I kind of think I might do this one day.

10256514_701462539888784_6005931057056608011_n

“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

May, May go away. Do not come again another day.

e560a4a83b6491e9b7dc03764391f5bd-1

 

 

 

Ronan.  May is officially here and I’m trying my best not to go into freak out mode.  You know what is coming up and it never gets easier.  May 9th will be 3 years without you and May 12th will be your 7th birthday.  Not to mention Mother’s Day, the day we had your funeral, the day you were cremated, which also happens to be on your birthday.  It’s all these fucked up dates that I wish didn’t exist, but they do and there is no escaping them.  I will come up with some sort of plan to get through the days like I always do and luckily I know we will be with some of my most favorite people, so hopefully that will help ease the pain just a bit, but every part of me remembers the pain of these dates.

I don’t even know what has happened since the last time I have written.  My days are filled with all things Poppy and that is about it.  I have really taken a step back from everything in life because for the past year, I just really needed to get lost in her and that is exactly what I have been doing.  She deserved that, Ronan and frankly, so did I.  I needed to just take this time and soak up all of her innocence, sweetness, and truly get to know my baby girl.  Poppy doesn’t have a lovie or a blanket that she is attached to when she sleeps like you did because you know what she uses instead? Me. I have not put her in her crib once to sleep, not even for a nap.  I rock her, lay her down in bed with me and listen to her as she hums and plays with the necklace that sweet Mrs. Martin gave to me when Poppy was born. It’s just the letter, “P” and she falls asleep every day and every night by holding on to me and my necklace.  That is how attached we have become and I wouldn’t have it any other way.  I cannot imagine doing this life without you AND without her.  I don’t know what I would have done had we had not had another baby.  She brings about me a calmness that has been missing for so long.

It did happen the other day though.  The thing I knew was going to happen sooner or later; I am just surprised it happened while she is so young.  It was about a week after her first birthday and I was laying her down to change her on your bed.  We have that huge picture of you hanging over your bed and as I was putting a new diaper on her she looked over at your picture, pointed and goes “Ro Ro.”

I almost fell over.  I truly thought I was hearing things so I said, “What did you say?” She looked at me, pointed to the picture and goes, “Ro Ro. Brotha. Brotha Ro Ro Ro.” She motioned for me to pick her up and take her over to your picture so I did and she planted a big fat kiss on your little lips.  The tears started pouring down my cheeks and I had such a mixed reaction of total euphoria and wanting to run kicking and screaming out of our house.  It took me a few minutes to decide what it is that I was going to do.  Was I going to run away or just take a deep breath and embrace this moment of pure fucking amazingness that can only be explained as Poppy knows things that are not from this world?  She can’t even say Liam or Quinn’s name yet and the fact that she not only said your name, but knows who you are from a picture makes my heart go a million miles a minute.  As soon as Quinn and Liam got home, I grabbed Poppy and took them into your room.  I said, “Watch this.  Poppy, who is that on the picture?” as I pointed to you.  She goes, “Ro Ro.” Quinn started giggling uncontrollably and Liam didn’t quite know what to do.  “She just said, Ro Ro! Mom! Did you hear that?!” Quinn was jumping around with such excitement.

It’s been non-stop since that started a few weeks ago.  All day long all I hear, besides her barking like a dog is “Ro Ro Ro Ro. Brotha Ro Ro.” She is usually walking around carrying a picture of you, kisses it, and goes back to playing with something else.  She also studies the picture frame you are in like crazy, trying her best to open it.  It’s like she’s saying, “I know if I get this open, I can get him out and he can come and play with me.” I truly think that is what she thinks.  Oh, how I wish this were true.  I’m torn between loving all of this so much to sometimes it makes me sick.  As I said to your Sparkly the other day, “I’m going to break Poppy’s heart one day when I have to explain to her where Ronan is and what happened to him.  I don’t want to break her heart. How am I going to look my daughter in the eyes and have that conversation with her?” The thought of it makes me want to vomit all over the floor.  Why the fuck can’t her first heartbreak be over some asshole guy she will date when she is 16? Not over her beautiful brother that would have loved her so much, taken such good care of her and beat up the fuckwad who broke her heart? I like that story much better than the one I’m going to have to tell her.

