Whipped Cream Kisses for Dessert


Ro baby. What in the world happened last night and today that I can exist on only 4 hours of sleep, like it’s no big deal? Oh, I know….your death. This coming from a girl who used to easily sleep 8 to 10 hours a night. Sometimes 12. I was totally that girl, that mom, that me. Not anymore. The peacefulness of sleep is hard to come by, especially on nights like last night where nothing out of the ordinary happens; just reality. Last night I fought sleep until 6 a.m. I did a lot of talking to myself, played a lot of musical beds, sent some emails, posted some stuff on FB about zombies and how 4 a.m. sucks. 4 a.m. sucks, but 6 a.m. when the birds start to chirp, is even worse. 6 a.m. and you know enough is enough, so you pop an Ambien because nothing else works. I slept from about 6:20-10 a.m. I got up, showered and my mind was racing with things that I needed to do, for your foundation. So much stuff that it was making my head spin. I went to my little Starbucks office and worked away not even feeling the hangover from the lack of sleep. I was really productive during my hours at the Starbucks office, despite the extra annoying, really bad soft porn music that blared from the speakers. I got recognized by a RoFan of yours which I was really surprised by because I only go to this Starbucks for the reason that I won’t run into anyone. It’s my secret Starbucks office where nobody knows my name. Or so I thought. Today, this girl was sitting by me for a while with a boyfriend or boy friend of hers. They got up and left and I was so into what I was doing, that I hardly noticed. A minute later I noticed the girl as she came walking back through the doors and headed straight for me. I looked up just as her soft eyes asked if I was Maya. I smiled and said yes. She told me she reads this blog. I asked her how long she had been reading it for and how she found out about you. She said she heard about you when we were on Channel 12, about needing an airplane to get you to New York. Whoa. What a sweet, loyal dolly. She’s been reading for a long time. She told me how sorry she was. I tried not to get choked up as I looked into the eyes of this girl who I swear could have been 17. I gave her a bunch of your bracelets and RoCards. She seemed so nervous and shy. I told her thanks for saying hello. I meant it. She made me smile.

Margarita stopped by the F U Cancer Starbucks office to say hi and help me with some things. Turns out, by the time she arrived my brain had turned to mush. I’m pretty sure she was looking into the eyes of a zombie but she still managed to make me laugh. A real laugh too which only a few people in my life seem to be able to make me do anymore. She being one of them. I had filled out an application for something (which will remain TOP SECRET classified information until more comes of it) and my application totally sucked balls. I filled it out last night during my insomnia marathon. Margarita looked it over and goes, “Yeah… I think we can do better than this.” HA! There is nothing I appreciate more than someone who can tell it like it is. She may have saved our secret mission today because if I would have actually sent in what I had filled out, I can guarantee you it would have went right into some fancy NYC recycling bin. Thanks, Rita. Rawr! You are a RoSaver! The rest of the day/evening was spent with your Luke, Daddy and brothers. We all went to the batting cages and hit some balls. I tried to enjoy it but as you know, when going to places like this I am constantly looking over my shoulder for you to appear. I don’t think I’ll ever stop looking for you. I watched your brothers as they ran around full of so much love and life, just like they should be. I closed my eyes and imagined you were there with us and for a split second, everything in the world was perfect. Simple perfection was ripped to shreds by the reality of Hell when the giggles of a child nearby forced me to open my eyes, just to make sure it wasn’t you. It wasn’t. Fucking fuck.

