I kind of think I might do this one day.

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“Desert Runners” is supporting The Ronan Thompson Foundation during the month of June! The film follows ordinary people pushing themselves to extraordinary limits by competing in 4 ultra-marathons in the most treacherous deserts in the world.

Much like how RTF will never quit on funding for new treatments and defeating childhood cancer, these runners will never quit on their goals.

The film is available for download at http://buy.desertrunnersmovie.com/ Any amount of money you choose to spend over $9.99 will be donated to the Ronan Thompson Foundation for us to pursue our goals and fund cutting-edge childhood cancer research. Enter the code: RONAN at checkout and receive a 10% discount on the film!

If you spend over $11 you will unlock the SUPERFAN PACKAGE and get access to over 30 minutes of bonus content including interviews with the director, cinematographer, executive producer and the desert runner himself Ricky Paugh.

We are so very excited to be a part of this amazing adventure.  Clink on the link below to watch and support RTF! Thank you, Desert Runners for choosing RTF as the charity to support!!

http://buy.desertrunnersmovie.com

The day you died, the day you were born and the day you died again because you were put in a urn. Happy should have been 7th birthday, my spicy Ro.

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Ronan.  I didn’t die from the fuckwad of May dates that I had to get through.  The day you died. Mother’s Day. Your birthday, which was also the day you were cremated. And the day we had your celebration of life aka a bullshit word I think I let everyone around me make up when it should have just been called “the most fucked up reason for a funeral” because that is how I really feel about it.  We went away for May.  It was as good of a trip as it could possibly be, despite the circumstances.  We went to New York and spent about a week out in the Hamptons with our dear friends who are pretty much the only reason I got through everything alright.  On the day you died, I didn’t sleep much.  I tossed and turned the night before and sent my same text that I send every single year around 3:20 in the morning to Mr. Sparkly Eyes because he was the first person I texted after you died and I’m weird with my rituals like that.  I said what I always say which is how I hope he never forgets how much you loved him.  How thankful I am for him and the role he played in your life and how I will never forget how above and beyond he went for you and continues to do so in this life now.  He called me a few hours later and I ran outside, barefoot so I could talk to him without waking up the entire house.

“Are you o.k.? That is a stupid question. I know you are not.”

I told him it was ok, that I was as o.k. as I could possibly be. I didn’t cry this year when he called for some reason.  I just let his words sink in and took his advice which was basically, “You don’t get to stay in bed today because that is not fair to Ronan or your other kids, so go out and do something.” I told him I would and I listened again as he told me how sorry he was.  I thanked him for calling and told him to please go and do something for you today, besides work.  He said that he would.

We spent the majority of the day, outside in the cooler temps by the ocean.  We played in the grass, rolled down hills, climbed to the top of a lighthouse, watched Poppy go to town picking flowers and ended the night by jumping in our freezing cold pool.  We were pretty much surrounded by friends the entire time we were in the Hamptons and it is because of this that our days and nights were actually filled with smiles and laughter.  Poppy kept everyone on their toes with her constant dancing to Pharrell Williams, “Happy.” A couple of years ago I know hearing this song would have thrown me right over the edge.  Now I am able to dance and sing to it and I know that is all because of her.  How can one not feel happy watching a one year old pump her little arms and rock back and forth on her chubby little legs to the beat of this song? Impossible even when you have an almost 4-year-old in an urn and kissing that goodnight is the closest you will ever get to kissing his little body again.

We spent your birthday in the city.  We started it off by grabbing pizza at your favorite place which is right by the Ronald McDonald House.  We then walked through the city a bit and went to see our good friend, Scott at Solving Kids’ Cancer.  Your daddy hadn’t met Scott before but they talk a lot on the phone.  I was beyond excited for the two of them to meet because 1)Scott is amazing and 2) They remind me a lot of each other. Of course they hit it off and seeing the two of them together made me smile on your beautiful day. I stepped out of our “meeting” and ran across the street to meet up with a favorite editor of mine in the literary world.  It was so good to hug her and catch her up on this book/life/fuck cancer/she couldn’t believe it was your 7th birthday.  She was so good about checking in with me to see that I was alright the entire time we were together. Our time together was so nice and I was so glad I got to introduce her to your daddy since he hears me talk about her so much.