I think I have to go now, Ro. Much more to say as always but my eyes are burning and bed is calling my name.  I’m forever sorry it is this way.  I miss you.  I love you.  I hope you are safe.

xoxo

photo 2

Wait… Poppy is one? How did that happen already??

c2cb6641129278b1e1c0d733e3db7d37

 

 
Ronan. I don’t live in a normal world anymore. I live in a world that I often feel very alone in, but I tend to do alright in this world. This world without you is so hard for me to live in, but I have done my best to make it bearable by living each day as fully as I am capable of because I know how precious each day truly is. You might say this new perspective has given me a clarity I never had before and I myself as a human being generally feel pretty fulfilled; minus the always absence of you in my life. I keep you tucked away as close to me as possible and carry you with me in everything I do which seems to get me through the toughest of times.

I was at lunch the other day and ending up sitting next to a table full of mom’s who were doing PTO stuff for their kids’ school. I knew a few of them so of course I waved, but I really wanted to just curl up and cry. I glanced their way every so often and could hear them talking so excitedly about the money they had raised and the upcoming fundraiser they were putting together. What it must be like to be able to live that life of a normal, no cancer has ever touched their kids, PTO mom. My mind wandered back and forth between “I wonder if this is what my life would have been like if cancer had not killed my baby” to “Please let Nela beat this cancer once again, Ronan, as her mom just told me she has relapsed.” You see, even when I try to do normal not cancer mom things, it’s almost impossible for my mind to just let go of the swirling thoughts I have about you, you getting cancer, you dying, all the other kids that I know are being diagnosed, the ones who are not doing well, etc… I have come to accept the fact that I cannot do it all and I’m just no longer cut out to be the PTO mom because that life as I maybe would have known it, flew out the window a long time ago and I don’t see it coming back anytime soon.

I have a 23-year-old best friend. A 37-year-old best friend. And a 68-year-old best friend. The three of them all entered my life because of you. My relationships with them are each so different, so unique and so special. Not only do we have one common denominator in our lives, which is you; but we also have another one which is this fucked up world of childhood cancer. My 23-year-old best friend sleeps in your bed a lot. She pretty much should just move in with us at this point and if I did indeed have a guest house, I would totally let her live in it. We do a lot of silly things together which mostly consists of drinking too many Kale drinks in one day and having ridiculous dance parties to really bad rap music with Poppy. We also do a lot of quiet things together, too. We hike a lot while we ponder stupid things like, “If you could come back as a boy or a girl in your next life, what would you be?” We do a lot of intense things like cry on the phone and kick and scream and cuss about things that are so fucked up but are not my things to talk about on here. She sends me poetry in the middle of the night or things she is reading out of books and I do the same for her if something really strikes me as so painfully beautiful, that only she would understand. I am watching her in the world as she walks through it and I swear sometimes I see you holding her hand. She is all things magic and beauty and makes my heart sometimes skip a beat. I thank you for her every night in my head. She is my little renege side kick in life and I am so lucky to have found her, because of you.

I also have your New York Miss Macy who you actually did know and love to pieces. She is my sounding board for everything in life and the one I probably cry the most to. She is also the one I laugh with the most. Without Macy, I’m not sure where I would be in this life without you, but I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be in the place I am now. She keeps me grounded and reminds me that it is o.k. to be sad with someone other then myself. She is flying in this weekend to celebrate your Poppy sister and also because I got us kick ass tickets to the Lana Del Rae concert who is my musical soul mate in life. I cannot wait to have her here and I know Poppy is so excited about seeing her other mom:)

Last but not least is your Sparkly who I can say without a doubt, saved my life. I could write a novel about him but I’ll just talk about yesterday instead. Yesterday was Poppy’s birthday. Her first birthday. Can you believe that, Ronan? I don’t know how she is one already. I wasn’t sure how I was going to be feeling yesterday, so I didn’t make any big plans. I woke up to the sweetest messages from so many people wishing her a Happy Birthday which was so nice, so thank you all. We had a quiet morning at the house just the two of us and ran down to see your Sparkly so he could see his god-daughter on her special day. We brought him a coffee, just like you used to always want to do for him. We sat and talked while your Poppy sister crawled around between the two of us while I opened up the little gift and card he got for her. I was trying my hardest not to cry and I know he could tell I was getting sad.

“Are you going to be o.k. today?” he asked me while I did my best to look him in the eyes as I answered his question.

“Yeah. I’ll be o.k. I just wish Ronan could be here.”

He responded with, “I know you do. I do, too. I’m sorry he’s not, but today is her day and I know he would want her to be celebrated the way she deserves to be, so please go and do that for her.”

Your Sparkly has such a way of being able to recognize my sadness, but can also put things into perspective for me in a way that doesn’t piss me off. He’s is pretty much the only one in my life that is capable of doing that.