These are the things I’ve seen in the past 24 hours that I just can’t deal with because it is as if salt is being poured into an open wound. The real world. The real, non bereaved, I didn’t lose a Ronan and you did world. A lunch in the middle of the day at your favorite restaurant. A lunch with the best company in the world. A new friend and an even newer friend on the most delicious day (sunny. breezy. chilly. not rainy. sunny was delicious before you died) We sat outside as the breeze whispered in my ear and I swear I could hear your voice. My eyes gazed up from the menu only to fall on the table nearby. A mom. A dad. A little boy, around 3. A new baby. The little boy, roams carelessly around the tables. Almost in a mocking sort of way that only a grieving mother would feel. The parents look on, and drink their bottle of wine in the middle of the day. A whole big bottle of red wine. Another one is ordered. They pay no attention to the little boy as he wanders off, far off. Not far enough to get swiped up, but maybe….. it could happen. But the mom and the dad are so calm, so clueless, so free that they don’t mind. They trust in the world that the fates will be kind as they let their child wander about. They look as if they don’t have a care in the world and their big bubble looks oh so delicious. I watch with my blood-shot eyes, worrying……..over what? I’m pretty sure the cancer grim reaper does not live at Chelsea’s Kitchen. Hey! That’s too far! Hey! He’s talking to strangers. But the strangers just smile and laugh. He’s so cute they say. The mom and the dad don’t really reply, they look up and smile instead at the strangers almost in a conceited sort of way. They gaze into each others eyes as they’ve just had the best sex of their lives and now they are going to drink more wine and do it again. Their children certainly don’t cramp their style. They are so mellow and laid back. I’m pretty sure the VW bus strapped with surfboards on the hood and the California license plates, belonged to them. They continue to drink the wine. The little boy returns to the table. The mom orders dessert. The little boy goes back up in his high chair. So high. I watch as he eats the whipped cream with his mama. I watch her kiss it off of his lips, they way I used to kiss it off of yours. She asks for more wine. She is tiny, I think to myself. How can she drink so much wine? Don’t they have to drive home? Oh, how I hope they walked. But even that scares me. They have a brand new little baby, too. I’m confused. Wine. Toddler. Baby. Middle of the day. Smiles all around. Is this really real? Who lives this reality? It certainly isn’t mine. Is it everyone else’s, but mine? The little boy finishes his desert. He isn’t strapped into his high chair. He stands up in it and nobody cares. Or maybe it is that thing they seem to have going on where they trust in the world so much so they just know everything will be o.k. What’s that like? I can’t remember. He stands up and I start to count. 1,2,3,4,5…………. Hey! How is that allowed? He could fall! 45 seconds later and he almost does. But his mama swoops in to catch him right before the waitress does. The waitress gives a nervous giggle. The mom does not. She giggles as if something was truly funny. How is she so carefree, I wonder? Must be the flower in her hair. The long, flowy childlike hair. My lunch dates watch this interaction as well…. but not as closely as I do. I am borderline, obsessed. I would have never been so carefree with Ronan in a restaurant, I think to myself. I would have never let him wander without keeping my eye on him every single second. I would have never let him stand up in a high chair for 45 seconds only to catch him right before he fell. I would have never drank 2 bottles of wine, in the middle of the day. Or ever. What’s their secret? Because clearly they have the key to happiness. It was all over their smirky faces that were saying to me, you have a dead child and we do not! Sucks to be you! Or maybe they really do but I’ll never know. I know I cannot truly know the story of this family by my 60 minute observation. But in my mind, the story that I had made up in my head, was too much to take. After the almost high chair falling incident, I looked up at my 2 new friends like a deer in headlights. I’ve gotta go. This is giving me way too much anxiety. They both knew it and we quickly up and bolted. After paying, of course. Thanks, Rita;) I left your little restaurant, and that family behind yesterday. But not without feeling the stings from the open salt wound that is now my heart.

That’s my story tonight baby doll. It’s late. I’m tired but not really. I will try to sleep. I love you so much. I miss you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams. G’nite.

xoxo

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12 thoughts on “Whipped Cream Kisses for Dessert

