I’ll say this over and over again until the day I die. I am so lucky that I found her. She is hands down, one of the most amazing women I’ve ever known. I hope one day my heart will be as full and as beautiful, as hers.
I’ll say this over and over again until the day I die. I am so lucky that I found her. She is hands down, one of the most amazing women I’ve ever known. I hope one day my heart will be as full and as beautiful, as hers.
Posted by rockstarronan on July 21, 2012
Ronan. This solitude thing… it’s alright. It’s necessary. I’m doing it as much as possible. As much as I can for still being among the living, while really being dead. That’s what I feel like lately. It’s o.k. It’s part of this process for me. For as much as I’m checking out, I am still checking in when I can with the people who love me the most. With the people who I love the most too. I’ve been spending most of the days, solo. Hiking for many hours. Trying to be mindful of the way I’m feeling and not trying to distract with busy, busy things. There is a time for that. It’s not now. Right now, it’s time to check in with myself and that’s about it. Right now is not the time for the business that usually consumes me. Thinking about the past few days I know a lot of things have gone on. I woke up this morning to an empty house due to your brothers staying the night at your Mimi and Papa’s. They were going to be gone all day long which I knew was more than I could handle… you know, the whole being home alone until the evening. I woke up and thought, “Fuck. This is not going to be a good day, if you are home until 5 or 6 tonight, in this quiet, empty house. I threw some things in a bag and headed out the door. I sent Dr. Jo a text that simply said, “Coming up there for the day to go hiking.” Up there being Sedona. Why not? It sounded like the perfect thing to do instead of a sad/lonely day at home. She told me to just come to her house when I got up there and we would go hiking, together. Even better.
I arrived around 11 to the one place that now feels like one of the safest places in the world to me. A place that fills me with solace and gratitude. The comfort of Dr. JoRo’s house and that beautiful place of Sedona that she lives. I am no fool. Without her I am quite sure I would not still be here. I’m not too proud to admit that she has pretty much saved my life. In a weird way I feel like she’s been waiting for me for a long time. Or rather, we’ve been waiting for each other. I’m quite sure we were supposed to meet in this life. Just fucking sucks it had to be this way. I’m just thankful I found her when I did because if I did not, I am sure I would be in a mental ward, doped up on 20 different drugs, because don’t you know, a pill makes everything better/go away. Fucking emotionally irresponsible bullshit that medication thing is. More on that later…
Dr. JoRo grabbed her expert friend/neighbor in all things Sedona/nature/trails to take us on a little adventure. It was a good 2 hour hike where we talked but in a quiet/respectful way. It as nice as nice can possibly feel. Much better than being at home, lifeless, in bed where everything hurts so much that I think the pain alone is actually going to kill me. We returned to her house where I gave her one last hug before she leaves for her trip to NYC. So wish I were going with her. Missing our favorite big city so much. After I left Jo’s I decided I was not ready to go home yet. I drove through Sedona to go on my own hike, with my non existent map. I found myself hiking through the trees, fighting with a lot of sticker bushes/ branches, and scaling the side of some huge rock to perch myself up on a cliff where I settled into a couple of hours of reading/writing/sitting with your blanket while the hot sun poured down on my shoulders. My own therapy for the day, I guess. I left Sedona and drove way too fast with the music blaring way too loud during the entire drive back to Phoenix. I let myself get lost in the world of Pearl Jam for a while which always makes me drive faster/miss you so much more.