I told him I would celebrate your sister and so of course I kept my word.  Of course Poppy should be celebrated, but I live in this world where the most beautiful things are also so very bittersweet.  I had to sing your sister Happy Birthday last night and you were not there to do something naughty like smash her cupcake all over the floor.  I just don’t think I’ll ever get used to that or I won’t ever be sad about that, but I could not let my sadness take away from her day at all.  That would not have been fair to her and I know it’s not what you would have wanted.

I ran and picked up Brianna from ASU. We took Poppy to Toys R Us to get her some gifts. I got home and wanted so badly to just throw in the towel and order a pizza instead of cooking the spaghetti dinner that Quinn had requested. I kept hearing your Sparkly’s words in my head. I cooked dinner and we spent the evening outside playing basketball and watching Poppy have a dance party because that is her favorite thing to do in life. Kassie and Brianna stayed the night and we gathered around to sing your sister while a purple star balloon floated behind her, just to remind us all that you are always here. Always. It was a very sweet and simple day as that is all I think any of us could handle.

Today is 35 months without you and today was not a good day at all. I cried a lot. Your daddy cried a lot. I felt extra lost without you today and I don’t know how next month is our hell month of May already and 3 years since you’ve been gone as well as your 7th birthday. God, what I would give to see you as the beautiful 7-year-old that I know you would be. We are going away for May because being in Arizona is never a place that I want to be on the day you died and your birthday. We all need a little time out together so we are going to the Hamptons for a bit where we will see some dear friends, but also be together as a family.

I have to say goodnight now, Ro baby. I’m tired and need to try to get some sleep as I am beyond ready for today to be over.

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

xoxo

 

 

Thank you for her.  She is such a gift to us all.  Happy 1st Birthday, Poppy Roo. We love you, Ronan.

Thank you for her. She is such a gift to us all. Happy 1st Birthday, Poppy Roo. We love you, Ronan.

 

 

The treadmill made me do it.

tumblr_mx3o6k4DL11qz8rpeo1_500

 

 

Ronan. So, this happened tonight. The usual running around like mad, Poppy is into everything, I’m trying to get something on the table for your brothers to eat before they come home. I have so much nervous energy today that I haven’t slowed down once.  I know as soon as your daddy and brothers walk through the door I will be handing over Poppy to them so I can go and work out because if I don’t, bad things will happen.  At least that is what I tell myself in my head.  I go to my little class where I find myself in a room full of people that I have no interest in talking to, half are doing weights/floor exercises and the other half are on the treadmills while we are getting instructed on what we need to be doing.  I am of course on the treadmill, happily running away while staring at myself in a mirror. My reflection looks sad but determined.

We take turns running at our base pace which for me is a 6.7 speed and 3 incline.  We are told to step it up for 90 second all outs so of course I push myself to the max.  5 incline, 8.0 speed.  I start to run as hard as I can and my heart feels like it’s going to explode out of my chest, but of course I don’t stop.  All of a sudden, I really can’t breathe or catch my breath for what feels like minutes.  Then it happens.

Is this how Ronan felt, right before he died? 

He couldn’t breathe, he ran out of air, oxygen, and probably felt just like this right before he died. 

How could you have let this happen? How could you not have saved him after you promised him that you would? You are the worst human being on the planet. You let your child die and now you just get to continue on with life while he does not? How is that at alright? You should be dead, not him. 

Fuck you. You don’t get to stop and sit here and think about how hard this is and how you want slow down and stop. You keep going because you are not the little boy who got cancer and died.  You get to be here and do this and you don’t get to stop. Ever. 

I stare up at the screen which is monitoring my heart rate and beg for it to come down because if it does not soon, I know I will pass out.  I continue with the torture of beating myself up on the treadmill while flashes of you dying and taking your last breaths fill my mind.  The person leading the class is now keeping a watchful eye on me as I think he has caught on to the fact that I might be over doing it just a tad.  An hour later and I am finished and I somehow make it to my car only to drive home to a house that doesn’t feel like home to me anymore. I head straight for the shower and try my hardest to scrub the images of you not being here out of my head, but it doesn’t work.  I then throw myself in my bed, where I cry the tears for you that I haven’t had for a few days.

Your daddy comes in, asking me what happened.  I ignore him and continue to cry into our mattress. When I finally come up for air, I snap at him that nothing has to happen, for something to be wrong. That I just want to be fucking sad for the one thing that I will be sad about for the rest of my life.  I don’t want to be hovered over.  I don’t want anyone to wipe away my tears. I just want to be left alone.

This is all I can say for tonight. I’ll let my friend, Tyler Knott say the rest.