After our impromptu meetings, we continued to do all your favorite things in the city.  Poppy took the streets by storm of course and I did my best to let her have a little freedom, while trying to keep her safe from getting run over by the crazy NYC taxis.  It was the first time in my life that I understood why those parents put their kids on leashes; because I totally wished I had one that day.  Instead, I chased your sister down the sidewalks as she took off without looking back at all and after a minute I would have to grab her from behind, pick her up to keep her out of harms way, all while she screamed bloody murder for me to put her down.  She seems to have turned a corner since turning one and I’m not sure there is any going back.  Miss Independent EXTRA spicy Poppy it is.  I, of course wouldn’t have it any other way.

We walked as much of the city as we could.  Stopped for a little pit stop in Central Park so Poppy could actually do some real running.  I plopped down in the grass, exhausted from a beyond mentally exhausting day.  Your brothers ran all about and your daddy took your sister to play on the playground while I stayed behind, laying in the grass and looking up at the sky.  After about 10 minutes, all the tears I had been holding back came pouring out and I just gave in and let them, not caring who would see.  My little, Rachel, came walking over soon after as she had been trying to find us in the park.  Just in time for me to bury my head in her lap while telling her, “I haven’t been very spicy today” as the snot dripped out of my nose and tears plopped out of my eyes and on to her jeans. She stroked my hair and said it was alright.  I cried for a few minutes more and then got up to decorate the most beautiful tree with a ton of your Ronan bracelets.  I had to do something spicy, so I climbed up the tree and sat there for a bit.  I can’t remember the last time I’ve climbed a tree and I wonder why.  It was lovely up there and so something you would have done.  At this time, it was getting dark so we parted ways with Rachel and ended up back at your favorite pizza place, one last time.  We had one last thing to do which was our random act of kindness so we bought a ton of gift cards at the pharmacy next door and I took your brothers and marched my little butt right back into that Ronald McDonald House where we spent so much time.  I told them I wanted to drop them off to give out to the family’s that were staying there.  I had a flashback of you in the lobby there, right when we arrived and you were wearing your cute little warm hat, standing on the luggage carrier giving me the biggest smile as if you trusted me with your life because you knew I was going to get you better and fix all of this.  I’ll never forget the look in your eyes as they sparkled so bright and were full of such hope, trust and love.  I’m so sorry that you will never get to be 7 and instead you will be always almost 4. I’m so fucking sorry.

Ending this now with some words I read a while ago and I like to read them again when everything seems to be lost in the world, but I know it’s not because once upon a time, you were mine and I was yours.  You always will be mine, even if you are not here but somewhere else where I know I will see you again.  I wish knowing that made things hurt less, Ronan.  Sometimes this pain is all too much.

I miss you.  I love you.  I hope you are safe.

On this day, you read something that moved you and made you realise there were no more fears to fear. No tears to cry. No head to hang in shame. That every time you thought you’d offended someone, it was all just in your head and really, they love you with all their heart and nothing will ever change that. That everyone and everything lives on inside you. That that doesn’t make any of it any less real.

That soft touches will change you and stay with you longer than hard ones.

That being alone means you’re free. That old lovers miss you and new lovers want you and the one you’re with is the one you’re meant to be with. That the tingles running down your arms are angel feathers and they whisper in your ear, constantly, if you choose to hear them. That everything you want to happen, will happen, if you decide you want it enough. That every time you think a sad thought, you can think a happy one instead.

That you control that completely.

That the people who make you laugh are more beautiful than beautiful people. That you laugh more than you cry. That crying is good for you. That the people you hate wish you would stop and you do too.

