid you, and well. While Dad died in November 2022, we still do not have a gravestone for Dad today¹, in March 2024, because of your fraud.

I remember when your lawyer pushed papers on my mom, newly a widow, insisting that your repayment be made on a timeline that worked best for his surgery recovery. Both he and the judge left out the fact that signing that paper would relieve you of needing to pay us interest. When I snapped at him, and he tried to make me feel that I was the one out of line, something clicked for me that needed to; I found a latent courage. I would not have been able to stand up to the people to whom I have had to, this past year, had you not made your greed my problem.

It was not my idea to thank you. I don’t know many people, even among the most devout Christians, who would without some serious spiritual nudging. Because of your lies, I have not had the closure my family imagined together in those final evenings. I have not sat with Dad like I imagined, telling him about my day accompanied by the squeaking of local forest miscreants. But in the absence of a single place to go, I have rediscovered Dad’s presence all around me – living today in memory, and living forever in Jesus Christ. You can bet Dad is still riding that high. Any chats we might have had through the gravestone pale in comparison to the sonorous discussions we now share in the presence of God. A feeling of love here, a song lyric there, and planes – my family loves when he flies overhead with Grandpa, Kyle, and Rev. Sweet.

This is a polished version of my letter. The first words were ugly. It was not my grace that transformed your despicable decision’s impact into one of peace and hope. I needed to borrow that grace, and I’m looking to borrow more still. I have often imagined how I could get away with making you feel what you did to me. What a relief to discover that I don’t have to. Bringing you to justice is not my responsibility but the charge of a Higher Power. No lawyer in the world can get you out of that Judgment. 

You sought to make a quick buck and then – well, it was never really clear what you planned to do after. Perhaps there was no plan. Maybe you needed the money to stave off a threatening debt collector or to feed a gambling spree. Whatever the cause, I know what emptiness you must have felt to arrive at the dark place you did. What a painful world you must live in to think this was your only choice. I used to live there, too. And one day, when God has fully washed us both of our sins, I hope to meet you in a world that neither of us is worthy of by themselves.

Yours in Grace,

Ryan

1. I wrote this letter hours before finding out that Dad’s bench has now, finally, been installed ❤ ↩︎