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

Typewriter Series #690 by Tyler Knott Gregson

There will come a time, a day, a moment when words are not enough.
When the letters hooking to other letters and tying themselves
to each other, the trains of vowels and consonants chasing each other
out of my mouth just won’t do justice to the avalanche that you’re
struggling through.
If this is that day, if these are those moments I will not speak,
but I have no choice but to leave you with these attempts, as futile
as they might be, for words are all I have to offer
and the only currency I believe in:

This is not, and never will be, a goodbye. You should not, and never can
hold onto the should haves or could haves or why didn’t I’s.
The time will come, I promise you, for us all to stop wearing these bodies
atop these souls.  The time of taking one long, full and deep breath
in through these lungs only to exhale it out through brand new lips.
The last light we will ever see through these perfect and beautiful eyes
will be the first light, the exact same and blindingly gorgeous first
light that filters through new irises and shocks our tiny pupils
before we blink. What a gift every single day in between has always been.
What a hauntingly painful and sublimely joyous gift to live, truly live
every single day in between these firsts and yes, these lasts.
Do not carry the weight of all you did not say, the times you did not make
the time or the excuses you made, because there is a secret you must know:
Those that leave us, never do. They see us how we never could and how we
were always so scared to. When they go, bravely stepping into the first day
of their new lives, all they pack into the bags they choose to carry,
are the memories that soothe their longing and and settle their aching bones.
It is we, always we that carries the luggage of regret and burdens of doubt
Somewhere, right this very second, they are beginning their journey back
into love. Somewhere, right this very instant, the first wobbly steps in their
search has begun again.  Somewhere, the only person that truly makes sense to
them, the only person to ever exist and exist exactly for them, is waiting. 

You will hurt.  You will cry and you will be scared. You will miss and long
and ache and look for their fingerprints on the life you’re going to lead
without them.  You will swear you heard, if only for an instant, the sound
of their laughter or the timbre of their voice.  This is ok, and more than
that, this is beautiful.  Hold onto the sadness you feel like a trophy.
Hoist it high above your head and shout to the photo that is not being taken
of you that you loved them, you will always love them and you are proud
of the tears that roll down your face. They live inside the memories that give
shape to those tears and you must never apologize for your sorrow, nor your
joy when it too returns to your days. 

These are the words for those that remain; for all of us and all of you that
are left scrambling and shaking and weeping tears of compassion and joy and
confusion.  These are words when words are not enough.  I say them because I
must say them, because words are all I have to offer besides my shoulder and
my hands and my belief that this is not and never will be goodbye.
Today is and always has been such a perfect day to say goodbye,
and to once again, say Hello.

-Tyler Knott Gregson-

 

 

 

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

99290366754858956_FuB4zZhf_f

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

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

177eefffe5fd3b0d8d42eae53eb5edf3

 

 

 

 

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

A Very Merry Christmas???

74245201289bfd6361865f36660d2cb2

 

 

Ronan.  It’s nights like last night when I really wonder if you can see us.  You know how much I struggle with the whole heaven, white fluffy clouds thing and where exactly you are.  Late at night when I’m writing, I often have your urn sitting in front of me and sometimes I take a picture of it and through my writing tears, send some random message to your Mr. Sparkly Eyes about how wrong this is, how much I miss you, etc… This always leads to the next time I see him, him bringing up the picture as looks at me so intensely and says, “I promise you, those ashes are just ashes, he is always with you, always surrounding you.  I know he never leaves your side.” He says it in such a way that I without a doubt, believe him and truly do think that I am never without you; spiritually that is.  Still, it doesn’t make my pain any less.  So, on nights like last night, if you truly are around me I think to myself, This must be so hard for you to see. We were just having a normal, family night in our kitchen and your daddy and Quinn had just returned from playing basketball at The Village. Poppy was sound asleep and we were chatting away.  Liam came walking into the kitchen, visibly upset.  I asked him what was wrong.  He just stood there, fighting back his tears, trying to be so brave and strong but he couldn’t continue to hold anymore of his emotions in.  Your daddy grabbed him as he choked out the words, “I miss Ronan.”  This led me to stop what I was doing, which was busily cleaning up the kitchen as I watched your daddy hold Liam as he buried his head into his chest.  I surveyed the room and we all looked so… helpless.  Quinn was sitting at the kitchen table, and he kept looking down as if he didn’t know what to do.  Your daddy was holding in all the screams and cries that I knew he wanted so badly to let out.  Liam was sobbing.  I grabbed something and threw it as hard as I fucking could at the wall.  I then went over and grabbed Quinn and held him. I told Liam that he needed to get his feelings out, how that it is all too much to keep in.  I asked him to elaborate on the “I miss Ronan.” He told us how he misses playing with you and just wants to see you again. I could say nothing except for I was so sorry and I would give anything to bring you back. We talked about the importance of sharing our pain and our feelings.  Your daddy told Liam how sometimes he parks his car before going into a court appearance and just screams at the top of his lungs.  I told your brothers how I pretty much cry everyday still and that it’s o.k. to still be so sad that you got sick and cancer stole you away.  Your daddy reassured your brothers that we as a family are safe and will always be together. I took Liam and we went and snuggled on top of his bunk bed where he cried some more.  It was a rough night for everyone and Liam asked to see Dr. Rachel again so I made him an appointment.  I am so proud of him for knowing when to ask to see her and not being ashamed or afraid of it.  I started this post a while back, Ro.  We are doing alright and some really wonderful things have been happening, all because of you of course.