That your friends are reflections of the best parts of you. That you are more than the sum total of the things you know and how you react to them. That dancing is sometimes more important than listening to the music.

That the most embarrassing, awkward moments of your life are only remembered by you and no one else. That no one judges you when you walk into a room and all they really want to know, is if you’re judging them. That what you make and what you do with your time is more important than you’ll ever fathom and should be treated as such. That the difference between a job and art is passion. That neither defines who you are. That talking to strangers is how you make friends.

That bad days end but a smile can go around the world. That life contradicts itself, constantly. That’s why it’s worth living.

That the difference between pain and love is time. That love is only as real as you want it to be. That if you feel good, you look good but it doesn’t always work the other way around.

That the sun will rise each day and it’s up to you each day if you match it. That nothing matters up until this point. That what you decide now, in this moment, will change the future. Forever.

That rain is beautiful.

And so are you.

 

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Taylor, you will forever have my heart. Thank you for continuing to be such a voice for these kids. I love you.

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http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/03/24/taylor-swift-visits-cancer-patients_n_5021039.html

Read. Listen. And never say these words to someone who has lost a child. I’ve heard them all way too many times.

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http://stillstandingmag.com/2014/01/6-things-never-say-bereaved-parent/

What birthday?? Let’s run a marathon instead, fucker.

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Ronan.  Today didn’t start out extra hard, but that is how it has ended up.  So much has been going on.  Too much, I suppose.  I made it through my birthday as best I could.  It it any surprise that I didn’t feel like celebrating?  I just wanted the day and night to be over as quickly and painlessly as possible.  I didn’t even let your daddy buy me a birthday gift and he is still talking about it, today.  He’s begged me over and over to please let him buy me some pretty earrings.  He knows if he goes out does it himself, I’ll just return them.  Pretty earrings won’t bring you back and that is still all I want.  NEWSFLASH PEOPLE, I STILL WANT MY DEAD SON BACK AND TIME HAS NOT MADE THE YEARNING FOR HIM GO AWAY.  I still beg for him every single day.  So sorry to disappoint some of you who seem to think because of this thing called time, that my wanting my son back will just disappear.  That because Poppy is here, she magically makes all my pain and sadness something of the past.  She doesn’t.  Yes, she brings back such wholesome goodness into our lives, but my pain is still here and just as present as before.  I sat with your Sparkly for a while on my birthday because it’s a tradition of mine now, 4 years in the making.  I sat across from him as he said, “What did I say, to make you cry on your birthday?” as he watched me wipe my eyes from behind my glasses. I told him that it wasn’t anything that he had said, that I just missed you so much and my birthday seemed to make me miss you that much more. He said he knew and how sorry he was and did his usual, I wish he were here, too. I came home and threw myself into bed for a few hours in the middle of the day and woke up to a pillow soaked with tears that I don’t remember crying, but the black mascara was evidence enough that they had been there.  I survived my birthday but birthdays to me will never be the same again as they just make me very, very sad.

After my very unbirthday, I’m not celebrating a thing, I had to get ready for that bitch of a marathon that I said I was running.  I didn’t really train at all except if you count going for some runs here and there, training. In my mind, I train for a mother fucking marathon everyday by just doing life.  I talked our Bri Bri into doing it with me as well.  She didn’t train at all either but I told her at 19 years old, you can do anything in the world, including running 26.2.  We got up that morning in preparation for the day.  I made us a little food, and we whispered in the dark about how excited we were to run this thing.  I took out a Sharpie and did my usual writing of your name everywhere I could.  I told Bri I was going to do her arms and she could do mine for a little extra running motivation.  I wrote, “Ronan” down one arm and of course “F U CANCER” down the other.  I handed her the Sharpie and told her to do my arms next.  I looked down at my arms after she was done.

RONAN was written perfectly on my right arm and I looked down at my left arm to see the word, “FUCKER” written in huge, black letters on my left arm.

