All posts tagged Star Wars

May is officially here. It’s a really hard month for us. So thankful for people like this who continue to do amazing things.

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It’s May. May is the month that we renew our committment to our cause. It is the month of Ronan’s birth, and the anniversary of his death. Last year, Maya, our Founder, was fundraising for to run a marathon without training. She impressed us all with her determination and success. This year, not even a month ago, the Thompsons welcomed the arrival of their baby girl, Poppy Ronan Thompson. There will be no marathons without training. Instead, to kick off our May fundraising, a wonderful man, Jim Fry, is doing a crazy thing to benefit the Foundation. He is riding in Haute Route, a 7 day bike race through mountains and many hundreds of miles in Ronan’s name. And by no coincidence, the race takes place in September, at the very beginning of Pediatric Cancer Awareness month. Follow his journey here and support him with donations.

Thank you, Jim. You are truly inspiring.

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/jimfry/hauteroute

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by rockstarronan on May 1, 2013  •  Permalink
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Posted by rockstarronan on May 1, 2013

http://rockstarronan.com/2013/05/01/may-is-officially-here-its-a-really-hard-month-for-us-so-thankful-for-people-like-this-who-continue-to-do-amazing-things/

That beautiful day your sister was born

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Ronan. I know I’m supposed to sleep when your Poppy sister sleeps, but even early in these morning hours, I just can’t seem to do so. It doesn’t matter the lack of sleep I’m getting due to breast-feeding her, holding her, or obsessively watching her sleep because I’m scared she’s just going to up and stop breathing. I think at this point I’m just running off adrenalin and that’s o.k. Sleep stopped being my friend a long time ago.

So, do you want to hear the story about the day your sister was born? I know you already know it, but I’ll recap it for those who don’t. The last few weeks of my pregnancy I was miserable. Miserable in a way that I found myself begging day after day for your sister to finally get here. You know I’m not a good pregnant person at all and those last few weeks, I was beyond done both mentally and physically. Dr. Schwartz was well aware of this too which is why I got her to agree to strip my membranes to try to jump start my labor the same way she did with me for you. I went into her office on a Tuesday and she did this for me to try to get things rolling. It didn’t work. I went back to her on Thursday and once again she stripped away and I left her office hoping that your baby sister would make her entrance into the world soon; just like the way you did after I had this done. I ended up going to the hospital due to having some bleeding and pretty bad contractions had started up as well. I thought it was going to be go time, but as the night went on, the contractions stopped. I had to stay the night at the hospital so they could monitor me, but I was released the very next day. As you can imagine, I was out of my mind upset. I may be a patient person about most things in life, but the end of a pregnancy is not one of them. I also had myself convinced that Poppy was for sure going to be born dead or was never going to come out at all because clearly I had made her up in my deranged head. Once home I pretty much stayed in bed the entire weekend, not wanting to talk to or see anyone. If there was ever a time that I was “depressed,” in my life, you could say the last few week of pregnancy were it for me.

On Sunday night around 10 p.m. just as your daddy came to bed to go to sleep, I was huffing and puffing about how miserable I was and how I hated the world so I got up to do my late night laundry that I have become accustomed to. Just as I was cursing the pregnancy gods from above, I noticed a little drip, drip, drip running down my legs. I walked down the hallway and the puddle continued to slowly trickle out of me. I went in to our bedroom and said to your daddy, “I think my water just broke.” He jumped out of bed all panicked and told me to grab my stuff so we could rush to the hospital. I told him, “No way. I have to shower first. This could take forever and I’m not bringing Poppy into this world until I shower and shave my legs.” I calmly got showered, dressed, and off to the hospital we went. We were admitted right away and Dr. Schwartz was called. She ordered the hospital to start pitocin for me to get things to progress and little faster as I was still only about 4 cm dilated. By this time it was about midnight and I geared up for the night while your daddy quietly slept away on the couch. My contractions started to get pretty bad and the epidural could not have come soon enough. I could not get a hold of Dr. JoRo who was back up in Sedona as she had been with me in the hospital all of Thursday night but went home after I was released. My doula, your daddy, was just not cutting it as I screamed at him about the pain/having to feed myself ice chips because he was so tired that he could not stay up. Luckily, I had a really great nurse who helped me through everything while your daddy got his beauty sleep to prepare for the big day. Apparently labor is hard work when you are a dude ;) I was really proud of the self control I contained as it took everything I had not to throw ice chips at your Daddy’s head while he slept away and I sat there cursing away from the pain of the contractions that were getting stronger and closer together.

It was around 5:15 a.m. that I started to push your sister out. I had your blanket on my chest and did my best to remain calm as I said your name over and over in my head. 3 pushes was all it took and your baby sister was plopped in my arms immediately. I was overcome with so many emotions that is was almost as if I couldn’t feel a thing. I just remember staring at her and whispering, “Thank you, Ronan,” in her little ear. She looked up at me with her big wide eyes that I can tell are already full of so much wisdom. Your sister was born at 5:35 a.m., 6 lbs 11 oz, tons of dark hair and oh so perfect in every way. She had one little cry as she entered this world but that is pretty much the only peep she has made. I’ve never seen a more calm or peaceful baby in my life. I spent the next few hours staring at her and in disbelief of how much she looks like you. Your daddy and I cannot get over it. I think I went 48 hours without any sleep at all. My adrenaline was through the roof all I could seem to do was stare at your little sister as I slowly let myself fall in love with her. I needed some time to process everything and needed some time to bond with this new baby girl as you know how bittersweet this is for all of us.