I really don’t even know what to say about all the beautiful things that keep happening except for I continue to be blown away by people’s beautiful hearts and the way they just want to do good things in the world, while expecting nothing in return.  Last week was one of those really, really amazing days.  The kind of amazing day that after it is all over, I can do nothing but bury myself in my bed and sob like a grieving mother who just lost her child, all over again.  It all started with a normal, “let’s collect toys for Ronan’s Candy Cart to take to the kids at PCH on the oncology floor.”  And you all were amazing to donate so many awesome things.  My friends, Katie and E, started collecting toys as well at their stores.  I was all set to go to PCH on Wednesday, but then my friend sent me a little text message. Her text said that her friend, Adrian Wilson, who is an NFL player, wanted to help with the candy/toy cart and was wondering if he could go to PCH with us on Thursday to deliver some things. I was of course over the moon about this so I sent an email over to PCH to ask if the day could be changed to accommodate Adrian’s schedule.  They were more than happy to do so for us.

I met E at Toys-R-Us this morning and a shopping we went.  I let E tackle the girl things as she has 3 of them and I took on the boy things as I don’t know a lot about the girl world of toys, just quite yet. Poppy is slowly teaching me but as of now, she is most interested in my car keys and anything else she an chew on like the teething little babe that she is. We loaded up cart after cart after cart… about 20 of them, packed full of the most amazing toys possible.  I made sure to grab a ton of Star Wars stuff and just about fell over when I found the Clone Trooper that stood about 3 feet tall.  Hot tears splashed down my cheeks as I grabbed him and told Poppy to move over for her new friend.  Ronan would have loved him was all I could think in my head.  As it came time to checkout, I helped to bag up the toys while E stood over the cash register with the biggest smile on her face.  I swear I saw freaking rainbows, fairies, and mother fucking unicorns flying over her head as it was that magical of a moment.  Adrian had offered to pay for EVERYTHING.  I was doing such a great job at keeping my shit together but then some random lady stopped me and said, “Are you the one doing this amazing thing for the hospital?” I told her I wasn’t, that it was NFL player Adrian Wilson and I was just lucky enough to be a part of his generosity. Well, I almost got all of those words out before the tears started splashing all over the Toys-R-Us floor.  There was no keeping my composure over this act of kindness at all- it was just too bittersweet and beautiful.  On my way to PCH, I called your Nana, sobbing.  I told her what I was doing, who it was that was this amazing thing and how sad I was that you were not here to see any of it or be a part of it.  We talked for a few minutes before I hung up and officially had to pull it together before stepping foot on the hospital floor.  We loaded all the toys into wagons, went and met Adrian at the front of the hospital and off we went to the 7th floor of PCH.  We were there for about 2 hours and everyone was so excited to see us and even more excited that Adrian had taken the time to come and do such a kind thing.  We got to go into most of the rooms and Adrian was so sweet and kind, offering pictures and autographs to all the kids and even their parents.  There were a lot of older kids on the floor who were sweet about all the dolls and toys that we brought, but were not really that in toys as many of them were older teens.  Adrian took care of that problem by getting their shoe sizes and told them the next day, we would deliver Jordan’s and Van’s to them from his sneaker store, High Point.  How crazy generous was that?  He stayed true to his word and the next day I met E at his store and we pimped those kids out with not only new shoes, but hoodies, stocking hats, socks, and watches, etc… Poppy and I dropped everything off and got the nicest phone call a few hours later about how excited the kids all were.  It felt so nice to be able to know that we were a part of making those kids smile for at least a few hours.  Adrian Wilson will forever go down as a hero in my book and I will forever be grateful that I was able to be a part of it.

