Can someone print that picture below for me, and put it on a tee-shirt. I think I would like to wear it, everyday, for the rest of my life.

Ronan. Day over. Almost. I was a good mama today. I got the boys up and ready. I said, “Do you two want to go to the zoo today?” They both did. I tried to let me feet do a happy dance but really my heart dropped to the floor. O.k. Zoo. Without Ronan. You can do this. And do this I did. I packed those little brothers of yours, up in the car and off we went. We saw Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my! But no Ronan. I still looked for you, everywhere I went. We walked around the zoo for a good 3 hours. At the end of our adventure, we stopped to watch the spider monkeys. Quinn ran over to them, before I could get there. “MOM!” he yelled. “That monkey is eating the others monkeys butt!!!” OH.MY.GOD. I walked over, to inspect the situation. Sure enough, that was the case and Quinn could not stop laughing. Liam started gagging. Other people came over to see the monkeys. Everyone yelled out something in disgust. I told your brothers how you would have went crazy over the little monkeys disgusting grooming habits. You and Quinn would have had a field day with what was going on in front of us and lasted until I seriously started to get sick to my stomach and had to tear your brothers away from the spectacle. We drove home with Quinn still giggling. Liam was just confused and didn’t really think it was funny at all.
We got home, I fed your brothers lunch and offered to take them to the rec center to play basketball. As soon as we were about to go to the gym, Quinn looked at me and said, “Mom, I don’t feel well.” The next thing I knew, he was puking in the bushes. I turned us around and took everyone back home where I laid Quinn down for a nap. I told him I had a sneaking suspicion it was the pound of Kettle Corn that he ate at the zoo. Sneaking suspicion was right as he is totally fine now. While Quinn was curled up in bed, I was trying to find the basketball game on T.V. for him. He was flipping through the channels. He stopped on MTV’s, “Teen Mom.” I told him to keep flipping the channels, that this was not the basketball game. “What’s Teen Mom?” he asked. UGH. Really, MTV? I might hate you and your Teen Mom show. “Ummm… it’s a show, about young mom’s who have babies.” “Why do teenagers, have kids, and then get a TV show about it?” he said. “Quinn, that is a really good question. Because society is stupid and likes to watch crap like this. Please change the channel.” He did. Thank god. Otherwise the remote control was going to get thrown through the T.V. I don’t watch T.V. EVER anymore. That Teen Mom show, makes me hostile. It is everything that is wrong with our stupid society and the way it glorifies all the things that do not deserve to be glorified in this world. Being 15, having a kid and then becoming “famous,” for it, is RIDICULOUS! It makes me angry and is one of the biggest reasons I just cannot watch TV anymore. Too much stupid shit being put out there, that our society seems to be obsessed with. I turn on the T.V. rarely anymore. I don’t watch the news, therefore, I have no idea what is going on in the world. The noise makes me anxious. The stories make me mad and my skin crawl. T.V. quite simply is of no comfort to me, whatsoever. I miss the days when I used to be able to get lost in the world of Jeff Lewis from “Flipping Out.” I miss Jenny and Zoila. I miss my friends from “Law and Order.” But most of all, I miss the days of snuggling up with you to watch “Mickey Mouse Playhouse,” “Clone Wars,” or “Glee.” Maybe that’s why I hate T.V. so much now. Because that was our special cuddle time together and now it’s feels so awful to be without you, that I cannot seem to do anything that we used to enjoy. That does not explain my hatred for MTV’s Teen Mom though. Seriously, MTV. Get your shit together. You are embarrassing.