I came home and your brothers were still gone. I jumped in the shower and decided I would meet Rita for a dangerous night out. We went to see “The Hunger Games.” This was totally dangerous for 3 reasons. 1) I never go to movies anymore. I have a hard time sitting still. 2) We went to some totally sketchy theatre (o.k. so not really… just downtown phoenix) 3) We went to “The Hunger Games.” A movie about kids killing kids. Or kids dying. Or if you have a dead kid, you should maybe not watch this movie. I didn’t really think about this, going into it. I didn’t really think about it until there was a scene where a little girl dies and they do such a good job making you feel it that I actually felt like I was the girl in the movie, kissing your lips for one last time and crying out like a mother who just lost her child. Feeling like the mother that I am who watched you die. I know what happens. I actually know what it really feels like in real fucking life and not just by watching it on a movie screen. Rita grabbed my hand and asked if I was o.k. I nodded yes as the hot tears slid down my cheeks. She held my hand until the scene was over and then asked if I wanted to leave. I told her no, that I was alright. I lied, but I really wanted to see the ending. It was a pretty good/entertaining in a Lord of the Flies kind of way, movie. One that I’m sure I would have loved before losing you because the reality of it would have never touched me, right? Yeah right. So we all walk through life, thinking. So thankful I don’t have that problem anymore, Ro. So thankful that I get to have you dead so I no longer know that I or anyone around me is immune to death. I fucking knew that before you. I talk to Jo a lot about how I always had a feeling that you were not going to be mine, forever. How I was never worried about you learning how to count to 100, how I never pushed education stuff on you the way I did with your brothers. I tell her I was always so happy and thankful for the exact moments we lived in. Not the next day moments. Not even the future. Just the present. Just when you were mine and I was yours in that exact second of the day. It made for the best/funnest life in the world. It made for the happiest life I’ve ever felt by just being with you. JUST BEING. There were no expectations. Everything was so pure and organic and real. It was just us and we really did whatever you wanted. You wanted to wash your trucks outside, naked, in the mud? Done. You wanted to rub your little dirty muddy hands all over our windows? Done. You wanted to spray our sliding glass doors with the hose? Totally! You wanted to color on them too? Alright! You want to stab our leather couch with a pen and make big holes in it, big deal, Ro. You were leaning/exploring/pushing boundaries the way you should have been. I was never going be the one to contain you creative mind. A mind that always seemed so much wiser than even mine. You knew what you were here to do. I truly believe that. I know you are still here, baby doll. It’s just the physical part of you that I miss so much.
Ronan. Holy shitballs I think I hate Easter. Actually, I don’t think I hate Easter, I know I hate Easter. Easter without you this year, sucked balls. And not in a good way. We didn’t celebrate Easter at all this year. We celebrated Feaster instead and it was awesome, for being not awesome. We spent the weekend hanging around the house. I cooked a Brisket and and taught your brothers about all things Passover. You cannot have a proper Feaster, without a little religion. So, we talked a lot about Passover and what it means. We went to our own church on Sunday which was in Sedona, at Oak Creek Canyon. We spent Sunday hiking, getting dirty, playing in the water and your daddy even jumped off the side of a cliff. We spent Sunday doing all things that you would have loved. I tried to have the best day possible by getting lost in the world of your brothers who seemed to have a wonderful time. I’m not going to lie. It was an exhausting day, for being as relaxing and peaceful as it was. There was not a better way for us to spend the day, but it was still brutal to spend our first/last holiday with you, without you. I was glad when the day was over and I was able to lay down and fall into my Ambien induced coma. I didn’t have a choice. Sometimes I just have all I can take during the day and fighting with my sleep last night would have thrown me over the edge. I fell into a black oblivion instead.
So, today is 11 months of fuckery. I spent it alone, on a mountain and at the car wash. I found myself at the car wash today and looking back now, as I sit here writing tonight, I can actually laugh at myself and the shit that happens to me on a daily freaking basis. Case in point, victim one today, Danny’s car wash dude.
-Danny’s car wash dude- “How was your Easter, Miss?
DCWD- “Really? Why?”
Me- “Because I have a dead kid. Because my son is dead.” -insert flow of snot/tears here/dripping everywhere
DCWD- uncomfortable silence, “Ummm… what? Really? Well, um…. o.k. Well, are you o.k.? Like for real? Because you don’t seem o.k.
Me- “Oh my gosh. Um, yeah, totally o.k., I’ll really be fine.”
DCWD- “O.k… do you want your floor mats washed?”
Me- “Yeah, please. Thank you so much.”
You know what else happened? For the first time today, when some other dude at Danny’s Car Wash asked me how many kids I had, I said 2! I about threw up. I went to correct my mistake, but I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth and I did not feel like explaining myself because I knew I would end up in hysteria. So, I freaked out in my head instead and just walked away, in a daze. That’s when I was approached by the other guy and that’s when the “I had a shitty Easter and I have a dead kid,” came flying out of my mouth. I am surprised I was able to drive my car after that whole incident today. I came home, threw myself in our bed, and sobbed. Then I put on my clothes and went inferno hiking in the hot, hot heat of the day. After my inferno hike, I came home, showered and picked up your brothers from school. I took them for a snack and off to the batting cages where we practiced baseball and all things fun. I didn’t know trying to have fun, would be so freaking hard Ronan. I just want to bury my head in the sand. But I continue to keep trying, for the sake of them and nothing else. Because those little boys’ deserve to have a mom who has not checked out, for as much as I want to, I just can’t. We came home and I was so tired. I helped them with their homework and after having all I could take, I found myself in my freaking bed, once again. Crying. This time, Quinn found me. He cuddled up next to me, and asked me what was wrong. I told him I just missed you. He sat with me as I cried for a few minutes (no mom guilt here at all) and I then made myself get up. We spent the rest of the evening at Uncle Jay’s house (lifesaver) swimming, eating pizza, and watching the Suns game. Thank GOD for that Uncle Jay of yours. Your daddy joined us and this shitty 11 month day is coming to an end.