  1. Teresa Dige

    Maya, first I just want to thank you again for writing this blog! I am obsessed, and I am not really sure I feel comfortable with that. Am I facinated by the horrific pain of a Mommy who has just been through the worst thing any Mommy could ever go through? Is there something remotely “entertaining” about that…I feel as though I should not read your most intimate of thoughts EVERY night before I go to bed. But I do! I do, and I am trying to figure out why? Why should I cry every night for someone I don’t even know? Why should I stay up until 2am reading about someone’s life that is just so sad and unthinkable?
    I will tell you why…because it is real and raw and it is life as I have never seen it. It is not some awful reality show…or some horrible TV sitcom…I do not even watch TV anymore, and that started before I even came to know you and your lovely Ronan. YOU ARE REAL…YOUR FAMILY IS REAL. YOUR HORROR IS REAL. That is why I read your scary words every night. As a Mommy, I will never know your pain…but I do know your passion! I do know that I love my children to the moon and back! They are my focus every single second of every single day! I don’t just THINK about their futures, I am doing things now to make their futures the best…I am being proactive, not just watching them grow up and figure it will all take care of itself when they become adults. I would never let them roam away from me, EVER! I would never have a drink in the middle of the day, or any time of the day in front of them, EVER! And I certainly would never take my children or their safety for granted, EVER! That is why this is so heartbreaking for me…you did everything right! You care about your children and their safety and you love your children with the unrelenting love of a MOMMY. YOU HAD YOUR RONAN AND NOW YOU DON’T!!!! I CAN’T COME TO TERMS WITH IT, HOW CAN YOU?
    I know that I would be broken into a million pieces if one of my childrens futures were not to be! If one day I woke up and one of them was gone. How would I go on? I think I keep reading because I am hoping that one day, you will be able to get to sleep, you will be able to get through your day without complete sorrow following you around, you will be able to not have to look back for your Robaby and he not be there…I guess I am hoping that it will get better for you! I think I love you…I don’t know you, but I love you. I wish I could be as inspiring to you as you are to me. I love my babies harder now, since I have come to know you and ALL your boys…and I didn’t think that was possible. I love my husband as I never have before I came to know you and your Woodman. I am more aware of the fact it could be taken from me at any time. That is why I have committed myself to helping raise awareness of this horrible, evil invader! FUCK YOU CANCER! I want to scream this out loud all the time! It is what is REAL in this life. You can have your Fuckin drama, reality tv shows, crappy news programs, shitty FAKE people who pretend to be happy…I will take Maya.

  2. Glenda

    Maya,

    Thinking of you and Ro! Always Ro! and always FUCANCER!!!
    xo
    Hope you were able to get some sleep and dream of your beautiful blue eyed mini Pitt spicy monkey! ❤

  3. Sara Maurer

    Aaah, I hope you gave them a bracelet! It aleays makes me sad when I see stuff like that. I’m a waitress, and I hate serving people alchohol with little kids.

    You have such a great heart Maya.

  4. Becky

    I just re read some of your old blogs tonight. I am just so mad! Something has to change! I can’t stop thinking about it. People need to open their eyes and realize this could happen to any of our children. Perfectly healthy today, gone tomorrow. I can’t stand it! I feel your pain but no one could ever understand it unless they’ve gone through losing their baby to this horrible disease. keep plugging way and inspiring us all to help end this craziness!

  5. LE

    Wearing Ro around your neck, and wearing an FU Cancer t-shirt provides the opportunity to spread the word about childhood cancer and why you are so passionate about it.
    I intend to make a shirt that says FU NEUROBLASTOMA …AKA CHILDHOOD CANCER
    I want that word there to be able to catch an eye, spark a question, not just CANCER. CANCER is a scary and universal word, it needs to be broken down to specifics. I am gonna list as many childhood specific cancers on the back of my shirt. They all need to be wiped out. No child should be dying.
    I think the banner that is on your partnership t-shirt website that has just Ro’s eyes- across the top ….should be on a t-shirt. His eyes bring reality to the life that is in them. You can’t not look at his eyes, there is a message there. Live Love Laugh and fight for the lives of our children!

  6. Hilary

    I read this and thought of you…I hate the words as they should never have had to be written but I think they are very eloquent. I send my love, hugs and special twinkles to you all. x

    “Do not judge the bereaved mother.
    She comes in many forms.
    She is breathing, but she is dying.
    She may look young, but inside she feels old.
    She smiles, but her heart sobs.
    She walks, she talks, she cooks, she cleans, she works, she IS,
    but she IS NOT, all at once.
    She is here, but part of her is elsewhere for eternity.”
    –Author Unknown

  7. Anne

    Some good news for you! This morning, the FDA reported that the preservative-free methotrexate shortage has ceased. The email I received from CureSearch says that:

    Based on quick action by numerous pharmaceutical companies, and thanks to your calls and letters, preservative-free methotrexate is being produced and shipped to hospitals and treatment centers in need. Many companies who were not major producers of the drug, or in some cases, were not making the preservative-free version at all, have increased or begun production in order to stop the shortage. The FDA believes that based on new production schedules, the shortage will be completely resolved.

    And on a more personal note, I want to share with you that my son is the THON chairperson for his fraternity at Penn State. This year they raised over $10,000,000 to support childhood cancer! I’m so proud of him : )

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