“BRI! You wrote “Fucker” on my arm!” My whispers were no longer whispers.

“I know!” she said.  “I thought that’s what you wrote on my arm!”

“No! I wrote F U CANCER!”

We both were doubled over, laughing hysterically for a good five minutes before we could compose ourselves.  There was nothing I could do about it as the sharpie was not coming off and the car that was picking us up to drop us off, had arrived.  I decided just to roll with the word FUCKER down my arm and to see what added fun it might bring to the day.  Besides, cancer is the biggest fucker anyway.

We got downtown to meet up with my dear childhood friend, Laura who came into to town to run the marathon as she actually trained.  I had a sweatshirt on but told her the fucker story anyway to stop her from crying.  It is an emotional thing to do a marathon for the first time, and on top of that add the reason that you are doing it is for your childhood besties, dead son… well, game over.  Laura was officially a wreck but the fucker story definitely made her laugh and I think she had an even better time, calling me fucker throughout the marathon.  So did the spectators on the street.  The entire marathon I heard, “GO FUCKER, GO!!!” or “F U CANCER” or “GO RONAN!” as that is what we had on on the back of our shirts.  I got asked who you were and I always said, “My son.” I didn’t say, “My son who died of cancer,” because to me that is not who you are and I won’t let that define you.  I was doing pretty well in the marathon until about mile 17 and that was pretty much it.  I hit that invisible wall that you hear people in the marathon world, talk about.  I started walking, grabbed a gatorade that a lady was handing out on the side of the wall and chugged that thing like it was the last drink I was ever going to have.  I waited for my friend, Katie to catch up to me where we walked/jogged/begged for the finish line.  Bri met back up with me at mile 21 and somehow, we crossed the marathon line together, holding hands.  I’ve never been more proud of my sissy in my life.  She is such a little badass in training and I am so honored to be showing her the ropes.

I wanted to also take a second on here to thank all of you who supported me in the marathon by donating, volunteering, cheering or running yourselves.  It wasn’t just Ronan I thought about while doing this, but you all as well.  You kept me going when all I wanted to do was take the short cut, call it a day, and run back to my house.  I love you all so much for never giving up on me and for pushing me to do really hard things, just so I can remind myself that I am capable of overcoming all of the odds even on the days were I still do just want to crumble up and die.  You remind me to get back up and fight harder than I ever have before.  So thank you, from the bottom of my heart for keeping me going as I try my hardest to change this for these other kids who deserve so much better than what they are getting tossed their way.

Oh, back to today and how it was a really, really, really fucking hard day.  So hard, that I am too tired to write about it now, Ro baby.  It was just one of those days where I really felt like I had the wind knocked out of me because I just miss you so very much.  I have to get back to this book writing now.  I’ll try to check in with you in a few days.

I miss you.  I love you.  I hope you are safe.  Sweet dreams, baby boy.

xoxo

For all of you out of state peeps…

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You all are the sweetest for wanting to send stuff.  Thank you so much!!

If you would like to contribute to the Candy Cart, you can send your items to our P.O. Box.  The address is:

P.O.Box 44935

Phoenix, Arizona

85064-4935

 

For all my Arizona peeps…

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These 2 “elfs” are requesting unwrapped gifts for The Ronan Thompson Foundation Candy Cart. If you visit Garage Boutique for Kids, Nove’, or High Point this holiday season, please bring in an unwrapped toy to receive 15% off your entire purchase.  These toys will be used for Ronan’s Candy Cart when we visit Phoenix Children’s Hospital.

Thank you and happy shopping!!!

xx

 

 

 

Did I mention I’m running another marathon without training?!?! Here is my shameless plug.

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https://fundly.com/run-for-ronan

https://www.facebook.com/theronanthompsonfoundation

This time last week, we posted a thank you for sharing Ronan’s story and getting over 40,000 followers for our page. We asked if people would consider donating to our current campaign, the Rock N Roll marathon challenge. You guys came through for us, donating over $1,000.