I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of being sad. I’m tired of all of this shit in this fucking crazy world. It truly is insane, Ronan. I cannot watch the news/read the paper because of all the things that I just cannot believe are going on. Some lady flushed her baby down a toilet. Facebook just bought Instagram for a Billion dollars. Everyone and their mothers are getting their own “reality” shows. Nothing out there, makes sense to me. It all makes me angry. None of it matters. It’s all “stuff,” getting in the way of real reality like kids dying and parents struggling to stay alive and survive. And wait… why are all these kids with cancer still dying and still being over looked? Shouldn’t this problem be getting a little better? See what happens, when I take a break? A whole lot of nothing gets done. I did hear that Mattel is going to make the bald Barbie though. I have not read the details, due to being unplugged from everything but I hope it is true.
Dr. JoRo is in NYC now. She asked for a little list of some things she could for me, during her one day off. These are the things I told her to do.
1) Run in Central Park at night. Thinking she probably will not do this.
2) Visit Sloan Kettering and kick Dr. Kushner in the balls for me. (she could totally dress up like a Ninja and do this)
3) Eat Fro Yo at 40 Carrots inside Bloomingdales. (this might be a little safer and was one of our favs)
4) Eat Pizza at Delizia’s for us. (another one of our favs)
I miss her so much already. She is not a very big fan of our favorite little city. I am doing my best to make her into a New Yorker, without being there to actually do it. Next time:)
Alright baby boy. This is all for tonight. Yes, I’m still in hiding and I have still been hiking every single day for our month of mother fucking madness. And today, I was EXTRA dangerous and did not wear sunscreen. My inner rebel was loving it. I love you. I miss you. I’m so sorry. I hope you are safe.
Posted by rockstarronan on April 9, 2012
Ronan. Well fuck. I had an entire post written and I went to update something else and it got erased. Bloody Hell, baby doll. Guess that’s how this day had to start off since it’s our first official Fucksgiving. Or Sucksgiving. Or Macegiving. Or the sweetest one of all, RoGiving. Yup. It’s here. That stupid time of year. When all of the normals out there are sitting around giving thanks on today, when they should be giving thanks every freaking day that they are alive, with their healthy kids. I know our little secret though. Our little secret about all of our darling little readers out there. Well, most of them. I’m sure there are assholes out there who read this blog and just go about their ignorant ways. We can’t save them all, Ro. I know our most beautiful lovelies are spending this Sucksgiving, differently, because they are all thinking about you. And how truly blessed they really are. I know none of them are ungrateful and I know they are living each and every day, to the fullest, making the MOST of the messes their children make because they are so thankful to have them there to make messes. I’m not going to lie though. The thought of everyone else, getting to be extra grateful, because of you; because of us and our story, makes me sick to my stomach. It makes me sad. It stings. But it is the gift that you left behind. A gift that I am trying my hardest to be grateful for. But you know Ro, that Thanksgiving has been banned at our house this year. I have NOTHING to be grateful for. And I’m sure to some, this makes me seem like an ungrateful beoytch. But I don’t care. Because I know what the normals out there are all saying because I have been hearing it all week. “You have so much to be grateful for.” “You have the most beautiful sons and husband and friends.” Shut up, Fuckwads. I am aware of the beauty that surrounds me but that doesn’t take away the fact that you died and you don’t get to be here with us on this fucking ignorant holiday. That doesn’t change the fact that all I want to do today is survive because I made a promise to our Mr. Sparkly Eyes and to Dr. JoRo that I intend on keeping only because I keep my promises. And I won’t break them to those two because they are walking this dark walk with me and will never turn away, no matter how painful it may be. And yes, because of your Daddy and your brothers. That is a given and never even needs to be said. So Fucksgiving is here. And I cannot wait for it to be over.