I did not run today. I did not surf today. I spent the day, trying to get lost in your brothers. I don’t know how many times I heard them tell me, “Thank you. Please. Yes, mom. O.k. mom. No thank you, Mom. Thank you for cooking for me, Mom. Thank you for taking us to the zoo, Mom. Thank you for taking care of me when I was sick, Mom. Thank you for the ice cream, Mom.” As much as I love this, what I wouldn’t give to have you here, yelling at me, “NO!!! I am NOT eating that broccoli!” while throwing it across the room. What I wouldn’t give to have you here to push every single button in the elevator, before we got out. What I wouldn’t give to have you here, to do all the naughty things, that you loved to do. I miss your spiciness. I feel lost, without it. I had some random people come up to me the other night, out at the pool. They had been in the hot tub with Liam and Quinn. They must have been around 40. They came up to me after they saw Liam and Quinn, come over to get bundled up in a towel. They looked at me for a minute. The man said, “Are you the mom of the twins?” For a second I thought to myself, “Ohhh, crap. What did they do?” But then I remembered, nothing, because they aren’t boys like that. “Yes, I am.” I replied. “Wow. Your twins are awesome. We just had to come over and tell you how we sat in the hot tub with them, for 25 minutes and we have never heard 8 year olds, talk as eloquently as yours. You should be really proud of them. They are exceptional little human beings.” I just smiled. “Thank you. That means a lot to hear. Today is their 9th birthday. I am really lucky, they are great boys.” The lady looked at me and said, “We are here on vacation, away from our kids. Your boys, really made us miss ours.” It took everything I had to say, “They had a really great brother, too. But he died of cancer. So they have been through a lot, which might explain why they seem a little different than kids their age.” I wanted to say this, but I didn’t want to ruin their night. Plus, I knew if I did, I would not have been able to get my words out, without choking on my tears. I just let the moment happen and the moment pass, while pretending that my heart wasn’t breaking on the inside. I know they would have told me how amazing you were too, if you had been there with Liam and Quinn, like you should have been.

Alright little man. This is all I’ve got, for tonight. I’m sorry you couldn’t go to the zoo with us today. You would have been the wildest animal, there. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe.


This is not how things should be, but this is how they are

Ronan. Today, June 11-17th is International Neuroblastoma Week. I’m not sure what that really means, besides trying to make people everywhere, aware of this deadly disease that nobody is talking about. For me, it just makes me want to throw up. I’m aware alright. I’m aware in the worst way possible. I’ve got your urn sitting right next to me, to prove it. Today, I watched the Navy Seals do their morning run on the beach like they do every morning. Wasn’t it just a few years ago, you and I, were running on the beach with them? I would throw you in the jogging stroller and off we would go in the early morning, to run with them. Now, I just watched them from the window of my room and my head started spinning thinking of how much has changed in such a short amount of time.

I don’t understand a lot of things in life now and that makes me angry. Thanks to the power of social media, and the world that I now live in, I swear I am getting updates everyday of kids who are dying from this disease, over and over again. I got one yesterday. I simply read, “Princess such and such won the victory over cancer! She is cancer free!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Finally! Someone who has survived this disease! I went on to read the rest of the post. Princess did not survive this disease. Princess died. WTF. WTF?!?!?! What is going on in the world, that people are not more angry that these kids are dying? Why are we making it acceptable by using the terms, “She was so excited, about earning her angel wings and flying up in heaven.” I’m pretty sure a six-year-old girl, is not excited about dying. I’m pretty sure she is scared as FUCK. I am scared as fuck for her and she was not even my child. So, what is the right answer? I don’t have it. I don’t know what I would have done if you had known what it is, that was happening to you. I don’t know how a parent lives with that. Maybe they cannot which is why they choose to turn this all over, to someone else. Maybe they are so beaten down, broken, and rightfully so, that they just cannot choose to think of things as any other way. I don’t know that I could have lived with knowing that you knew, exactly what it was, that was happening to you. I think you just thought you were getting your sleepy medicine, and you were going to wake back up again, the way you always did.

