Dear 11 Fucking Months. I think I hate you.


Ronan. This solitude thing… it’s alright. It’s necessary. I’m doing it as much as possible. As much as I can for still being among the living, while really being dead. That’s what I feel like lately. It’s o.k. It’s part of this process for me. For as much as I’m checking out, I am still checking in when I can with the people who love me the most. With the people who I love the most too. I’ve been spending most of the days, solo. Hiking for many hours. Trying to be mindful of the way I’m feeling and not trying to distract with busy, busy things. There is a time for that. It’s not now. Right now, it’s time to check in with myself and that’s about it. Right now is not the time for the business that usually consumes me. Thinking about the past few days I know a lot of things have gone on. I woke up this morning to an empty house due to your brothers staying the night at your Mimi and Papa’s. They were going to be gone all day long which I knew was more than I could handle… you know, the whole being home alone until the evening. I woke up and thought, “Fuck. This is not going to be a good day, if you are home until 5 or 6 tonight, in this quiet, empty house. I threw some things in a bag and headed out the door. I sent Dr. Jo a text that simply said, “Coming up there for the day to go hiking.” Up there being Sedona. Why not? It sounded like the perfect thing to do instead of a sad/lonely day at home. She told me to just come to her house when I got up there and we would go hiking, together. Even better.

I arrived around 11 to the one place that now feels like one of the safest places in the world to me. A place that fills me with solace and gratitude. The comfort of Dr. JoRo’s house and that beautiful place of Sedona that she lives. I am no fool. Without her I am quite sure I would not still be here. I’m not too proud to admit that she has pretty much saved my life. In a weird way I feel like she’s been waiting for me for a long time. Or rather, we’ve been waiting for each other. I’m quite sure we were supposed to meet in this life. Just fucking sucks it had to be this way. I’m just thankful I found her when I did because if I did not, I am sure I would be in a mental ward, doped up on 20 different drugs, because don’t you know, a pill makes everything better/go away. Fucking emotionally irresponsible bullshit that medication thing is. More on that later…

Dr. JoRo grabbed her expert friend/neighbor in all things Sedona/nature/trails to take us on a little adventure. It was a good 2 hour hike where we talked but in a quiet/respectful way. It as nice as nice can possibly feel. Much better than being at home, lifeless, in bed where everything hurts so much that I think the pain alone is actually going to kill me. We returned to her house where I gave her one last hug before she leaves for her trip to NYC. So wish I were going with her. Missing our favorite big city so much. After I left Jo’s I decided I was not ready to go home yet. I drove through Sedona to go on my own hike, with my non existent map. I found myself hiking through the trees, fighting with a lot of sticker bushes/ branches, and scaling the side of some huge rock to perch myself up on a cliff where I settled into a couple of hours of reading/writing/sitting with your blanket while the hot sun poured down on my shoulders. My own therapy for the day, I guess. I left Sedona and drove way too fast with the music blaring way too loud during the entire drive back to Phoenix. I let myself get lost in the world of Pearl Jam for a while which always makes me drive faster/miss you so much more.

I came home and your brothers were still gone. I jumped in the shower and decided I would meet Rita for a dangerous night out. We went to see “The Hunger Games.” This was totally dangerous for 3 reasons. 1) I never go to movies anymore. I have a hard time sitting still. 2) We went to some totally sketchy theatre (o.k. so not really… just downtown phoenix) 3) We went to “The Hunger Games.” A movie about kids killing kids. Or kids dying. Or if you have a dead kid, you should maybe not watch this movie. I didn’t really think about this, going into it. I didn’t really think about it until there was a scene where a little girl dies and they do such a good job making you feel it that I actually felt like I was the girl in the movie, kissing your lips for one last time and crying out like a mother who just lost her child. Feeling like the mother that I am who watched you die. I know what happens. I actually know what it really feels like in real fucking life and not just by watching it on a movie screen. Rita grabbed my hand and asked if I was o.k. I nodded yes as the hot tears slid down my cheeks. She held my hand until the scene was over and then asked if I wanted to leave. I told her no, that I was alright. I lied, but I really wanted to see the ending. It was a pretty good/entertaining in a Lord of the Flies kind of way, movie. One that I’m sure I would have loved before losing you because the reality of it would have never touched me, right? Yeah right. So we all walk through life, thinking. So thankful I don’t have that problem anymore, Ro. So thankful that I get to have you dead so I no longer know that I or anyone around me is immune to death. I fucking knew that before you. I talk to Jo a lot about how I always had a feeling that you were not going to be mine, forever. How I was never worried about you learning how to count to 100, how I never pushed education stuff on you the way I did with your brothers. I tell her I was always so happy and thankful for the exact moments we lived in. Not the next day moments. Not even the future. Just the present. Just when you were mine and I was yours in that exact second of the day. It made for the best/funnest life in the world. It made for the happiest life I’ve ever felt by just being with you. JUST BEING. There were no expectations. Everything was so pure and organic and real. It was just us and we really did whatever you wanted. You wanted to wash your trucks outside, naked, in the mud? Done. You wanted to rub your little dirty muddy hands all over our windows? Done. You wanted to spray our sliding glass doors with the hose? Totally! You wanted to color on them too? Alright! You want to stab our leather couch with a pen and make big holes in it, big deal, Ro. You were leaning/exploring/pushing boundaries the way you should have been. I was never going be the one to contain you creative mind. A mind that always seemed so much wiser than even mine. You knew what you were here to do. I truly believe that. I know you are still here, baby doll. It’s just the physical part of you that I miss so much.

