Ronan. Where are you? It’s the question I ask myself a hundred times a day. How did I get here? To the place I don’t belong. Will I ever belong again? I’m seriously starting to doubt it. Do I even want to belong? I’m thinking not. Do you see me? Sitting in the dark, sobbing on the beach? It’s been a few days since I’ve written. I’m sorry. I always miss you so much more when I don’t write to you. As I go through my day, my mind does it’s best to try to make me focus on other things, besides you being gone. I think it’s a defense mechanism…. to get me to function, to get me up and doing things such as trying to be a mom to your brothers. My mind pushes the pain of missing you so much, away. Stuffs it down inside so that I am still numb for most of the day. It’s only at night that I am able to sit and process everything. It’s my quiet and alone time that I need with you to go on. It’s our special time, together. Just you and me, baby. Like you would always tell me.
The days are still blurry. Filled with keeping your brothers busy. Trying to shield them from all the screaming sadness in my head. I cracked tonight. They saw it all. It was bound to happen and I feel terribly guilty about it. But even I cannot control when I am overcome with sadness and just need to cry for you. It just comes and once the floodgates open, there is no stopping it. I should know the warning signs by now. I know the cause. It happens when I don’t do my daily running, when I don’t get 5 minutes alone to cry about you, when I don’t write to you. It all piles up. Tonight, I just gave in and bawled until snot was dripping out of my nose. Sobbed on this bed in front of everyone. I decided I needed some air so I left for a walk to try to clear my head. It didn’t really help, but I could at least feel like could breathe a bit, instead of feeling like I am walking with a plastic bag over my head, suffocating. The fresh air, dark sea, and cold sand was where I needed to be so I could sob, alone about you tonight. Without the watchful, worried eyes of your brothers. They don’t need to see me at my worst any more than they have to. So, here I sit at 12:00 at night, on the beach, writing to you. Screaming at the universe that I hate it. Because I do. Nothing will ever make sense again. Ever.
I sat today and talked with a dad. A dad who lost his son. And it seems as if I have somewhat relived losing you all over again today. Every single thing that came out of his mouth are all the things I think in my head. For the first time since you have been gone…… bingo. Everything this dad said to me made perfect sense. And that is huge because I have decided that nothing will ever make sense again and most people don’t know what the fuck they are talking about. He didn’t sugar coat anything, he didn’t tell me that the pain will become less or go away, because it won’t. He did tell me how he had to make the decision to not become bitter and angry, and how to keep it together for his younger son who was 4 at the time. How he didn’t have a choice and he had to figure out a new life. How is happy again. He told me happiness will come again to me. He of course cannot tell me when…. 3 months, 3 years….. nobody knows the answer to that. As I sat and watched this dad today we both got pretty teary eyed. The pain in his eyes is almost indescribable. Except they look exactly like mine. All day I walked around thinking about this dad and why in the world such a thing could happen to him and to his son. He’s a really good dad and person and this makes no sense. I’ve come to the conclusion that there will probably never be an answer. And I’m pretty convinced that there is not a God. Shocker. I’ve struggled with this for a while now. If there was a god, shit like this just wouldn’t happen. A god wouldn’t have taken you away, Ronan. The love for you in this world should have been enough to save you. End of story, Ro. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was bad fucking luck and doctors that just didn’t have the answers.
Everything is broken now, and I don’t want to fix it. I want time to sit and be sad and cry for you until I am ready to heal bit by bit, piece by piece. I’m not ready to be put back together yet. And anyone that pushes me to do this before I am ready can just sit back and watch as I pull away. Because pulling away is just second nature to me. It takes A LOT for me to let people in just in my normal life. Letting people back in now, after losing you, is going to be very difficult. I don’t mean this in a hurtful way, but it’s my way of protecting myself. Just like that little turtle that I spoke of a couple of posts ago. I will take my little head, peek out to see what’s going on, and pull it back into it’s shell, only to come out when I feel that it is my time. I may lose people in the process, but now, my only concern is survival. Survival for me, my marriage, and my kids. Those 3 things right there are what I am trying to focus on to keep our family together. I know the statistics on the families who lose a child. 90% end up divorced. Lovely. As if our pain isn’t enough. Tonight, as I was looking up at the sky, I actually wished for it to suck Woody, Quinn, Liam, and I up into it. To swallow us whole. At least we would all be pain-free and we would all be with Ronan, together. Fuck this world. Life is overrated after you lose a child.
After I sat on the beach forever, Woody came down to find me. We met up on the boardwalk and he wrapped his arms around me. I snuggled into his warm chest and just cried. He held me for a long time. We then sat down on a bench together. Talked a bit and I just told him how I just really miss you so much today. He said he knows. He gets it. He told me that for as much as he is hurting, he cannot imagine hurting more. And he knows that I am hurting even more than he is. He knows my pain is so much deeper than his. Not many fathers would admit that. But this is not any father, Ro. You know that. He is the most amazing man that has ever existed, besides you little one. I love that daddy of yours. Even though he is the one I push away the most because he is the one who will take it and I know this. It is so much easier for me to push away than it is to let people in. Obviously I’ve got some underlying issues that probably need to be discussed in therapy.
Your daddy and I sat on a bench for a long time while I just cried. The sky was all cloudy and dark. Pretty soon, the clouds started parting ways and I could see the little moon trying to peek it’s head out. A few minutes later, a full moon was reviled. It was gorgeous and lit up the whole sky and beach. I told the moon that I loved you to the moon and back Ronan. Your daddy and I held hands and walked back to our condo to tuck everyone in.
I’m so tired tonight. I have so much more to write about but better stop here. I love you, Ro baby. So much. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, my love.