Sometimes, I feel like I am I the only one out there who is angry about this? It seems like I am the only one in the world, who is angry. It seems like I am the only one out there who is stopping to take a look around and saying, “No. It is not o.k. that my child is not here. I am not going to be o.k. and just place this in the hands of God and move on because Ronan is where he should be and now, so let’s have a party and celebrate because Ronan is an angel.” FUCK THAT SHIT TO BLOODY HELL. I get that people need their faith and their religion to help them get through things in life. Fine. So be it. But I am not here, to get through life anymore. I am here to do something with my life that means more to me than just getting through and placing this in someone else’s hands, to handle. Ummm. No. Ronan was MY son. Ronan was MY everything. Ronan deserved to be with ME and NOBODY else. I am not just handing him off, to somebody else and going to be alright with this. Fuck off for that. To me, that would make me a bad mama to him. I am still his mom. So that means, I still get to say what it is, that I will do for him, even without him being here. And if that means being angry and not accepting that he is off, flying so high in the sky above me, while riding on unicorns and being happy, then that is my choice. I know my son. He is the other half of my soul. I know there is no place he would rather be, than here with me. And anybody else that says otherwise, is either so ignorantly blind that they cannot see straight or they are just in serious denial because they cannot even fathom what life would be like, to lose one of their children.

I sent your Sparkly one of my ranting texts the other day. Do you know what I told him?? I told him this, “I would like to know when people are going to realize that praying, is not going to cure cancer. It’s a nice thought and I understand it’s how most people cope/deal, but it’s a shame. Cancer is not going to get cured, by praying. It’s going to get cured by people like me who will stop at nothing to fight, find resources, educate themselves, think outside the box and who are angry enough, to make a difference. I am not going to hide behind my prayers. Nothing will get done this way. EVER. Praying is not the freaking answer.”

That is my truth. I am not a doctor. I am not a scientist. I don’t pretend to even come close to being able to understand the complexities of this disease. What I am, is your mama. What I am is a mama who is left here with so much fire, passion, and anger for your precious life that was stolen from us, that I am not willing to ever slink back and come to peace with what killed you. I am haunted every single day with two images of you. One being the most beautiful little boy, who ever lived and the other being the way, you looked, right before you died. It is the image of you dying, that haunts me the most and brings me to my knees. This is why, I will never be o.k. with, “Oh, he is pain free now. He is an angel up in heaven. I am just so happy about that.” This is why I will not stop fighting for you and this disease, until I am either dead or there is a cure or a better chance for survival, with less toxic treatments. No mama deserves to watch her child die. And if they have to, because I now know this world of childhood cancer and how it is everywhere, they should be taken care of better. They should not just be tossed out into the streets and sent on their merry way, the way we were.

This is what I hate the most, besides everything. You are gone. Your daddy is in Phoenix. Liam is sleeping in his bed, in the other room. Quinn is of course, snuggled up with me. We are all apart. This is not how things should be. But it is, how things are. I have two choices. I give in. I throw in the towel. I quit because sometimes I am so tired of this life that I just cannot take it. But you know what quitting means, Ronan? It means I lose EVERYTHING. Not just you, but it all. I don’t want to lose it all. At one point, I may have thought I just didn’t care. I do care which is why I will continue to stay here and fight, not give up and not give in. I know I am not capable of doing all of this on my own anymore. I think for a very long time, I did a lot of this on my own. I don’t want to anymore. It’s all too much to handle, by myself. I am thankful for the one person who never lost sight of me, when I lost sight of myself for a very long time. The one person, who never stopped loving me, even when I stopped loving myself. The one person in the world, who never turned his back on me now matter how hard I pushed away. I quite simply, don’t know what I would do without that daddy of yours. I am most sorry to him, for all of this, because he only deserved to have the best life possible because he is the best man that there ever was and ever will be. I hate that this happened to him so much that some days I think the pain from that alone, will destroy me. That’s a hard thing to live with. It’s a hard thing to watch, see and feel. On top of everything else.

This is all for tonight. I’m too tired. Too sad. And I miss you so much. I love you. I hope you are safe. I am so sorry for everything.


