As our family mourns the loss of Ricky Dwayne Ham, I feel it's important to speak plainly-not to stir conflict, but to speak for love, truth, and the people who were part of Ricky's life. When the obituary was published by the funeral home, it excluded someone who mattered. A brother - not by blood, but by life and by heart-who shared years of memories with Ricky and stood beside him, always.
We feel and believe that omission wasn't accidental. And while this isn't about settling scores, it's worth saying out loud: people know who showed up, and who didn't. That matters more than whose name made it onto a list.
Fred Ham, Ricky's father, understood that. He loved all his children, and he never made distinctions when it came to who was 'real' family. He loved nothing more than loading up the car with kids and grandkids for road trips to visit Ricky-shouting 'Alligator!' out the window, even when there wasn't one in sight, just to make everyone laugh. That joy, that connection, is what family actually looks like. Ricky was the heart of so many of our best memories. He gave his love generously and expected nothing in return. If he taught us anything, it's that family is measured in presence. As Zach Bryan wrote, 'Snow's still fallin', and I'm still calling your name.' Ricky was our snow-quiet, steady, and unforgettable-and now he's as close to heaven as we can get. Some stories may leave out names, but they don't change the truth. Ricky knew who loved him. And we still do. Because at the end of the day, family is family-even when it's not by blood.
