RyDawg - SGM James G. “Ryan” Sartor

Speech given by Ryan's widow:
I always thought the first time I would give a speech about Ryan would be at his retirement party. I looked forward to talking about his life and accomplishments on that day even though I hate public speaking. I was waiting for that day like I was always waiting on Ryan to come home from over seas, waiting to come home from work. Waiting for his army career to end. This year is five years since Ryan was taken from this earth. Five years of misery for those of us who loved him and are trying to figure out how to live on this earth without him. For the kids and I, he was the absolute center of our world and now our world is torn apart.

Ryan was the only relationship I was ever in. The only man I’ve ever loved  and the only one I will ever love. We were truly soulmates.

We met just down the road when we both worked at Sams club in College Station. Ryan was a department manager and I was a cashier. When our store found out we were dating, Ryan was demoted for dating a subordinate and so he decided to follow his dream to join the Army. He told me he needed to do something important with his life.

While he was away, I wrote him a letter every single day during boot camp because that was the only communication he could have and I wanted him to know he was thought of and missed. You may not know but Ryan was in boot camp during the 9/11 attacks and was sheltered from any and all media coverage of those days. He was one of the few people on earth who did not experience 9/11 in real time and a couple weeks later when he graduated boot camp his mom and I sat down with a Time magazine and walked him through the horror of that day.

In February, I flew out to his new duty station for Valentine’s Day and he told me he knew he loved me after each letter I’d written and asked me to marry him. I had no doubts and the rest is our history. We were married that June and never looked back.

Shortly after he was sent with 3rd infantry division to help with the invasion of Iraq. He was in the third humvee from the front and spent many a night sleeping in holes along the side of the road. He had zero contact with home and I’ll never forget the first letter that I received after that invasion. It was a 3x5 notecard that a reporter had given them a few seconds to write as he came through. It said” I’m okay, and I love you” the only words I ever needed to hear.

Once that deployment ended he came home and convinced me he needed to get out of the infantry or he wouldn’t make it long. He needed to be with people who had even better skills and knew what they were doing. He wanted to become a Green Beret. I was terrified but as our life usually went, he convinced me and he was right. Special Forces was the right place for him. He excelled at every position they placed him In and became a sergeant Major in 17 short years. It usually takes soldiers over 20 and through those years the men who fought next to him became our family. Every one who ever worked with Ryan came to love him. I am never shocked by people who tell me daily how Ryan inspired them, motivated them to be a better soldier, husband or father, brought them to Christ, saved their career, saved their life or was their best friend. He loved so many of you men in this room all differently but all dearly. He loved each of you but you only got a part of him.

He was my best friend and I was his. He was my soulmate and I was his. I had the honor of knowing not only the young popular roughian football star from Teague and the hard working, dedicated combat veteran but I also had the privilege of knowing the childlike prankster who spent hours hanging out with his children, the loving father who disciplined his children and taught them life lessons, I knew the husband who spent days planning trips and surprises and the passion he had for living a full life, and for hard work. I enjoyed a tender and passionate soulmate who lived to love me and who was a partner who helped me with all the little stuff and guided me through the big stuff. There was nothing better than walking into a room and having him wrap his arms around me. There was nothing the strength and love of that embrace couldn’t fix. As I survive the days now, I’d give anything to have those arms around me and tell me it’s going to be okay.

Instead there’s waiting. Waiting for the next world, waiting for peace and comfort. Waiting for the day I will feel that embrace welcoming me home and get my other half back. Waiting for the day we can say together. “I'm okay and I love you.“