I’m so sorry I have not written is so long. I have been so busy. So tired by the end of the day, that I have been crawling into bed at night and passing out. Without the Devil Ambien. Passing out from mental exhaustion. Macy is here. I know you know that. She got here on Friday, so she has been here almost a week. She is sleeping in your room. Can she just move in with us, please? New York Miss Macy makes everything better. EVERYTHING. You know, Ro. I know we have only known Macy for just about a year but FUCK…. she is one of the biggest gifts to come of this bloody nightmare. I’ll never forget the first time we met her and when she came bursting through the doors of the Ronald McDonald House from the cold streets of New York with her big eyes, just like yours. Her sweet smile, long flowing hair, and her arms full of gifts for you and your brothers. You were always so leery of strangers, but you fell in love with New York Miss Macy within seconds. I watched your little eyes light up as this stranger chased you around and had you giggling within minutes. I watched the way that I was able to forget that you were indeed, my very sick child. It was pure magic. It was so natural. It was true love. New York Miss Macy stayed with us the entire time we were in NYC and helped take care of you. NY Miss Macy, moved away to San Francisco and when we had to go to that city, to look into a treatment for you, it was her that you could not wait to see. New York Miss Macy came here before you passed away, to spend some time with you before you left. New York Miss Macy, came back for your funeral. New York Miss Macy is here now, for Sucksgiving, because she knows I would not be surviving this, without her. New York Miss Macy has spent all week with me, your Daddy, and your brothers. She has been cleaning, doing laundry, making beds, rubbing backs, pouring dish soup in the dishwasher by accident which has caused a never-ending soapy mess which has left me in giggles. She has laughed with me, cried with me, and listened to me while I scream, cuss, and stab food to death. She went up to Sedona with me for the day to see Dr. JoRo. We spent the day talking with Jo. We all went on a barefoot hike. Macy provided the entertainment by trying to barefoot hike with us, but she could only stand the pain for so long. Dr. Jo and I cracked up at the way she winced in pain with every step. She was a trooper for even trying. Macy drove us home from Sedona as I was so exhausted from the day that I could barely keep my eyes open. She was just as tired as she spent much of the day, crying with me. She is doing exactly what I need her to be doing, Ronan, and I haven’t even had to ask or tell her. New York Miss Macy is walking through the dark side, with me. New York Miss Macy is just letting me be. New York Miss Macy has never left. New York Miss Macy, is not running away because she does not know what to do with me. New York Miss Macy is not just our friend, Ronan. She is our family. Do you know what she did this morning, on FUCKING FUCKSUCKINGCOCKSUCKING Sucksgiving? She had a surprise for us. Yesterday, she had our Mandy Bee help her run an errand so she could do something for us today, for you. She went out and found the most beautiful purple tree for us to plant in our backyard. She wrote us the sweetest card that I could hardly read because just seeing the tears pour out of her eyes, said it all. She is that thoughtful and her heart is so big that it is capable of taking this sad, sad, house and filling it with a love that everybody feels, even with your absence. On everyday but today, because I am banning this holiday, I am so thankful for that girl. The girl that some people tried to tell me, would go away, after all of this was over because she “chose,” to inject herself into our “situation.” Macy did not choose to inject herself into anything. You chose her for me, Ronan. You chose her because I think you always knew, it would be her that would be the one to help to save me. I always knew it too. I always knew that Macy would not up and forget us, or you. I was a first hand witness of how the love for you, shined through her eyes. How it still does. How it always will. That will never change. If anything, it will just become stronger. So, here we are today. Still in our pajamas with the football on, your brothers running around the house, Macy curled up on the couch, reading a magazine. The perfect family. Almost, baby. Almost.