But we still have a long way to go in order to get to $100,000. And we only have a short time in which to reach that goal.

Today we are asking for people to sponsor Maya. Yes, that zany girl is doing another marathon with NO TRAINING! She says if Ronan and these kids can go through horrific cancer treatments, she can certainly run a marathon without training. And if she can run 26.2 miles with no training (not long after giving birth, no less)…I think we should sponsor her and get her to her personal fundraising goal of $10,000!

We are not asking anyone to give who isn’t able to. We are only asking that you consider doing what you can. If you can skip a couple Starbucks and donate $10, we love you. If you’re independently wealthy and can sponsor $10,000 without blinking…we love you AND we’re a little jealous.

To sponsor Maya directly, please donate to her fundraising page:
https://fundly.com/m2/run-for-ronan

Unfortunately the minimum donation is $10 and we could not get it lowered. But if you think “only” $10 won’t do anything, please reconsider! If only 25% of our followers here gave $10, that would fund our entire $100,000 campaign. We need you to help us raise this money for desperately necessary research toward pediatric cancer. We are so thankful for all of you and we know that once again, you will come through for us.

Perks! Everyone loves perks!
Anyone sponsoring Maya will get their name on a special page on our site highlighting Maya’s sponsorship team!

A randomly chosen person who makes a sponsorship pledge for Maya today will also get a video thanks from her and a special thank you gift.

Only Eddie Vedder could drink wine on a stage and make it look badass.

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Ronan.  Do I usually have this hard of a time, every year, right before the holidays? I think so, but to know so, I’d have to go back and read my blogs from the past years.  I’ve been doing enough reading of my blogs due to this book writing and I don’t feel like going back to read about the holiday seasons and how hard they have been for me every year since you left.  Every day is hard without you, but this time of the year there seems to be a shift about me that I cannot control.  Everything feels extra heavy, hard, sad, and the slightest things take up every ounce of energy I have just to get through the day.  I have been getting through the days alright really; I suppose.  That is actually a big fat lie.  I’ve been a fucking mess, but hiding it pretty well.  I’ve learned to become the ultimate pain hider.  I have learned to be present, to smile when all I want to do is cry, to be productive when all I want to do is curl up in my bed for a week, and to throw myself into things that take a lot of work, but the work leaves me distracted.  Oh, I’ve also been taking the best care ever of your Poppy sister 24/7.

I may have lost it last week which left me doing my normal screams and crying to your Mr. Sparkly Eyes.  “I think I’m having a mid-life crisis.” “Why the fuck did this happen?” “I talked to George Clooney last night and I’m going to run off with him.” (inside joke, but I really did freaking talk to George Clooney thanks to one Fairy Bad Ass RoMo) And my all time favorite, “Where is Ronan and who is taking care of him?”  I got sat down and talked to in the harshest but kindest way.  I was told I was in fact not having a mid life crisis, that everything I am feeling is just due to losing you which I of course already knew, but it was nice to hear it from a rational person.  “Listen, I cannot even fathom what you have gone through and will go through for the rest of your life.  I hurt badly from this and I only get to feel this on a small scale compared to you.  You have to carry this around with you forever, while the ones who cared about Ronan, your family, your friends, get to go on with their lives.  You don’t.  I cannot imagine what that must feel like for you.  But you are doing such amazing things and even if you can’t see it now, you are changing the world because of him and because of your pain.” I sat, listened, and fought back my tears the entire time that I was with him.  I let his words soak in and lick my wounds for a while.  “Tell me what I can do for you. Please.” I looked down at the floor and thought for a bit.  My list came in my mind later as I named off a few things, but really just thanked him for being such a dear friend.  He said some more things to me that I won’t repeat, but left me saying, “How do you know that?  How do you know everything?  Nobody knows that.  Does Ronan talk to you and tell you these things?”  I honestly think you do, Ronan.  There is no other way to explain how that man knows the darkest parts of my soul and heart, yet he is not afraid.  You only left me with the best and for that, I will always be thankful.  I sat quietly and watched as he bounced your baby sister on his lap and kissed her up and down.  She is so lucky to have him as her Godfather, to love and look after her.  I know he will keep her safe.