13 months without you and 9 years with Liam and Quinn



Ronan. Turns out, I don’t do so well, in Coronado. I don’t think I did so well here last year, and I don’t think I’m doing so well here, this year either. It just dawned on me, a few days ago as to why. It dawned on me, while I had been sitting in bed for the entire day, watching one certain video of you, over and over again. The video is of you, when you were maybe almost two. I shot it right out in front of the beach that we have been playing at every single day, since getting here. It might just be one of my most favorite videos I have of you. Where you are sitting in the sand, you take a handful of it, shove it in your mouth and eat it. I yelled to you, “Ewwww, Ronan!!! Don’t eat the sand!” You looked me dead in the eye, and shoved some more sand in your mouth and ate it, again. I love that you ate the sand. I love so much, that you ate the sand, again, even when I told you not to. I cannot come back to Coronado again, next year. I cannot keep coming to the same place, that we used to take you every year, without you. Not having you here, and trying to make all these new memories in the very same spot I spent so much time with you, is not happening. It’s making me sick to my stomach. I keep looking for you in the pool that I used to watch you swim in, the beach that we used to run on, the grass we used to play in, and you are just not here. This is the last summer that we will come here. I cannot do this again.

I have been taking your brothers across the street every day to play basketball. And I’m not the kind of mom, who just sits on the bench and watches them play. I’ve been playing with them. Engaging, encouraging, running, and jumping with them. Doing it all when it takes everything I have, to do all of this. I was doing fine, until a mom came into the empty gym with her 3 boys. An older boy who was about your brothers age and twin boys who looked to be about 3. I was doing fine, until this mom started playing with her 3 boys too. I looked over at them, laughing and shooting the basketball. I tried my best to ignore them. I was getting ready to make a sweet lay-up, and all of a sudden, I felt like I no longer had the attention of your brothers as I could feel their eyes, elsewhere. I stopped what I was doing to see why it was that nobody was guarding me or trying to block my shot. My eyes fell over to Liam and Quinn. They both looked like they were in a trance and were stopped dead in their tracks, watching this mom and her 3 boys. I did my, “Hey, you guys! I’m going to score on you!” But they both didn’t budge an inch. They were totally engrossed in this mom and her 3 sons. I wanted so slit my wrists, right then and there. I tried to throw my basketball so hard into the backboard, that is shattered the glass, everywhere. That plan didn’t work. That glass is pretty resistant. You know what isn’t resistant? The palpable pain in your brothers eyes. The way I swear I could see your reflection, in their eyes due to the way they both miss you, so much. I did my best to distract the situation at hand and it took everything I had not to just stop and scream at the top of my lungs, ” HEY! LIAM AND QUINN! STOP STARING AT THAT MOM AND HER 3 BOYS! JUST STOP! I KNOW THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN US! I KNOW I PROMISED YOU THAT RONAN WOULDN’T DIE! I KNOW RONAN WAS OUR ENTIRE WORLD! I KNOW HOW MUCH YOU MISS HIM! I AM SO SORRY FOR EVERYTHING! I AM SO SORRY NOTHING WILL EVER BE THE SAME! I AM SO SORRY WE ARE ALL SO SAD AND WE HAVE TO LIVE WITHOUT HIM! BUT PLEASE, STOP STARING AT WHAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN AND WHAT WILL NEVER BE AGAIN! PLEASE! IT’S KILLING ME!” I didn’t yell that. I gathered your brothers up instead and we left the gym. We came home, I fed them lunch, and then they went off to play with your cousins at the beach. I stayed behind and sunk into bed for the rest of the day. I think I’ve been in bed, off and on, for days now. I’ve been going for some runs, here and there. I’ve been surfing a little. I’ve been crying a lot. Quinn asked why I’ve been sleeping so much. I’ve been sleeping a lot more than normal. I guess not as much sleeping, but more laying in bed, crying. I woke up crying this morning. Your daddy wanted to know what was wrong. I told him the same as always, but today my sadness seemed extra heavy. It wasn’t until half way through the day, that I realized that today is the 9th. 13 months now, since you’ve been gone.