Yesterday, Ronan. I am glad yesterday is over. Guess what I had happen to me for the first time? I woke up from my sleep with an excitement that filled my entire body. I sprung out of bed, my feet hit the floor, and I got about 10 steps in as I was headed to your room, to wake you up. I had forgotten that you had died. As soon as I remembered, I fell to the floor and started to cry. I picked myself up, got into the shower and continued to cry. I got ready, while still crying. I went and called Dr. JoRo, as I couldn’t get myself under control. When I finally composed myself enough to finish the task at hand, which was packing your brothers lunches, I went about my day but I couldn’t shake the feeling from the morning. To feel that excitement, that pure bliss and then to have it all ripped away within seconds was like losing you all over again. It shook me to the core and left me in a fog for the rest of the day and night. Fucking BULLSHIT. Fucking BULLSHIT that Cancer killed you. My healthiest child. Fucking BULLSHIT that we are all stuck here, without you. Nothing will ever be enough, Ronan. Nothing will ever take away the way I yearn for you every second of the day. It is just something I will have to learn to live with. The way that Bella from Twilight (yup, Macy and I totally went to see that movie) will have to learn to live her new life as a vampire is the way I feel. Except lucky Bella. She will never have to be apart from the love of her life, Edward Cullen. Fuck. The whole time I was watching that movie I wished so badly that Vampires were real and that I was one of them and when you died, I imagined your little body laying in the bed. I imagined myself biting your body to inject you with my venom to turn your into a little Vampire, so that we would never have to be apart. I played that picture in my head, over and over again. You would have been the most beautiful vampire. Edward Cullen would have had nothing on you. If only Vampires were real. If only you just hadn’t gotten sick with Cancer and died. If only the fucking medical world would get a clue. If only Childhood Cancer, was as recognized as AIDS. If only. I have so many of them in my life now.
I have to go now Ro, baby. I have to get ready for our White Trash Chinese Eating Mustache Fucksgiving that we are going to try to have. I have to get ready to beat the shit of our 1 or our 3 pinatas. I’m so sorry you are not here. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you. I miss you so much. I hope you are safe. I will love you forever.
Posted by rockstarronan on November 24, 2011
Ronan. Holy Fucking Fall Break. Day One, down. I remember, when you were still alive, how I thought it was crazy that schools had a Fall Break. Didn’t your brothers, just start back to school? What is this Fall Break madness? I remember feeling the pressure of wondering how I would keep all 3 of you, entertained, for a whole week. What I wouldn’t give to have that worry back now. It was not a worry at all. How did I even think that it was? What was wrong with me? How did I think that something like that, was an actual problem? It’s because I lived in the make-believe problem/worry world before all of this. In a world that was so simple and perfect, that I had to make things up, to complain about. Like the Arizona heat, like not getting enough sleep, like missing a workout, like not having enough time to myself. Blah, Blah, Blah. Those are not problems. Those are blessings. If I only knew then, what I know now. I would have never complained about a thing.
I spent the day with your brothers. Doing a lot of errands. I took them for haircuts, to Costco, etc…. We spent about 4 hours, running around today. They saw one of those big Halloween Costume places. They asked if we could go in. I put on a smile and told them, of course when it was secretly killing me that I had to walk in there, without you. Our first Halloween without you. We spent a good hour in that store today. They ran all around. We tried on silly costumes. They pointed out some things they thought I should be. They played with fake swords, knives, guns, blood, and all things Halloween. They both want to be characters from South Park. Remember how you used to love that show? How once you got cancer, all of life’s rules, just kind of flew out of the window? Crap. Before all of this, I would have never let my kids watch South Park. But then you got Cancer and one night, we were trying to make you laugh. To forget that you were sick. Your Daddy put on the Hanky the Poo, South Park episode. Laugher galore in a house full of cancer and sadness. Fuck what is appropriate. Because once your child gets cancer, you no longer view the world the same. And things that seem important and appropriate, are not. All that mattered is that we were all together and we were all laughing. So Kenny and Cartman they wan to be. If you were still here, I’d let you be Hanky the Christmas Poo. I wouldn’t think twice about it. You loved to sing that song so much. I have a feeling trying to find costumes to fit 8-year-old boys, after an adult Cartoon show, may be a little difficult. I’ll make them if I have to. I wanted so badly, to buy your costume today. I don’t know how I am going to get through this Halloween without you, Ro.
I spent all day, entertaining your brothers. It was work. It was hard. It was exhausting. And normally, it would not have been. It would have just been fun. It would have been crazy. We would have spent the day with friends. At a pumpkin patch. At the Train Park. At the Zoo. Or any other big adventure as long as it meant you 3 were busy, having fun, getting messy, dirty, and just being boys. Your Daddy came home around 4 and I was about to break. He let me lay in bed for a while, but the whole time, Quinn was by my side. I needed some space and your Daddy knew this. He took your brothers to play basketball and they went to dinner afterwords. I stayed home, curled up in bed, and as soon as it became dark, I headed out for my run. It’s the only place, where I can clear my head just a bit. It’s the only place where I can seem to find just a bit of clarity; whatever that means now. I ran 6 miles. I turned around at 3 and ran back home so I didn’t end up somewhere crazy, like last night.