I had a really hard time on Christmas Eve.  I picked your daddy up at the airport and was a total mess.  We ended up going into town to finish  up some last minute things and all I could really do was sob in the car while he tried to have some what of a conversation with me.  “Who is coming up to your parent’s tonight?” he asked me at one point.  I named out, “X, Y, and Z… and not Ronan!!!” I was sobbing, panicking, and not really breathing very well.  At some point while he was in a store that I could not go into because of my grieving mother of madness appearance, I got on my phone and started distracting myself with my Instagram feed.  The first thing that popped up was Taylor’s account as I guess she had just posted a new picture.  Through my red, swollen eyes I looked at the picture of her and her brother, in their matching Christmas pajama’s. Talk about adorable. Upon closer inspection I saw she was wearing something on her head.  It wasn’t just something, it was your Spicy Monkey Spirit Hood that I sent her.  I smiled though my tears and as your daddy got in the car I showed him the picture.  “Look, Taylor is wearing Ro’s hood.” He squeezed my hand and said something about how that had to make me feel a little bit better.  I told him it did and the timing of seeing that picture could not have been better.  It came just when I needed it most. To me such a simple thing served as a little reminder that there is so much good in this world, even during the hardest of times.  It also gave me that little extra push I needed to get through the rest of the day and night because Liam, Quinn and Poppy deserved to have a beautiful Christmas, Ronan, despite the always empty chair at the dinner table that will never be filled.  Thank you, sweet Taylor.  You make the most beautiful little spicy monkey and you have no idea how much seeing that smile on your face meant to me.  I hope you and your family had the most beautiful Christmas. I love you so much.

Christmas is over and we all survived.  I went out in the early morning before everyone got up to have some time to myself.  I talked to your Sparkly before I had to face the reality of you were not coming downstairs to unwrap the gifts we had bought for you.  He was working on Christmas of course and I gave him my best, “Are you busy saving the world today,” before I decided to sit on the phone and let him talk me through my tears.  I pulled over and listened as he did his best little pep talk which mostly consisted of “I’m so sorry and you know there is no good reason for this… Ro should be here with you.” I told him I knew, I loved him and thanked him for calling me as I knew his words would help carry me through the rest of the day like they always seem to do. They did and I let myself get as lost as I could in your brothers and that Poppy girl.  Watching them and seeing the smiles on their faces made Christmas some what bearable this year.  Poppy’s energy seems to be infectious to us all in such a good, positive way.  Thank you so much for her, Ronan.

It is good that we are away in Washington State for Christmas.  I was really needing a break from the never-ending sunshiny state that sometimes drains my soul.  I don’t think I can ever spend a Christmas in Arizona again.  I mean, of course I would if Liam and Quinn wanted it that way, but they are always so excited to come here.  Here it is dark, damp, dreary, and I can run for miles while getting lost the thickness of the fog that forever feels like home.  Here, I can breathe and I don’t have to constantly be wearing sunglasses to hide my tear soaked eyes.  Here, it just looks like my face is covered in the raindrops that are spilling down from the sky but we both know the truth, right Ro? And here that truth feels o.k. I’ve missed this place so much.

Sorry for the massively long update of everything and nothing. So much more to say, so sad I haven’t been writing, but I promise to get back to this once my book is finished.  I love you.  I miss you.  I hope you are safe.  Sweet dreams, little man.

xoxo

P.S. A HUGE thank you to Adrian Wilson again for the beautiful thing you did.  You are the definition of a beautiful soul.  Now, if only we could get that NFL to go GOLD for all the kids during the month of September…

P.P.S- Tyler Knott, you are the bees knees. Now please marry Ally. Thanks so much.

 

 

An 8 month birthday and 31 month death-i-versary. F U 31 months.

tumblr_mna64w9RBz1r5ar1wo1_500

Ronan.  Thanksgiving is over.  There was no Macegiving this year, as our sweet Macy that saves us on every holiday, could not swing coming in.  She was heartbroken about it, as were we.  We all missed her so very much, but we will be seeing her soon in January which we cannot wait for.  Of course I got all crazy trying to make a plan for Macegiving, without Macy.  After a lot of panicking in my head, crying, and thinking how can I possibly do another holiday without you? I aborted freak out mission in my head.  I made a different plan instead and it was called, “Stop putting so much pressure on yourself because it’s just another day.”  I gathered my thoughts and took some time to think about what this Thanksgiving/Macegiving/Fucksgiving meant to us as a family.  I talked to your daddy about what he wanted to do and what I was wanting to do and we came up with the most non-stressful, no pressure plan ever.  I knew that I wanted to go to Phoenix Children’s Hospital that day for a couple of hours to take around your candy cart, so I gathered up some of my best “homies” and that is what we did.  The hospital was packed, unfortunately.  I was hoping it would have been empty on this holiday as it’s so hard to be stuck in a hospital on any day, but Thanksgiving day just seems extra unfair.  I was glad to be there and it felt good to make so many kids/parents/siblings smile.  Doing the candy cart and handing out gifts is really what got me through the day.  We then came home to a super low-key Thanksgiving that wasn’t so bad and it almost just felt like another day.  We hung out, ate, watched football, and had ice-cream cake for Brianna’s birthday.  You were of course, were missed by us all.