Ronan. Holy shitballs I think I hate Easter. Actually, I don’t think I hate Easter, I know I hate Easter. Easter without you this year, sucked balls. And not in a good way. We didn’t celebrate Easter at all this year. We celebrated Feaster instead and it was awesome, for being not awesome. We spent the weekend hanging around the house. I cooked a Brisket and and taught your brothers about all things Passover. You cannot have a proper Feaster, without a little religion. So, we talked a lot about Passover and what it means. We went to our own church on Sunday which was in Sedona, at Oak Creek Canyon. We spent Sunday hiking, getting dirty, playing in the water and your daddy even jumped off the side of a cliff. We spent Sunday doing all things that you would have loved. I tried to have the best day possible by getting lost in the world of your brothers who seemed to have a wonderful time. I’m not going to lie. It was an exhausting day, for being as relaxing and peaceful as it was. There was not a better way for us to spend the day, but it was still brutal to spend our first/last holiday with you, without you. I was glad when the day was over and I was able to lay down and fall into my Ambien induced coma. I didn’t have a choice. Sometimes I just have all I can take during the day and fighting with my sleep last night would have thrown me over the edge. I fell into a black oblivion instead.

So, today is 11 months of fuckery. I spent it alone, on a mountain and at the car wash. I found myself at the car wash today and looking back now, as I sit here writing tonight, I can actually laugh at myself and the shit that happens to me on a daily freaking basis. Case in point, victim one today, Danny’s car wash dude.

-Danny’s car wash dude- “How was your Easter, Miss?

Me- “Shitty.”

DCWD- “Really? Why?”

Me- “Because I have a dead kid. Because my son is dead.” -insert flow of snot/tears here/dripping everywhere

DCWD- uncomfortable silence, “Ummm… what? Really? Well, um…. o.k. Well, are you o.k.? Like for real? Because you don’t seem o.k.

Me- “Oh my gosh. Um, yeah, totally o.k., I’ll really be fine.”

DCWD- “O.k… do you want your floor mats washed?”

Me- “Yeah, please. Thank you so much.”

You know what else happened? For the first time today, when some other dude at Danny’s Car Wash asked me how many kids I had, I said 2! I about threw up. I went to correct my mistake, but I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth and I did not feel like explaining myself because I knew I would end up in hysteria. So, I freaked out in my head instead and just walked away, in a daze. That’s when I was approached by the other guy and that’s when the “I had a shitty Easter and I have a dead kid,” came flying out of my mouth. I am surprised I was able to drive my car after that whole incident today. I came home, threw myself in our bed, and sobbed. Then I put on my clothes and went inferno hiking in the hot, hot heat of the day. After my inferno hike, I came home, showered and picked up your brothers from school. I took them for a snack and off to the batting cages where we practiced baseball and all things fun. I didn’t know trying to have fun, would be so freaking hard Ronan. I just want to bury my head in the sand. But I continue to keep trying, for the sake of them and nothing else. Because those little boys’ deserve to have a mom who has not checked out, for as much as I want to, I just can’t. We came home and I was so tired. I helped them with their homework and after having all I could take, I found myself in my freaking bed, once again. Crying. This time, Quinn found me. He cuddled up next to me, and asked me what was wrong. I told him I just missed you. He sat with me as I cried for a few minutes (no mom guilt here at all) and I then made myself get up. We spent the rest of the evening at Uncle Jay’s house (lifesaver) swimming, eating pizza, and watching the Suns game. Thank GOD for that Uncle Jay of yours. Your daddy joined us and this shitty 11 month day is coming to an end.

I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of being sad. I’m tired of all of this shit in this fucking crazy world. It truly is insane, Ronan. I cannot watch the news/read the paper because of all the things that I just cannot believe are going on. Some lady flushed her baby down a toilet. Facebook just bought Instagram for a Billion dollars. Everyone and their mothers are getting their own “reality” shows. Nothing out there, makes sense to me. It all makes me angry. None of it matters. It’s all “stuff,” getting in the way of real reality like kids dying and parents struggling to stay alive and survive. And wait… why are all these kids with cancer still dying and still being over looked? Shouldn’t this problem be getting a little better? See what happens, when I take a break? A whole lot of nothing gets done. I did hear that Mattel is going to make the bald Barbie though. I have not read the details, due to being unplugged from everything but I hope it is true.

Dr. JoRo is in NYC now. She asked for a little list of some things she could for me, during her one day off. These are the things I told her to do.

1) Run in Central Park at night. Thinking she probably will not do this.

2) Visit Sloan Kettering and kick Dr. Kushner in the balls for me. (she could totally dress up like a Ninja and do this)

3) Eat Fro Yo at 40 Carrots inside Bloomingdales. (this might be a little safer and was one of our favs)

4) Eat Pizza at Delizia’s for us. (another one of our favs)

I miss her so much already. She is not a very big fan of our favorite little city. I am doing my best to make her into a New Yorker, without being there to actually do it. Next time:)

Alright baby boy. This is all for tonight. Yes, I’m still in hiding and I have still been hiking every single day for our month of mother fucking madness. And today, I was EXTRA dangerous and did not wear sunscreen. My inner rebel was loving it. I love you. I miss you. I’m so sorry. I hope you are safe.

xoxo

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14 thoughts on “Dear 11 Fucking Months. I think I hate you.

  1. Glenda

    Thinkingof you romamam. And Rockstar Ro!!! Always Ro!!! Hope you have sweet dreams with your blue eyed spicy monkey! XO

  2. Ali Barnes

    I love the photo of Woody, Liam and Quinn in front of the purple tree…I know Ronan was there with you all. I don’t really have much to say except I’m sorry, Maya. It’s just fucking bullshit that this is your reality. A billion dollars for Instagram?! How about a billion dollars into pediatric cancer?!?!?! FUCKING ASSHATS!!!!!!

  3. A

    Dear Maya,
    I am so sorry. Life can be so hard and it seems like the worst things happen to the best people. I truly am wishing you peaceful moments today.

  4. Katie R.

    I’m glad you told the car wash guy what was real!! Not many people expect to hear whats really going on. If only we could all do that!

    I hope you are ok today.

    Big hugs from a Dallas girl!

    Katie R.

  5. Laura

    I’m glad you did the weekend the way you all wanted. As always you and your entire family is in our thoughts and we send you all our love.

  6. Melissa

    You have survived 11 months. That is one unfair fucking miracle. It was around this time last year when I was introduced to Ro–thinking of him and praying so fiercely for HIS miracle. I can’t believe it still, so I can not even begin to imagine that YOU can or ever will. I feel sick just thinking about it–and I am terrified that one of my babies could be next…all the while Instagram makes a billion dollars and FB has a billion to SPEND???? The money and difference that could be made by these people. RoLove needs to track them down and wake them up to the reality of childhood cancer….and if not that, then some other people/group/issue that could be significantly changed with a fraction of the money being thrown around over a frickin picture taking/sharing app???? Ughhh.

  7. Jenny Howell

    Hello, sweetheart. I am sorry 11 months was so rough for you. It is totally ok to go a little crazy. I do not have any eloquent words about that certain day each month. Next month is going to be hard, but you will get through it. Every month on The Date I expected a bomb to drop on top of my head. Heh, I should be so lucky! The emotional bomb came at the year date, but it was only 24 hours. I survived.
    Just feel. Do not have any expectations or predictions about the year mark. We will all be with you in heart!

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