I came home, showered, and spent the rest of the night with Quinn attached to my hip. I watched Liam play Chess. He is getting really good. I tried to spend some alone time with Liam, but Quinn is just not having it. I had to have a talk with Quinn tonight about “my world now.” I had to say things to him that were tough and made him cry. I was in his bed, trying to get him to sleep, laying with him like I do every night. He started talking about the trip I am going on this weekend. He has obsessed about it for a month now. His little brain, cannot comprehend it or understand it. Not to sound harsh, but he has been riding my ass about it for 2 weeks straight. He is making me feel really guilty for leaving. I have so much that I feel guilty for, so you’d think that this little thing would just be another little thing to throw into the pile. Add it to the list, no big deal. It’s becoming a big deal so tonight I kind of just broke. I raised my voice, which you know I don’t do often because I don’t really ever have a reason to. It’s happening more and more. I’ve explained this trip to Quinn, no less than 10 times.
I wish I could say I was going on a Girls Trip. I wish I could say, “Oh, all of my children are alive, and mommy needs a break so I’m going to Napa.” I wish I could say I was going somewhere with my husband because we are so overdue for the one week-long trip we used to take every year, together. Without kids. I wish I could say I was going somewhere cool to “find myself.” Nope. Natta. Not happening. Will never be the case again. I’m going on a Grief Retreat. Alone. A trip I would not wish on anyone. A trip I wish I never had to take. A trip I do not want to go on, but I have decided it is something that I have to do. Because I don’t know what else to do and if I don’t do something, I will crack. And much more than I already am. It’s in Sedona. I’m going up on a Friday night and coming home on Sunday. The seminar is all day Saturday and it is put on by Dr. J and a couple of other people. I’m really only going because it is something that she is involved in and I believe in her. I don’t know if this will help me and I am going without any expectations. I will be proud of myself if I can manage to be present for even part of the day. I know I am asking a lot of myself at this point in my life, but I am willing to try because I have to. Because what I am doing now is not working and if somebody can clue me in, even the slightest bit…. then I am willing to take a chance. Even if it is to tell me that the seminar is too much and I just need to crawl back in my hotel bed, for the day, pull the blinds and not worry about anyone or anything, then that is good enough reason for me to go.
Back to your brother. Your brother that spent 20 minutes, in his bed with me, grilling me about Sedona. I was trying so hard to be extra sensitive to his questions. I was really patient, sweet, compassionate and was doing really well with explaining everything to him. He would just NOT let up. I get that he has a reason to worry but after sweetly talking with him for 20 minutes about this trip….. crack. The mama, spawn of the devil, took over.
“Quinn! I am sorry! I don’t know what else to tell you. I am sorry I have to go on this trip, because your brother died. I’m sorry you don’t understand because you are 8 years old, and you are not supposed to. But I need to take a little time, to take care of myself, because if I don’t, I cannot be the best mommy that I want to be to you. Because I am so sad about your brother dying that I need help. That’s why I go talk to Dr. J, that’s why I am going to this. Because all I really want to do is lock myself in a room for a month and cry, scream, yell and punch things. But I can’t do that, because I have to take care of you and Liam. So you need to cut me some slack! You need to trust that I am coming back and I am not going to leave you! But I need a break, Buddy, and if I don’t take some time to do some things to help me, then we are all going to be in big trouble. So please. Try to understand a little, Quinn. You are not a Daddy. You are 8. You don’t know what it feels like to lose your own child. It is very hard to be a mommy and have your 3-year-old child die, Quinn. Please just give me a break. This is not a fun trip that I am going on. It is a sad trip but I need to take some time to go on this sad trip and just be really, really, sad. And listen to some other teachers, that can maybe help me a little!”
I’m laying with Quinn as I’m saying this. He says he is sorry and tears pour down his cheeks. Stamp my forehead with WORST MOM EVER, please. I kiss him, tell him I’m sorry you died, and that I love him. I don’ know what else to say or do. He falls asleep while I rub his back. I woke him up a few minutes ago to tell him how much I loved him. How much you love him. How he was your best friend. How special he is. I don’t know if he’ll remember tomorrow. Maybe you can visit him tonight and play with him in his dreams. I know he’d like that.
That’s all for tonight, little man. I’m beat. But not really. You know how this goes. I love you. I miss you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, Ro baby.
I found Liam reading in my bathtub. I think I’ll just wear a really funny mask for Halloween so nobody has to see my tears.
Posted by rockstarronan on October 10, 2011