Things seem to be moving at an incredible rate and not slowing down any time soon.  Some how, your Poppy sister is 8 months old today.  How in the world did that happen?  She is getting to be so much fun and your daddy has started calling her, “The Honey Badger” because of the way she is so determined about everything in life.  She is already so feisty and fun and has keeps us laughing a lot.  She has been so good for us all, Ro.  Your brothers absolutely adore her and she has brought back such a positive energy to our entire family.  Needless to say, I don’t know what we would do without her and I am so very thankful for this little gift you have given us.  I’ve said it before, but she truly has helped to save not only my life, but my soul.  Tomorrow, also makes 31 months without you and I still don’t know how that is possible either.  The fact that 3 years without you is approaching soon still leaves me breathless with the hugest pit in my stomach that I am starting to really believe will never go away.

I’ve also been having a really hard time writing this book.  So much so that the other day, I had a full on break down about it.  I’ve been writing a ton, Ronan, but that is it.  Only writing and not feeling a thing, while writing.  Uh, that has not been good for me at all.  Part of the reason I am doing this book is because I have certain things I need to feel while writing as it has become my form of therapy. I’ve been feeling numb and stuck, which has been leaving me frustrated beyond belief. The other night when I was in the middle of one of my pity parties to your Sparkly, I totally lost it and was about to the point where I was not sure what to do or how to fix this problem.  I took a little time out, had a long talk with you and what you would want from all of this, and all of a sudden it all became so clear to me.  I sat down, printed out all of my words and announced to our entire house hold, “I’m starting over on this book.” Liam and Quinn were like, “WHAT?! You can’t start over! Look at all you’ve written!” Your daddy chimed in, “Boys, sometimes that is what happens and we need to just be supportive of your mom.”  I started writing right then and there and I cannot seem to stop.  Finally, it feels right and I am so excited about the way I am doing this.  I am basically just using everything I had written out, as a road map to help me guide me along.  I’m also taking a little advice from my new pal, Ernest Hemingway who says, “Write hard and clear about what hurts.”  That is precisely what I am doing, all while keeping you right here with me.  Thanks for the good pep talk the other night, little man.  I really needed it. Now, back to book writing I go.  I’m sorry for the short update, but late at night is the only time I really get to sit down and write, so I have to focus on this book.

I miss you.  I love you.  I hope you are safe.  Sweet dreams, best friend.

xoxo

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Please join us for a very rocking night with Bret Michaels

tumblr_ms9tiwA4Xv1qbb8dlo1_500

 

 

 

http://wingilariver.ticketforce.com/ordertickets.asp?p=408&backurl=%2Fdefault.asp%3FSearchMonth%3D3%2F1%2F2019%26monthsubmit%3D%26SearchText%3D%26Go.x%3D%26Go.y%3D%26pg%3D2%23abc

“Hey guys, do you want me to move back in with you?”

tumblr_mqyqlt4jPc1rod34eo1_500

Ronan. Yesterday was a shit storm of a day, emotionally wise for me. I think I spent the day crying for almost 24 hours straight. It’s not enough that I have a dead kid, but sometimes I feel like I am supposed to be saving the world, along with everyone else around me. Most days I can handle it, but then after taking on so much, for so long, I will end up cracking. I had a super intense day of missing you yesterday and I just wanted a day where I could sit quietly, miss you and grieve for you, but I had some other things come my way that I needed to try to take care of. I had a day of feeling like I was doing nothing right, I was hurting everyone’s feelings, and all the expectations that people expect from me… well I just cannot not live up to them. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to live up to them. It’s hard for me to maintain relationships where people expect certain things of me. I will eventually let someone down, and I’m really hard on myself about that. It’s a kind of pressure that is just sometimes too much on top of all of this so instead, I just shut down and go away. I am just trying to do my best and I am fully aware that my best is often times, not good enough for others. I am always sorry about that and this is why the people who I am closest to in my life, know not to expect a thing. It’s really the only way I can do friendships now. They expect nothing and go completely bananas when I do rise up to the occasion and my hard work seems to be paying off. Take Stacy for instance. We had a phone call the other day with Bret Michaels assistant to get everything lined up for something we are doing with him. Bret has been so supportive of you and this fight, and I am so thankful for that.  About an hour after hanging up the phone, I saw I had a message from Stace. I listened to it and she was going on and on about what amazing things I have done, “I am so proud of you. Look at everything you have done, and you just keep going on with more and more amazing things. Ronan would be so proud of you.” I listened to her message, sobbing of course. Her words meant so much as they always do, but on that day especially as the day seemed to be extra hard for me. Stacy called to let me know how much she loves me, even when I can be bratty/hard to understand/crazy/overly emotional about everything related to you; because that’s what true friends do. They don’t want to tear you down, true friends are there to lift you up, especially in times that seem extra hard. For me, those are most days and Stacy never seems to forget that. I am truly grateful for friends like her.