Dr. JoRo arrived at the hospital around 10 a.m. and stayed for much of the day. She left once your brothers arrived to let us have some private time together as a family. It hurt to see your brothers walk through that door without you but it was also such a beautiful moment, too. They were so excited and proud to meet their new baby sister. I think they were also both relieved to see that she was finally here, safe and sound. We kept visitors to a minimum just the way I said we would. I needed everything to be calm and quiet not only for me, but for Poppy as well. As the day went on, I sat and watched out our window as an unexpected rain storm took over the entire valley. It was one that was not predicted but rather it came out of nowhere. I know you are always with me, Ro but this storm on the day your Poppy sister was born just proves it to me even more. It was such an amazing thing to witness like it was our own little secret. You are such a little spicy monkey boy and I spent much of the day smiling as I watched the rain pour down out of nowhere.

Our Mr. Sparkly Eyes came by both days that I was at the hospital. The first day he just popped in to take a peek at his new goddaughter and the second day he came for a little longer to sit with me and check in with me to see how I was doing/handling all of this. He told me how I was such a natural at being a mom. I smiled and told him I knew, that this was the easy part for me. I told him how proud you would be to have him as the godfather of your baby sister and how I knew that you would have picked him and only him for this as he is the only one special enough to do so. He will be the best at watching over your baby sister for me just like the way he helped to watch over you whenever he could do so. I know you would be so happy about this. I am so honored to have him play this role in your sister’s life. It makes all of this that much more special.

We were released from the hospital 24 hours later and it took us this long to decide on your sister’s name. We had originally planned on naming her Ireland Ronan, which I am still so in love with but for some reason, it just didn’t feel right anymore. Your daddy and I went back and fourth about her name, forever. I just could not part with Poppy. I didn’t want it to be a nickname or an afterthought. It had come to mean too much to me to just let it go. Your daddy threw in a few curveballs and suggested some names like Sophia and Alexandria, both of which I love, but this baby has been Poppy since she was 5 weeks in the womb. Nothing else felt right. Your daddy and I sealed the deal with Poppy Ronan with a kiss on the lips and a smile in our hearts. I know her name would be Ronan approved. I think you would have loved it so very much. It makes me smile and it makes me happy. Poppy Ronan Thompson sounds like the sweetest thing ever and it just seems to fit her little face.

We have been home now and are all doing just fine. I didn’t spiral into that postpartum depression like everybody was freaking out about and worrying that I would. I have been a little quiet and have not seen too many people but that is not due to depression. It’s just due to the four of us trying to enjoy our quiet time with your sister and soak this all in. I’ve been staying at home with her and just trying to let myself bond with her the way that I need to. I wondered how this was all going to feel… having a new little life around to take care of. I wondered if that hole in my heart would disappear due to your Poppy sister being born. I have come to find out this is not the case and will never be the case. I feel like my heart has grown and gotten bigger, but the hole there will always remain. Nobody can fill it as it’s not meant to be filled. It is there to remind me every single day of how much I love you, how much I will always love you, and how much this will forever hurt as your absence in this world is the most painful thing that I have ever felt. This hole in my heart will remain there for the rest of my life. The birth of your sister has proven this. If she can’t fix this, it was not meant to be fixed no matter how much love I feel in this life without you here. I will live with this hole in my heart for the rest of my life and I can be o.k. with this. I am learning to be o.k. living like this. It makes me stronger and makes me work harder at everything I do. I will let my pain do great things in this life to make you proud.

Alright my little man. I am going to go. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your beautiful sister. Thank you for getting her here safe and sound. I promise to be the best mama in the world to her and teach her all about you. I can’t wait to learn from her the things I know you have already taught her. You are the best big brother in the world. We all love and miss you so much. I’m so sorry that you are not here with us. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, baby doll.

xoxo

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by rockstarronan on April 13, 2013  •  Permalink
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Posted by rockstarronan on April 13, 2013

http://rockstarronan.com/2013/04/13/that-beautiful-day-your-sister-was-born/

I thought I was ready, but I’m not ready.

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Ronan. It’s normal to sit partly naked on a table at your OBGYN’s office and cry, cry, cry while waiting for her to come in a check your cervix, right? I was really trying to avoid this today. I had my nose busily buried in a book that I was reading on my iPad, but somehow it was as if my hands were not my own anymore and the next thing I knew I was swiping my fingers across all of my pictures on my iPhoto only to be staring at you and your big blue eyes while I waited for Dr. Schwartz to see me. I can usually do this and be o.k. I mean, I look at your pictures all the time, but today looking at them left me with tears streaming down my face and wet spots all over my iPad. There you were in every picture, smiling your beautiful smile at me while I traced your mouth with my little pinky as if I were actually touching you. I listened to the voices screaming in my head that it couldn’t really be this way, that my darling, sweet boy, didn’t really die of cancer. The flashbacks began. The ones that forever haunt my mind. The way I watched cancer eat away at your little body, mind and soul. The pain that set in during your last week or so that I could not rub or kiss away no matter how hard I tried. Your sunken eyes, bloated belly, cold lips and stiff little legs. The pain that I now feel every single day and the sadness that never goes away. Now the harsh stares, un welcomed judgment about the grief that I carry around with me. The grief that nobody will ever truly understand but they sure can pretend as if they do while voicing their opinions about it while judging away. The baby sister that is now almost here that will supposedly heal my broken heart according to the world around me. It’s like the outside world thinks she is the magic pill that I’ve so been searching for but will never actually swallow no matter how hard they try to shove it down my throat. Those who know me well, understand my truth. Those who know me well, know that no amount of time, love or even a new human being will ever take away my pain of having to live my life without you and they don’t judge me because of that. It only seems to make them love me more. Those are the people I surround myself with. The handful of people that are not afraid to be a silent witness to this pain and only fill us with unconditional love. They lift us up not bring us down with their words of kind compassion, non-judgemental stares, and they are just so proud of us for still being here and being a loving family to one another. There are no expectations, no whispers of he’s in a better place, or she is doing everything wrong. I hear the whispers and I am very aware of who is doing the whispering. It’s like I have a sixth sense for those things and I have learned that the whispers will always be there, but I have a choice of whether or not I hear them. I mostly choose to tune them out because I know at the end of the day the proof is in the pudding and the pudding being your daddy, your brothers, and the amazing friends that have become family. Not to mention your Nana and Papa Jim. I always say I swear I could murder someone and your Nana would still say, “I am so proud of my daughter.” I know what it is like to be unconditionally loved, thanks to her. She has taught me a very valuable lesson through all of this. One that I could never repay her for or say thank you enough for. That’s the great thing about your Nana, too. After everything Ronan, after all of her love, support, strength, sadness, help… she would never look at me and say, “You owe me for this for all I have done for you. Or you hurt my feelings because you don’t pick up the phone. Or you are being selfish, rude and need to get over this.” She would never make this about her in any way shape or form. She is absolutely the most selfless person on the planet and I only hope that I too, am silently following in her humble footsteps. I know how much she misses you and misses me. I hope one day that I can start picking up the phone more like I used to when you were here. I am thankful that she does not take any of this personally because she knows that I am just doing the best that I can and to her, that is more than enough.

