Comments on: Love That Never Fades

By: Why evoking emotion brings sponsorhip ROI — Ryan Knapp - Sports, Soccer and the Digital World

Mon, 28 Feb 2011 18:55:57 +0000

[...] father, Donald Knapp, died when I was 14 years old. I couldn’t tell you his real father’s name as he left my dad’s family when they [...]

By: Danielle

Danielle — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 16:17:20 +0000

Thank you for this post, and what an awesome tribute to your dad. When I was younger, I was jealous of my friends that got to travel and do “cool” things with their parents. I’ve since realized the value of spending time with both of my parents doing “boring” things – baking with my mom, coloring or playing catch with my dad. Like you, I’ve lived abroad now and done some pretty cool things – but it’s always nice to come home and live the boring life for a while!

By: Ryan Stephens

Ryan Stephens — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 06:07:45 +0000

I love that you were able to understand in those moments how awesome that is… Though I did have some semblance of how cool it was my Dad was throwing hours of batting practice to me then it wasn’t until my senior of year of high school that was truly grateful for everything my parents have done for me. Not only is this an awesome tribute to your father, but it’s a great way to remind the rest of us how thankful we should be for our parents. I used to rush off after dinner to get on the computer, but now I relish sitting around the table and spending time with my family.

Cheers Ryan!
.-= Ryan Stephens´s last blog ..Small Business Marketing Interview =-.

By: Susan Pogorzelski

Susan Pogorzelski — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 00:36:09 +0000

Ryan,

There’s no much more I can say that isn’t an echo of the others’ comments, but again, it’s a beautiful tribute to your dad and the relationship you had with him. You know what I think is funny? People talk about all the important things in their lives — the money they earn, the trips they take, the positions they hold and the objects they can buy. But these are the memories you keep close to you, these are the moments that really matter — with the people who matter the most.

Your dad sounds like an amazing man. Undoubtedly, you’re following in his footsteps.
.-= Susan Pogorzelski´s last blog ..If the Daylight Feels Like It’s A Long Way Off =-.

By: Jenny Blake

Jenny Blake — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 23:28:35 +0000

Ryan – this post is so beautiful and touching. Thank you for sharing your story (and your dad’s) with us – I smiled when I read the part about your dad making everyone’s lives brighter throughout his life, even in the hospital. Like father like son: you truly have the same gift, and I’m lucky to know you because of it!
.-= Jenny Blake´s last blog ..SUZE ORMAN KNOWS WE EXIST!!! =-.

By: Sam Karol

Sam Karol — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 21:28:42 +0000

Ryan, this is an absolutely beautiful tribute to your father. Although I’ve been fortunate to travel the world and do some “exciting” things with my parents, it’s the “boring” things that I love the most. Watching a favorite TV show or sports team together, taking a walk around the block, or just sitting around and talking. Those are life’s precious moments. Your father sounds like an amazing guy, and although you lost him far too early, it seems like he left a lasting impact on you and taught you a lot about the person you wanted to be. Thank you for sharing these lessons with all of us!
.-= Sam Karol´s last blog ..Today, I Am Grateful For… =-.

By: Ryan

Ryan — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 21:24:40 +0000

Hi Amy,

Thanks for the kind words! I think that over the past 12.5 years since my dad passed away I’ve bawled enough for everyone in this world, so I’m glad you didn’t.

I was 14 when it happened (13 when he was first diagnosed) and it made me grow up quickly. I’ve talked to loads of other people who have had similar stories and we all remark how it made us who we are today.

Nowadays it seems that childhood is defined by the gadgets you have, or the clothes that make you, but my childhood will always remind me of play. We played sports, made up games, and enjoyed the simple act of playing, which is missing today.

And yes, punching each other in the arm is awesome. We used to call them ’911 shots’ and hit right up near the top of the chest next to the shoulder until our arms went numb. We were a simple family.

By: Amy

Amy — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 21:12:59 +0000

Hey Ryan, I’m Elisa’s sister and we’re also roomies When she told me about your post all I could think was, “I’m going to bawl when I read that”. But I didn’t. This post was very well written. Before I read that you were only 14 when you lost your father I thought that you were much older. You wrote about an amazing childhood with your father that, I thought, filled so many more years. It is heartbreaking that you lost your father but you portrayed him as this man that was happy with himself, his life and his son. Someone who took every opportunity to show that you don’t have to jet set around this world to understand how awesome it can be and how awesome punching someone in the arm can be.

I honestly think we need more dads like that in this world. Someone who gets your love with love, not vacations to Disney every year and that’s the only form of affection. Thanks for sharing something so personal and close to you. We are all better for it and I’m so happy that you finally got to give this amazing tribute to your father, he’s totally smiling on you right now