Today, is your brothers 9th birthday. I cannot even believe, it’s been 9 years since I had them. They have grown up so fast, in the best and worst way possible. The best being that up until losing you, they had the best life possible. Since losing you, they have had to grow up in a way that one should never have to grow up. They are more insightful, compassionate, and wise beyond their years due to watching their little brother get cancer, and then die from it. I would not wish their wise beyond their years ways, on anybody. We all did the best we could do today. It was actually an o.k. day and your brothers seemed to have a great birthday. Thankfully, they have your cousins here to take away some of the sadness. They spent the day playing basketball, video games, swimming, and now they are all tucked in having a sleepover and watching a movie. We all dropped your daddy off at the airport tonight as he had to go back to Phoenix. It’s always extra sad when he goes. He won’t be back until next week so I’ll have to figure out a way, to find my pretend happiness while he is away. I cannot just lay in bed, crying all day as your daddy is not here to take your brothers off and away so they don’t see that. Thankfully, your New York Miss Macy is coming in on Thursday for a few days. I can be guaranteed some happiness on the days that she is here. She is the sunshine in my life that always makes everything better. The days are less gloomy when she is here. A true gift from you indeed.

This is all I can write tonight. I’m tired from the day. Happy Birthday to your brothers. I am so lucky to be their mama. They are the best things that I have left in my life, besides your daddy. I love you. I miss you. I wish you could have been with us tonight. I tried not to cry as I watched them blow out their candles. Everything they do, is a reminder to me, of what you are not here to do. I’m sorry, baby boy. I hope you are safe.


Somedays, the littlest things are too much



Ronan. Tonight, I am sad. As in, really, really, really, sad. I suppose that was bound to happen, after the build up of the marathon, the actual marathon itself, and now it’s over. I am sad, every single day, but today I just miss you so freaking much. I had a quiet day. Those are the days when I miss you the most, because if you were here, there would have been nothing quiet about my day. I hung out at the beach with your brothers and cousins for part of the afternoon. That pretty much sucked. For as much as I love seeing Liam and Quinn, soak up every single thing that they should be, it still feels wrong to me. I am still constantly still looking for you, over my shoulder. Doing normal things, is still not easy and it still stings. Today, I tried to get lost in the ocean for a bit, on my surf board. Not even that could wash away my pain today. I stayed out only for about 40 minuets. The waves were big and I  kept getting tossed underneath the water, again and again. At one point, I got tossed so hard underneath the water that I thought I might drown; but then I remembered I was wearing my wetsuit. I may have hoped to drown for a few seconds, but my headed popped up above the surface of the water where I could breathe again. Lucky, aren’t I?

After our afternoon at the beach, I brought your brothers back up to our place. I played the role of the best mama ever. I made them dinner, sat and ate with them, did laundry, cleaned up, watched a movie with them, and tucked them both away in sleep, in bed with me. The big huge gaping hole in my heart won’t go away, today. The lump in my throat, won’t go away today. The alligator tears, are never-ending, tonight. Somedays, I get tired of being so strong. Somedays, the screaming questions of why, why, why, are unbearable. Somedays, I get tired of hearing how our story has made people, better people. Somedays, it stings to hear how much of a better mama or daddy people are, because of us. They all get to tuck their kids in at night. I do not. I will not, ever again. Where is my prize? I just want you.

I’m sad tonight, so I’m going to end this now. But I’ll leave this sad little post, with something sweet down below. A little slide show of how I got though May, how I ran a marathon, without training, and how I will continue to get through this life without you physically here with me. With the help of a lot of a lot of inspiring people out there, who remind me that I am strong, even when I think I am not.

I love you. I miss you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, baby boy.


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Training is for suckers! 26.2 Easy breezy, baby!

Ronan. I might be awesome. I woke up this morning at 4 a.m. and thought to myself, “I’m running this marathon today. It’s going to be easy.” I showered, dressed, tucked a baggie full of your ashes, inside my little carrying belt and woke up your daddy and brothers, to drop me off. I had your daddy take a sharpie and write your name all over me as well as Ava’s and our little dragon friend, too. Because you are all worth fighting for. They dropped me off at Balboa Park and off I went, alone, to wait for my race to start. While I was waiting, I sat in the grass, took my sharpie and wrote some more things on my legs like, “Fuck Cancer.” I had some girl come over to ask if I would write on her too, so I did. I put her friend, Christy’s name on her arm, her mom’s and then I asked her if she wanted your name on there as well. She said she would love that so I wrote “RONAN,” in huge letters on her arm. She told me she was only doing the half marathon and thought it was awesome that I was doing the full. She asked how long I had trained for and I told her I hadn’t trained at all. She looked at me like I had 3 heads and said, “What?! That’s crazy!” I just smiled and told her I knew. The funny thing was, I wasn’t nervous at all. I hadn’t set any expectations for myself except for I just wanted to finish, and have fun. I secretly in my head had thought to myself that I would like to finish in 5 hours, but I didn’t put a ton of pressure on myself about it.