I cleaned myself up before Dr. Schwartz came into the room. I know I looked like a bloody mess as my entire face was blotchy and red. I was quiet when she came in to see me today and asked me her usual questions and went on with her exam. I told her how I have been getting sick again. Mostly during the middle of the night the throwing up starts. I won’t ever know if it’s your sister or my body’s way of reacting to my grief. I have a feeling it’s a little of both. She checked my cervix and measured my belly which is still measuring a week ahead of time. “O.k. it’s not going to be much longer now. You’ve dilated quite a bit. Let’s put you back in a room to see what’s she’s doing and watch your contractions.” I headed back out into the waiting room to wait for a room to open up. There was a girl out there, waiting with her little boy. I tried my best to avoid eye contact, but she smiled so I of course said hello. I was a wreck and listening to the little boy call out, “Mama!” was enough to make my eyes well up with tears as that is what you always called me. He was so cute but I refused to look his way as I knew what was going to happen if I did. I was doing a pretty good job of reading my book until his little car came flying at my feet because he had thrown it across the room at me. This made me laugh as I bent down to pick it up as it is so something you would have done. I returned the car to his mama and she shyly looked at me and said, “You’re Maya, right?” I smiled and said that I was. The girl told me how she has been reading my blog forever and how she actually saw me a couple of weeks ago out and about but didn’t want to come up and bother me. We sat and chatted for a bit while I tried not to get lost in the blue eyes of her little boy. She could not have been sweeter and told me how meeting me had made her day. I gave here a ziplock bag full of your bracelets that I just happened to put in my purse this morning. I knew there was a reason that I packed them. I don’t always leave the house with a bag full of your bracelets, but today I felt like I might need them. I’m so glad I was right:)

I finally got back to the room where my contractions were monitored and your Poppy sister was, too. Dr. Schwartz came in and read the results and told me due to my contractions, she wouldn’t be surprised if she saw me before Friday which means I could have your Poppy sister at any time. I thought I was ready for this but I think I’ve changed my mind. I’m not ready and I’m bloody scared as hell. The only part of me that is ready for this is my body. My tired body is more than ready to have this baby girl. My heart and my mind aren’t so sure. Can I do this doubts fill my head. Your Sparkly promised me that I indeed, can do this. I know he is right, but it doesn’t seem to be making things any less scary or sad. My excitement for your sister seems to have been put on hold due to the anticipation and emotional roller coaster of tears that will not seem to stop. I can’t seem to stop thinking about the fact that you won’t be here to hold her, love her, kiss on her the way I know you would be doing if you were here. I try to calm myself about this by letting my heart remind me that although you are not here, you will forever be watching over her, guiding her and protecting her in ways that only you can do. I would give anything for you to actually be here, teaching her all sorts of naughty things and causing all sorts of trouble but as I’ve learned the hard way, beggars can’t be choosers.

I’ve got to run, Ronan. Your Bri Bri aka, my little sissy is in town for orientation at ASU. Can you believe that? I don’t know where the time went as it seems like just yesterday I was bouncing her on my hip, watching her grow up and bounce Liam and Quinn around and then, you. Now she is all grown up and is finally going away to college to ASU. I’ve listened to her talk about ASU since she was 8 years old and how she would go to school there someday. That someday is almost here and I am so excited to have a little piece of our family in Arizona with us. Your brothers are thrilled. I know she is nervous but we are going to take such good care of her. I so wish you were here to be a part of this with all of us. You loved your Bri Bri so much. You two and your big blue eyes were quite the pair. I can’t wait for Bri to meet this Poppy girl. I know she is going to be so helpful with her the same way she is with your brothers. Best little sissy ever;)

I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, little one.

xoxo

P.S. I just wanted to say a thank you to all of you lovely souls who have been sending the sweetest little gifts, cards, and even a few Poppy things. I even got a little Poppy headband and matching socks all the way from Ireland a couple of days ago. You all are the most thoughtful creatures on the planet. Thank you for loving my little boy and our family so much. Thank you for letting Ronan make you the most beautiful people. It makes my very broken heart, skip a beat. I love you.