It feels like a lot of people forget that at the end of the day, despite all the good I am trying to do, I am still just a grieving mom. It’s been hard to navigate the people who have come into my life and I’m suddenly having an identity crisis of being paranoid that I have been used and feeling like people have taken our situation tweaked it to their advantage. When it comes to all things  you, your life, your death, and everything that has come after, I am so protective and so sensitive to every little thing. I was driving to the airport to pick up your daddy and I was crying so hard I could barely see the road. I pulled over to take a little break and I also wanted to send CC a little text to check up on her as she was suddenly very on my mind. It turns out she too was having a shit storm of a moment exactly when I texted her. I called her and she picked up, crying too. I couldn’t even talk. “What’s wrong, what’s wrong, what’s wrong! Talk to me!” She yelled into the phone. Talk I did. Or more like the blubbering cry that I have come accustomed to. I could hardly get any of my words out, but she always knows what the huge problem is and why it is that I will forever be crying. I told her what it was that had set me off. I listened to her, listen. She calmed me down, but was still crying herself, therefore, I continued to cry as well. So that’s pretty much what we did on the phone for a good 45 minutes, was talk and cry and talk and cry. I hung up feeling sad for my friend and sad for myself but so thankful to have the friendship that we do. One where she knows I will never judge her and she will never judge me. I think back about going through all of this and the way Charisma treated me. Like her dying little flower that she would let wilt and die, but she would always be there to water it. I think back to the conversations I had with Charisma after you died, Ronan. A lot. They got me through some really dark times. I remember being on the phone with her a lot, always late at night as I would go outside and pace back and forth. “Maya. I didn’t like that last blog post. I’m scared for you. What can I do? Walk me through your head right now.” I would walk her through things and I always appreciated how honest she was with me about how hard this was, to watch me go through. She never whispered about me, she whispered with me. It doesn’t get much truer than that. That is a good soul. That is a good friend. I know she will always be here to whisper in the dark with me, Ronan. I always do this on the phone with her while looking up at the stars wondering if you can see me. Did you see me all those times, pacing like a wild animal, trying to explain to Charisma the method behind my madness? I always felt like you did. How I hope you still do.

We are back in Phoenix. Summer lazy lifestyle is officially over. It was a good summer, but for me, it was a very intense hard summer as well. Some reasons I will disclose. Some reasons I will not. Let’s just say I have been distracted by some very intense things going on inside the cancer world and on a personal level as well. Summer was hard and heavy, but I imagine it always will be. Your Sparkly said it best after listening to all that was going on when he said, “Darling, I’m so sorry you’re dealing with all of this, but you cannot save the world.” I know this be that doesn’t mean I won’t continue to try.

On my last night with your Nana and Papa, I was sitting on the floor with Poppy and we were all kind of watching, “Orange is The New Black,” (my new favorite series that I am NOT embarrassed to say I watched in an 24 hour period) I looked up to see your Nana sitting on the couch and Papa Jim in his chair.

“Hey, do you guys want me to move back in with you?! That would be so fun!”

They both just kind of laughed and Papa Jim said something like, “Oh, yes! Please do!” In his smart-ass voice.

“I really would. You guys are really awesome roommates.”

I don’t think your daddy would be down with that, but the bottom line is, I LOVE BEING HOME. With my family, so much. We are always so well taken care of and loved there. Thanks, Rosa aka, Mom. You are the best mom on the planet and I love you so much. Thanks for ALWAYS loving and never judging. Even when I was at my worst. We miss you and Papa Jim so much already.

Alright, little man. I need to go now. I’ve got another post to post after this, explaining a little about what has been going on in the cancer world that I am just SICKENED over. It’s something we’ve been dealing with for months, but only now am I going to speak very lightly about it. Why can’t people in this world just DO THE RIGHT THING? Especially when it comes to bright minds who are only trying to save the lives of others.

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

xoxo

  • 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
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 24,342 other followers

%d bloggers like this: