Ronan. I am in the eye of the storm. The month of hell. You are working really, really hard, to make sure I survive this. You have been working so hard, that I can hardly keep up with all of the amazing things that have been going on. This week has been a blur. Between finishing my 30 day hiking challenge, working on some things for your foundation, preparing for our trip, a couple of amazing dinners about some ideas that I would like to see happen, getting ready for your birthday at PCH… I don’t even know what day it is. That is probably a good thing for today. I would not have made it through the week if I had been sitting around, thinking about where we were, last year at this time. I know where we were. I had 5 days left with you. Just 5 days. And tomorrow it will be four. I still don’t know how this can be, but it is. This is just the way it is and there is nothing I can do, to change it.
I had one of the best nights I’ve had in a really, really, long time the other night. You just happened to make sure your Fairy RoMo, got dropped in my lap at the beginning of the month of hell. How in the world did you pull that one off? I don’t know, but the stars aligned and the next thing I knew, your Fairy RoMo just landed in my lap. It just happened to be on the night of Rita’s birthday, too. The two of us met up with your Fairy RoMo at some Hotel that seemed to not have a name because it was as if we were somewhere completely else, not 10 minutes away from our house. We sat outside, under the stars and got lost in the night. We talked, laughed, cried, and worked on our evil little plans to take over the world, while curing childhood cancer and traveling to Iceland. I watched them, watch me. I watched the way they looked so so sad, yet both of their eyes sparkled in the night whenever we talked about you. I listened to the most beautiful story about a purple balloon that was let go in Central Park for you. I started to cry during this story. Not only out of sadness but also out of love. The sadness and love of the story that was told was one of the most beautiful things I have heard since losing you. I watched my friends as they looked at me and said, “You have to stay here. You promised.” I told them I knew. I remind myself of the promise I made 50 times a day to keep me going. After a very late night of lots of Roplans I came home exhausted but I felt peaceful. Being in the presence of those two very special souls heals little pieces of my heart. They leave me feeling inspired and my soul awakened. I know they are both gifts from you. It was because of them, that I made it through that May day.
Now it is a new May Day. May 6th. 3 more days. 3 more days is all I had left of you, at this time, last year. I had to get out of Phoenix. We left today. Left to go far, far away but it will never be far enough. This is not a vacation. This is a get me the fuck out of Phoenix for the day that he died/his birthday. Vacations will never exist in my world again. We made it to our destination and I hate the reason that we are here. But all I can continue to do is to continue to fight upstream in this never-ending battle of a current that wants me to drown. It is a constant never ending battle and on days like today, I get really tired. Days like today that consist of long airplane rides with a little 5-year-old stranger that sits right across from you in the aisle of the airplane. I wanted to say to his mom, “Hey! I have a 5-year-old too! He is right next to me. Maybe our two little boys could play together on this very long, very boring, flight to hell. Wait? You are not going to hell? I am. Because my 5-year-old is dead. So I don’t get to have him here anymore. But so nice meeting you! Have a great vacation!”
I didn’t get to say any of those things. I sat on the airplane with Quinn instead and did not even cry. I felt numb. Yeah. I scooped out some of your ashes this morning before we left. And guess what. I didn’t even cry doing this. How is that possible? Because I am that strong? No. It has nothing to do with strength. It has everything to do with this being so unreal to me, that it is not real. I often leave my body when I have to do things like this. I leave my own body a lot and I swear I float above, watching the girl below scoop out her child’s ashes of his urn while not crying. Sometimes it’s the only way to get through this. I don’t know how I’m going to survive these next days coming up but what choice do I have? Your brothers are happy. Your brothers are excited. I am trying my hardest to act happy and excited too, Ronan. But everything is screaming that this is all so wrong. Everything is screaming to get me as far away from this fucked up world as possible because there is nothing right about any of this.
This is all for tonight, baby doll. This is all I can do. I’m so sorry. I love you. I miss you. I hope you are safe.