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by rockstarronan on April 2, 2013  •  Permalink
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Posted by rockstarronan on April 2, 2013

http://rockstarronan.com/2013/04/02/i-thought-i-was-ready-but-im-not-ready/

The pink lint in the dryer made me cry

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Ronan. A few weeks ago I said to your daddy, “I think I can be o.k. if we put Poppy’s crib in Ronan’s room.” He looked at me startled, and told me hearing those words out of my mouth gave him a lot of anxiety. I said those words a few weeks ago and nothing had been done, until today. My thinking behind this really came down to two things. 1) If you were still here, you would be sharing a room with Poppy anyway and 2) I am so tired and sad of walking past your empty room, day after day and night after night. Your room is big enough that there is enough space to leave your side pretty much the same, we will just change the other side where the extra bed is. We are leaving your bed and will put Poppy’s crib on the other side of the room. There are things we will do to your room, to make it Poppy friendly, too. Originally we had planned to add on another room, but that is not a project I could mentally take on at this point. Living in a construction zone with a new baby was not anything I felt up for and I’m still dealing with the whole I don’t want to do too much, until Poppy is actually here. Poppy is almost here. I have about 3 weeks to go and it’s kind of down to crunch time. I tackled some parts of your room today. All I have to say is fucking fuck fuck fuck. I hated today.

I worked doing what I could do. Cleaning out toys you never played with, clothes you never wore, books you never read, I worked fast and hard sobbing with everything I touched. Your daddy helped and kept telling me that enough was enough for today. I told him no it was not, I still had a lot to do. Liam found me carrying some books out of your room, and sobbing so hard that I was shaking. He wrapped his arms around me but I couldn’t even uncover my face with my hands to fully embrace him. He ran off and got your daddy to tell him I was crying. At this point, I was back in your closest running my hands over your little worn out Uggs that you wore everywhere and pretty much destroyed in New York because you lived in them. I watched as your daddy tried to play the strong role, but he really looked like a deer in headlights as he stared at me with a look of disbelief in his eyes that I have not seen in a long time. I saw his heart break again today, right along with mine. Over and over again our hearts that sometimes seem to be alright, get shattered once again. The pain on your daddy’s face only made everything worse. I hate so much that he hurts just as much as I do. Your daddy never deserved this kind of pain. None of us did. None of us do. Nobody does.

I started to wash the clothes I have for Poppy. I sobbed with every sock of hers that I folded and every blanket that I washed. I hung up some of her things with your things in your closet. I live in a world of sadness and happiness. A world where your little hats and sweaters now collided with Poppy pink headbands and socks. I took out the dryer lint after drying some of Poppy’s things today. It was pink. WTF is going on? Never in my life have I had pink dryer lint because I lived in a world where having 3 boys is all I’ve ever known. How can this be? How can you not be here, really sharing a room with her? I picture it all the time. How much you would have loved having her in your room. I imagined you doing things like sneaking over to her in the middle of the night, to check on her or to try to wake her up because you would have loved her so much that you would have wanted to play with her 24 hours a day. I think of this and it only makes me sad. The only thing that helps with this is knowing that you have 2 older brothers here that will love her extra hard for you. I know your brothers are happy Poppy is going into your room. It will be nice for us all to have some life back in there again. Since your daddy won’t let me pack everything up to move out of the country, or even out of this house, I will make the best of this situation and compromise for everyone. Your daddy still can’t imagine leaving our house which is so full of the memories of you. I still struggle with being here because it only makes me miss you that much more.

I dropped your daddy and brothers off at a St. Paddy’s day party tonight. I didn’t feel like going. I still have a hard time functioning in the normal world and still have not learned how to put on a plastic fake smile where I pretend that everything is alright. I don’t go out very often anymore and I am honestly o.k. with that. Maybe someday things like big groups of people will be o.k. but for now, it still is not. To me it still feels like a world that is foreign to me and I am not ready to learn a new language quite yet. I still prefer my dark, underground world that I have made up in my head because I live in a place where sunshine and sweet singing birds surround me 24/7. I wanted to shoot those birds and blow up the sunshine today. Can’t somebody turn down this brightness just a bit? It is too much to ask for the weather to just cooporate with my mood on a daily basis? It is when you live in AZ. A world where I swear you can overdose on all the sunshine and happiness. Well, at least if you are a bereaved parent you can. I’m know the normals of the world, love it. I think I used to be one of them. I’m not anymore. Nor will I ever be again.

Alright my little spicy monkey. I’m sad, mad, angry and tired. I had a hard day. I am going to finish up a few more things in your room. I will forever be sorry it is this way. I love you. G’nite Ro baby.

xoxo

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by rockstarronan on March 16, 2013  •  Permalink
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Posted by rockstarronan on March 16, 2013

http://rockstarronan.com/2013/03/16/the-pink-lint-in-the-dryer-made-me-cry/

I heart my Tweethearts. They are insisting that I post this. I shall listen.

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I wasn’t going to pimp this because I feel like you all work in a sweatshop for me or something but my die hard Twitter fans are demanding that I do so. I’m going to post this for them. They truly are the sweetest and have been voting like mad. It’s another blog contest I was nominated for. The voting is unlimited so if you feel like it, vote away. It ends April 15th. You can vote as many times as you want, until your little fingers fall off or until you get busted at work;)

Hey, awareness is awareness is awareness. That’s all that really matters. Awareness=Funding=Research=Cures

Childhood cancer needs all the help it can get. Love you all.

xoxo

http://www.arizonafoothillsmagazine.com/battle-of-the-blogs/show_subcat/1.html

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by rockstarronan on March 6, 2013  •  Permalink
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Posted by rockstarronan on March 6, 2013

http://rockstarronan.com/2013/03/06/i-heart-my-tweethearts-they-are-insisting-that-i-post-this-i-shall-listen/

A Rock and Ro Marathon and The Day Dr. Sholler Almost Died

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Ronan. This was another whirlwind of a weekend. So much so that my body/mind hit a wall today and I almost passed out at the dentist’s office where I had to take Quinn to get his first filling. I have never been through a pregnancy where I have been this busy. I have never felt the level of exhaustion that I am feeling. We made it through Quinn’s dentist appointment and I got us home and went straight to bed for the rest of the day. As much as I didn’t want to do this… I also do not want to go into labor anytime soon so I made myself listen to my body and your Poppy sister. My body is acting like it is pissed off at me and screaming at me to slow down. Ugh. I do not do well with slowing down.

I spent the weekend gearing up for all things marathon. Dr. Sholler was in town so much of the weekend was spent with her which you know I loved. I had the chance to introduce her to Dr. Jo. One of the highlights of my life! Getting to spend time with the two of them, together was really amazing. They both deserve the noble peace prize as they are two woman who are doing extraordinary things in the world. We had a nice dinner at Chelsea’s Kitchen, your favorite restaurant. You had the best taste for a 3-year-old. I miss taking you there, so much. After our dinner we had to run over to California Pizza Kitchen as they hosted our “Carb Load,” night before the race. So awesome of them to do. I had the chance to meet many of the people who came in from out-of-town to run for you. It was so amazing to hear where everyone was from. I met people from all over and could not get over how many out-of-town runners we had. You are inspiring so many people, Ronan and it really is amazing to see.

The next morning, I got up super early to head down to the race. We had a booth set up at the end of the race and I wanted to be there to tell our runners thank you despite how tired I felt. I am so glad I went and spent the day and was able to meet some of your RoLovies who ran for you. I had a family who decided to skip their trip to Disneyland this year so the dad could come and run the full marathon for you, Ronan. Can you believe that?! They had 3 kids, and they skipped Disneyland this year because running for you meant so much to them. I don’t even have words for that, only tears. I had one girl who ran with your pictures on her back. Oh.My.God. I really tried my hardest not to cry about this, but it was no use. I was bawling. She was bawling. Becca was bawling. Stacy was bawling. Melissa, too. Our rad junior board, was also in a hot mess of tears. (Hi! Yes, we have a junior board now. It’s not official or anything yet, but they are LEGIT. Thank you girls for all your help) Dr. Trent from TGen ran for you, Ronan. I adore that man. I was so excited for him to be doing something so wonderful for you. Dr. Sholler had a great time running for you. I know I say this over and over and over, but I cannot even explain how amazing she is. I wish so much that she would have known you. I’m trying not to play that little game in my head that I often do called, “Ronan would still be here if…” If Dr. Sholler had taken care of you. I don’t know if this is true. I hate the fact that I will never know. What I can do is work with her, support her, tell everyone I know about her, so that I can help her do the only thing she wants to do which is save kids lives who are here now. As Dr. Trent put it on the night we all had dinner together, “Many people talk the talk, but do not walk the walk. Giselle walks the walk like I’ve never seen anyone before. And she gets beaten up for it sometimes. She is a pioneer.” She is indeed a badass pioneer who will change the face of this ugly disease. And she will do it in a way where you know she is not just another mad scientist playing God. She truly cares about the patients she is taking care of, as much as her work if not more.

We might be the first foundation to have almost killed our dream doctor, by the way. I was not a part of this, but between my two board members, Stacy, Melissa, and Dr. Sholler, they had quite a story for me. After the race, Dr. Sholler needed to get back to her hotel. I could not take her as I didn’t have a car and was still needing to stay at the event to tell some people thank you. I put the precious life of Dr. Sholler in the hands of my two very responsible friends and board members. The walk back to the car was long and one of those rickshaw bicycle guys was peddling around. The 3 of them decided to hop in so they wouldn’t have to walk so far to the car. Rickshaw bike ride gone bad! From the story I got a traffic light turned red in a major intersection and the bike guy decided not to stop, but to speed up! I know all 3 of them saw their lives flash in front of their eyes and Dr. Sholler was almost thrown from the bike. I about died when I heard this story. I cannot imagine if something would have actually happened. Stacy has decided we need a reality camera to follow us around at all times due to stuff like this always happening. It is so true. Even at our most serious times, funny things seem to always be surrounding us. I tell myself a lot that it is your way of reminding us not to forget to laugh once in a while even though what we are doing is for a very sad reason. You know we need a lot of laughter to help us through this, otherwise it would be a constant stream of tears. I am very thankful that we can look back and laugh at the little Rickshaw bike ride and nobody ended up being roadkill. Geez. Thank you, Ro!

I had a dream about you the other night. You were sick but instead of cancer, you had some gashing wound on your head. I didn’t care. I was just walking about the hospital, talking to your Mr. Sparkly Eyes all calmly like nothing was the matter. I, of course knew you were dying, but I was just thankful to have you in my arms. As soon as I woke up from that one, I fell back asleep and dreamed of your Poppy sister. Your Sparkly was in this one too. It seems to be a pattern whenever my dreams involve you, he is always there. In my Poppy dream, she was about 3 or 4 and looked so much like you. Your Mr. Sparkly Eyes was chasing her about and they were both laughing. Her little face looked so much like you. I woke up from that dream, smiling. I can’t wait to see this in real life. Your Sparkly is just as excited for your baby sister as I am. A lady passed us the other day, carrying a infant carrier and he just looked at me and said, “I can’t wait for that to be you.” I know why. He knows how much I need your sister. He knows I need to smile more and he knows she is going to help so much with this. He is right. As always.

Alright little man. I’m going to end this before your brothers get home. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe.

xoxo

P.S. Dear Rock and Ro Marathon Runners, Donators, and Helpers,

Thank you. Truly. What an amazing thing it is to see the way Ronan has impacted your lives. So much so that you are letting him make you the most beautiful, selfless souls that exist. Thank you for believing in him so much that you have allowed your lives to be changed, for the better. It is one of the most beautiful gifts that he has left. I am so thankful and honored for all of you. I can’t wait to see you all next year and run the race with you.

Magic Meg. You forking rock. This was all you. Thank you for taking over and making this marathon such a huge success. This would not have happened without all of your badass hard work. Ronan thanks you, too. I love you.