I’m full fledged in the middle of writing this book.  I told your daddy if I had a month, uninterrupted, I could finish it, easily.  The problem I’m facing is I may have too much material, and too much to say.  Go figure.  I’ve been writing about your treatment, which has been hard.  Reliving the things you went through, has not been fun and it’s not what I want this book to be about, so I’ve been trying to make this section, as short as possible.  This book writing has left me not sleeping or eating well and may be part of the reason why I feel like I’m no the verge of a breakdown.  I just keep telling myself, I’ve got to just get though this part, but it’s not like I have anything to look forward to next as I will just be writing about your death.  Fucking cancer.

As far as an update goes, things here for the most part have been normal.  Your brothers are playing a slew of sports 24/7.  Basketball, Baseball, and Flag Football.  I, of course, look for you on every field and on every team.  It still blows my mind that you are never there.  I know for a fact that you would be playing all the sports that your brothers are and dominating in every way.  You were always are mini Pat Tillman who was going to rule the world.  Poppy is developing such a little personality and at 7 months, is already trying to walk.  She has been keeping me on my toes and the determination that I see in her eyes reminds me so much of you.  My days are mostly spent taking care of her while continuing to fight for you and all that was stolen from us.  I’ve been hiking like crazy, with Poppy in tow of course.  She loves it and usually just falls asleep the entire time.  It’s our peaceful time to spend with you and the small time out of my day that I try to take for myself to be with my grief/plot how I’m going to take over this fucked up world.  I went to the Pearl Jam concert a few nights ago with your daddy, Uncle Jay, and Char.  Sometimes all you need in life is a little Eddie Vedder to remind you of who you really are.  I love that man and the concert was unreal.  By far one of the best ones I’ve been to.  Eddie Vedder will forever be one of my idols in life as I appreciate so much how he just lives his life the way he wants, with no apologies.  He just is who he is.  Not to mention the fact that he is deliciously handsome, insanely talented, and I could just stop and melt right here.  It was a great night, to say the least.  Pearl Jam ended the concert with “Keep On Rocking In The Free World,” and of course I sang along as loudly as I could while I thought of you the entire time.  I miss you so much, Ro.

Time to go, little man.  It’s raining like crazy here today.  I miss you.  I love you.  I hope you are safe.

xoxo

P.S. For those of you who have been trying to order some things on our Big Cartel site, I SO apologize.  We have been dealing with some *cough cough* technical difficulties.  It is being worked on and will be re launched soon as we also have a new foundation logo to unveil.  Our seal needed a little make-over and update.  I’ll keep you posted on when things are ready.  Thanks as always for your love and support.

Thank you all for your amazing hearts and spicy souls.

 

 

 

 

 

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Because of you all, the Spicy Monkey Spirit Hood was the company’s largest launch that they have ever had. Thank you all so much for buying them and making this venture so successful. Please continue to share this video with anyone and everyone. The more people who see it, the better. I love you all so much.

xx

 

 

http://vimeo.com/78844347

  • Instagram is my BFF

    My little campers had another boy/girl dance last night at camp. I'm guessing there was a lot of standing around and ignoring the girls. I'll keep them that way for as long as possible! #ronan #fucancer #littlestuds #justsaynotogirls #nokissingallowed #thisisthefreakingcutestthingever #boysrule #missthemsomuch Wise words Wednesday. #ronan #fucancer #wisewordswednesday #truth #fsu @brimelone Pearl is really regretting last nights decisions and the fact that she is grounded from the car. #pearl #ronan #fucancer #regretful #walkofshame #pearlishungover #pearlisgrounded #blacksheep #getyourshittogetherpearl
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