P.P.S. We are accepting donations until January 31st so feel free to keep them rolling in! Thank you all.

xoxo

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/rockandro/rockstar-run

9 Comments
by rockstarronan on January 22, 2013  •  Permalink
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Posted by rockstarronan on January 22, 2013

http://rockstarronan.com/2013/01/22/a-rock-and-ro-marathon-and-the-day-dr-sholler-almost-died/

20 months is not a kissing day

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Ronan. Today I woke up knowing it was the 9th. 20 months without you. I hate today so much. Your daddy woke up in the best mood ever. I know this is not true, but in my psychotic mind, it was. He was singing in the shower, Ronan. Singing?!?! Can you believe that one? I was beyond grumpy, hormonal and upset so of course I snapped at your daddy, “Can you please stop singing?! This is not a happy day!” He then made me feel like the biggest jackass ever by saying something really nice like he was just trying to wake himself up and he knows that today is an awful day. He tried to grab me for a kiss before work but I refused to give him one. I told him that today was not a kissing day. Remember the way you used to tell me that? In your grumpy little voice. “It’s not a kissing day, mama!” I always loved all my days with you, kissing or not, so very much.

I had a phone call this morning. I’ve had a lot of phone calls this week with different publishing houses. My agent, Nina, has done an amazing job of getting my proposal into the very best hands. Harper Collins! Random House! Simon & Shuster! St. Martin’s Press! Or as my Fairy Ro Mo said to me, “Nice little Indie Publishing Houses they are. Not! Wow!” I laughed out loud at her when I got that text message. I did not know if I was going to be able to pull it together for this phone call this morning as I was on the verge of tears. Luckily, it could not have went better. I think I cried at the beginning, listening to the woman on the other end of the phone tell me how sorry she was about you, but how moved she was with our story. I loved that she really seemed to get it and connect to you in a way that felt so right. She could not have been more complimentary which is always nice. I did what I always do in these phone calls which is let you guide me while I speak from the heart. I felt really good about it when it ended.

I didn’t have anything super crazy or dangerous to do today, on the 9th fuckwad of a fucking day so I did my best just to get through it. I miss my danger days where I used to take the 9th and do something totally dangerous and fun. Last year at this time, I was jumping out of an airplane. I mainly did it thinking I was going to die and I didn’t care. Once I hit the ground, I realized I didn’t really want to die, but instead I wanted to live my life to the fullest and forever do things that you will never get to do. Skydiving included. That was kind of my wake up call in life. I remember hitting the ground and thinking to myself, “If I can jump out of an airplane, I can do ANYTHING.” I still think this is true. I am so thankful for that experience at that time which totally woke my ass up. And I would do it again in a heartbeat, but something tells me that being almost 7 months pregnant, and skydiving do not go hand in hand.

So for today on my “danger day,” I totally did some rad mom danger things. I had to rent a Mini-Van due to being in a little fender bender a few weeks ago. Totally not my fault by the way. Shout out to the VP of your foundation, Ro, for running into me! I have to LOL at that one. It was a very minor accident and he felt so bad. But I have had the BEST time giving him shit about it. And now I get to rock a very dangerous mini van for the next couple of weeks which will be so very awesome! I also went to buy some new pants today because mine are no longer fitting me. I tried them on in the store and they were such a perfect fit that I of course had to wear them out. I spent all morning walking around with the tags on my butt and back thigh. Everyone in all of Scottsdale/Phoenix is now aware that I am a size 30 in jeans. Holla! If you ask me, that was a very dangerous day indeed.

I am wrapping up this post tonight with a raging headache and a wave of exhaustion hitting me that I have not felt in a while. I think the holidays, traveling, Teddy, you, grief, pregnancy, and going, going, going, non-stop is catching up with me. I might need an early bedtime tonight.

I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, baby doll. I love you to the moon and back.

xoxo

27 Comments
by rockstarronan on January 9, 2013  •  Permalink
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Posted by rockstarronan on January 9, 2013

http://rockstarronan.com/2013/01/09/20-months-is-not-a-kissing-day/

Welcome the newest board members of The Ronan Thompson Foundation!

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I am so proud of our growing family/board members. Woody Thompson as President, Ken Frakes as Vice President, and Melissa DiFilippo. I am so lucky to be surrounded by these beautiful souls and so honored to have them on our board!

http://www.theronanthompsonfoundation.com/about/board

4 Comments
by rockstarronan on December 19, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by rockstarronan on December 19, 2012

http://rockstarronan.com/2012/12/19/welcome-the-newest-board-members-of-the-ronan-thompson-foundation/

Life without Ronan, is Not Wonderful, Merry, or Bright…

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Ronan. This time of the year is tough for me. I’m having a major mental road block in my head over every single thing that I am trying to get done. Shopping for holiday gifts, ordering holiday cards, deciding on what to pack for our trip when I still cannot believe that I do not get to pack a suitcase for you. The holiday card thing kills me the most. I don’t send them out personally anymore, but I do through your foundation. Try picking out a holiday card to design when you have a dead child. They all read, “Best Christmas Ever!” “Everything is Merry and Bright!” or my personal favorites, the one I would have sent out in my former life that simply says, “Happy Holidays!” which to me really reads, “We are perfect. Life is perfect. Everything is perfect, as it should be, and no child ever gets sick and dies from cancer!” Holy hell. It took me 3 days to pick out and design a simple fucking card. I put your picture of the front of it, giving the peace sign. I put a picture of the 4 of us, ugh, on the inside standing in front of your Star Wars Christmas Tree. Through my blinding tears, I managed to write my own happy version of our holiday card which consisted of something like, “Life without Ronan, is not wonderful. blahblahblahblah. But we are determined to make him proud. blahblahblahblah. Thank you for loving us and remembering what is truly important in life.” I wanted to end it by saying, “Fuck Cancer,” but I didn’t think my board members would approve of that so I held off. I will never be able to write a holiday card of fluff again. But I hope when people get that card and open it up they will understand a few simple things. From tragedy, can come good. From losing the most important thing that ever exists, your child, a family can survive the pain and turn it into doing good for others while falling apart at certain times, but not all the time. A family can stay together, hold each other up, and at the end of the day go to bed kissing each other, tucking each other in, telling their dead child goodnight with the promise that tomorrow, might just be an o.k. day.

Today was an o.k. day. It’s the little things though that can make my o.k. day all of a sudden, turn into a ugly cry sob fest in the car. That happened today. I was driving to my office, listening to Taylor Swift of course. Something about one of her lyrics, punched me in the gut. I felt like the wind was knocked out of me. I kept thinking, “No, no, no, no, no. I can’t believe I don’t have his lips to kiss anymore. I can’t believe I don’t have his hand to hold. I can’t believe I don’t get to hear his little laugh or watch the way this sparkly blue eyes light up when he laughs or is doing something naughty. Please, no. I need him back.” I sobbed in the car until I arrived at my destination. I kept it together after that for the rest of the day. I kept it together only because I had a ton of shit to get done and I did not keep it together over my weekend of, “I’m hiding in my bed and not coming out.” I made myself power through today because of the slacking off I did all weekend long.

So.. I KNEW my last blog post was going to cause a major uproar. Most of the comments were lovely, but some were not. I was told everything from, “Your blog is ugly and you are ugly!” to “You just lost another reader.” “Ronan is right where he should be, with our heavenly father. You need to accept that.” What do I say to those nasty comments? Nothing except for thank you. Thank you for being so small minded that you will no longer be reading this blog. I do not need small-minded people on here. I understand it takes a special kind of person, to stick with me. I learned that a lesson a long time ago. It takes the kind of person that can let my words outrage them, but still find it in there hearts to continue reading because they get the bigger picture of all of this. They get that this isn’t about my beliefs, their beliefs, religion, anger or my grief. They get that this is about things that are bigger than themselves and their lives. This is about a very special boy who did not deserve to get childhood cancer and die but he did and because of that, GOOD will come out of it. This is about a BOY with the most beautiful blue eyes who’s mother loved him in the most insanely, passionate way possible that losing him may make it seem as though she has gone mad sometimes, and rightfully so. If my opinions offend you so much that you can just walk away this blog, then so be it. But I hope you remember that it is not me you have walked away from, but him. And for you, I feel sorry. Yes, I rant and rave about everything on here because these are MY feelings and this is MY blog. I am so sorry my being truthful about the things I feel offend you so much that you feel the need to spew such words of hate towards me. I honestly feel like some of the people in this world would be much more comfortable with the way I am handling my grief if I were popping pills or drinking myself to death. I honestly think we as a society are more comfortable with people numbing their pain then actually be true to it. I don’t drink. I don’t do drugs. I don’t smoke. My vice is telling the truth about this pain, my pain without much of a filter. That is MY right as a grieving, heartbroken mother and a choice I have made. I am proud of myself for this choice and I know it is something Ronan is proud of as well. As Ronan’s mom, NOBODY knows what this feels like for me because you were never his mother. He was mine and he was taken away from me and he shouldn’t have been. I will NEVER accept that or come to PEACE with that. I will learn to live with that and that is as good as it is going to get. I do not hate the almighty God. I not hate people who pray. I love them. Why do you think those are the people in my life that I am closest to? I get strength from them. I get love from them. I embrace them and all they believe in as long as they are not telling me what I am doing or feeling, is wrong. I do not hate the power of prayer, but I do question it. I prayed for my son every single day along with thousands of other people day and night and my child still died. So of course I question it all now. Anybody that has a problem with that, well those are your issues, not mine. I’m the one who had the love of my life ripped away from me in the blink of an eye. I’m the one who had to kiss the cold lips of my dead child. I’m the one that had to bathe his dead body and watched as he was taken away on a mother fucking gurney. So not so lovely little blog readers who say they will no longer be reading, I say GOOD FUCKING RIDDONS. At the end of the day, I know who I am and I am not an ugly person. YOU DO NOT KNOW ME, personally. To know me is to love me. I know that. I am not perfect. I am far from it, but the bottom line is, I have a very good heart, I am an outstanding mother, and I WILL FIX this world of childhood cancer even with all of my anger that apparently I am not supposed to have because I should be over it by now. NEWSFLASH!! Grief does not have an expiration date!!! I am quite simply sick of hearing all of that get over it talk. I will never get over the life my child was robbed of.  I will never get over life without him. I am a grieving mother who is trying her best to be honest and true to everything that I am questioning, exploring and feeling and I made the choice to share it with the world because I know that my voice, will change things for others. I am not holding a gun to your head and asking you to feel the same things or believe in the same things that I do. You don’t even know what I believe in, yet you are sure quick to sit back and judge away. I don’t understand what was so wrong about saying prayers and actions need to happen together because those are the two most powerful things in life. I am a realist. I know that prayers alone are not going to be what finds the CURE for childhood cancer. Or what keeps mentally ill gunmen out of our schools. That was the point of my last blog. How did you misconstrue that into something so ugly? I know why and deep down, you know why and I am going to leave it at that.

One last little thing. You know what else I hate more than anything? When people say, “Well, I prayed and I got my miracle.” As somehow, the thing you were praying for was more precious than my son, therefore your miracle was granted. That is so cold-hearted and mean. That is so selfish and sick. Think about the totally warped thing you are saying in your head, before you actually say it. As somehow, God picked you or your loved one because they were worth more than my Ronan or all these other kids out there who are dying or fighting terminal illnesses. You need to chickity check yo’ self before you wreck yo’ self. Thanks though for your unconditional love and support. Peace out Mo’ Fo’s. Have a nice life with that unicorn you ride on up in the sky.

Ronan. That was yesterday. This is today. I have a lot going on. I am having a lot of anxiety about Christmas morning and what it is going to feel like to sit there and watch your brothers in all their glory, unwrapping gifts when you are not there. I can’t stop thinking about Teddy’s family and the 7 other kids who died today from childhood cancer and what their holidays are going to feel like. I can’t stop thinking and hurting for all of those parents, siblings, friends, and relatives in Newtown. I walked into a store today and it was just like it was another normal day. Some really happy christmas song was on. It think it was the one about it being a holly, jolly christmas and the best time of the year. The song stopped me in my tracks. I felt like I was on that show, The Twilight Zone. I looked all around. Everyone was smiling, laughing, and the colors everywhere were so bright. Don’t they know about Ronan? Or Teddy? Well, surely they know about the shooting that just happened. Shouldn’t the world just stop for a little while? It all felt so wrong today. Shouldn’t we have a few days of silence and mourning as an entire county for a couple days. Shouldn’t we cancel Christmas this year? That feels like the right thing to do. The right thing to do does not feel like me finishing up my Christmas shopping. I didn’t. I abandoned my cart and aborted mission. I went to my car and bought my plane ticket for Teddy’s funeral instead. It’s January 6th. I made the decision last night to fly out to San Francisco to go. It’s the least I can do for Teddy and his family. Macy will go with me. My brave sweet friend who watched my child die, attended his funeral, and did not even hesitate to say yes to going to the funeral of another little boy, so I don’t have to go alone. That right there, is true love at it’s finest.

Alright, Ro. I’m getting off my soapbox for tonight. I’m sorry I had to vent. I have been holding all that in for a couple of days and I have been feeling like I am going to explode. That is my venting. Sorry it took over a majority of my writing to you. I hate when my anger interferes with that but I also know I can’t keep it bottled up inside. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, baby doll.

xoxo

This is right after Ronan had his head cut open. Look at that smile. He was so happy just to be back in my arms again. That is the ONLY place he belongs, so please STOP saying otherwise. His smile says it all.

This is right after Ronan had his head cut open. Look at that smile. He was so happy just to be back in my arms again. That is the ONLY place he belongs, so please STOP saying otherwise. His smile says it all.

227 Comments
by rockstarronan on December 18, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by rockstarronan on December 18, 2012

http://rockstarronan.com/2012/12/18/life-without-ronan-is-not-wonderful-merry-or-bright/

I hear these things, all of the time. If you read this blog and still say these things, I will punch you.

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This is from an article off of Huffington Post. Thanks, CC.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rev-emily-c-heath/dealing-with-grief-five-t_b_2303910.html?ncid=edlinkusaolp00000003

We often have no idea what to say in the face of senseless loss. That is especially true when children are the victims of tragedy. Today’s shooting in Connecticut is heartbreaking in so many ways, not the least of which is the staggering loss of children.

My first two years in ministry were spent as a chaplain assigned to the emergency department of a children’s hospital with a level one trauma center. During that ministry I saw so many senseless tragedies. I also heard some of the worst theology of my life coming from people who thought they were bringing comfort to the parents. More often than not, they weren’t. And often, they made the situation worse.

Here are five things not to say to grieving family and friends:

1. “God just needed another angel.”

Portraying God as someone who arbitrarily kills kids to fill celestial openings is neither faithful to God, nor helpful to grieving parents.

2. “Thank goodness you have other children,” or, “You’re young. You can have more kids.”

Children are not interchangeable or replaceable. The loss of a child will always be a loss, no matter how many other children a parent has or will have.

3. He/she was just on loan to you from God.

The message is that God is so capricious that God will break parents’ hearts at will just because God can. It also communicates to parents and loved ones that they are not really entitled to their grief.

4. God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.

Actually, some people do get a lot more than any one person should ever have to handle. And it doesn’t come from God. Don’t trivialize someone’s grief with a “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” mentality.

5. We may not understand it, but this was God’s will.

Unless you are God, don’t use this line.

And here are five things to say:

1. I don’t believe God wanted this or willed it.

A grieving friend or family member is likely hearing that this is God’s will from a number of other people. Affirm the idea that it may very well not be.

2. It’s okay to be angry, and I’m a safe person for you express that anger to if you need it.

Anger is an essential part of the grieving process, but many don’t know where to talk about it because they are often silenced by others when they express their feelings. (For instance, they may be told they have no right to be angry at God.) By saying you are a safe person to share all feelings, including anger, with, you help the grieving person know where they can turn.

3. It’s not okay.

It seems so obvious, but sometimes this doesn’t get said. Sometimes the pieces don’t fit. Sometimes nothing works out right. And sometimes there is no way to fix it. Naming it can be helpful for some because it lets them know you won’t sugarcoat their grief.

4. I don’t know why this happened.

When trauma happens, the shock and emotion comes first. But not long after comes our human need to try to explain “why?” The reality is that often we cannot. The grieving person will likely have heard a lot of theories about why a trauma occurred. Sometimes it’s best not to add to the chorus, but to just acknowledge what you do not know.

5. I can’t imagine what you are going through, but I am here to support you in whatever way feels best.

Even if you have faced a similar loss, remember that each loss is different. Saying “I know how you’re feeling” is often untrue. Instead, ask how the grieving person is feeling. And then ask what you can do to help. Then, do it and respect the boundaries around what they don’t want help with at this point. You will be putting some control back into the hands of the grieving person, who often feels like they have lost so much of it.

 

23 Comments
by rockstarronan on December 15, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by rockstarronan on December 15, 2012

http://rockstarronan.com/2012/12/15/i-hear-these-things-all-of-the-time-if-you-read-this-blog-and-still-say-these-things-i-will-punch-you/

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