I got to my corral and before I knew it, we were off and running. I was running, running, running. My pace felt good and I felt relaxed and almost as this was a little too easy which did not make any sense because I really have not been running at all. I kept my mind focused on you most of the time with bursts here and there of everyone who I knew, that was rooting for me. That made me smile and pushed me to run harder. Heather and Sam were waiting for me around mile 9 which I loved. Heather was all dressed up in some crazy purple outfit and they had about 20 purple star balloons for me. I carried those balloons for about 3 miles. People kept yelling at me that the balloons were slowing down my pace and to let them go. I didn’t care. They made me smile. I kept holding on to them until I found a little kid on the side of the road, to give them to. He was so excited and it made my day, to make his.

I think the first half of the marathon, I totally kicked butt. I do remember thinking around mile 10, “Shit, how am I really going to run this whole thing?” I quickly pushed that thought out of my mind which wasn’t hard when I remembered the reason that I was running. For you and all the other kids out there dying from or fighting this disease. I thought about you and all that you put up with. The surgeries, the chemo, the broviac dressing changes, the bone aspirations, the radiation, the traveling back and forth, and being torn out of your perfect little 3-year-old world and transformed into hell, in the blink of an eye. That was the only reminder I needed to shut the “oh my god this hurts,” voices off in my head. I knew that nothing was going to stop me. I hit the halfway mark and started to have a lot of fun. There are P.F. Changs photographers everywhere, I ran past one of them, flipped him off and he yelled out back to me, “HAHA, hey fuck you!” He was cracking up, which made me crack up. I yelled back at him, “That was to cancer!” He yelled back, “I like your style, Rockstar Ronan!” This got me to mile 16 and by this time, my left toes were numb and hurting. I looked down and the entire front of my left shoe was covered in blood. I pulled over, took off my shoe to reveal bloody toes galore. Ouch. I quickly decided there was nothing I could do about this, so I just put my sock and shoe back on to continue on running. I was in a lot of pain so I walked when I needed to. I had a dance party in someones front lawn. I drank a beer around mile 19. Some kids had a table set up outside their house, with cups of beer in it. Why the heck not, I thought and I chugged it. It made me laugh and think of you and how you used to love to sip on your daddy’s beers. Somebody else was passing out Otter Pops. This may have saved my life! Never has an Otter Pop tasted so good! I think I had about 3 of them, also while thinking about you as this was one of the last things that I fed you. I maybe got a little emotional at one point, but I pushed my tears aside because my sadness turned to anger which pushed me to keep running. I saw Heather and Sam again and they covered me in silly string. I stopped to talk to them for about 5 minutes. I wasn’t really concerned with my time as the fun of it all, made me care less. Around mile 20 Becca and Holly were screaming for me. I stopped to talk to them for a while, too. They asked how I was, I yelled, “This is easy! Fuck cancer!” They both looked like their eyes were going to pop out of their heads. They told me they were expecting me to be hurting and hardly walking. They were expecting to see a whole different Maya then the one who was smiling back at them. After I finished chatting with them, I ran off to finish my last 6 miles. The last six, were the hardest. I walked a lot. My left foot, was throbbing and I was limping. I had no clue of my time but I was thinking I was well past the 5 hour mark. I walked for about 2 miles, then once I knew I only had a couple more miles to do, I started to run again, but my running only lasted for bits here and there. The last mile I powered through and ran as fast as I could with my bloody and blistered toes, telling me to stop. I didn’t listen. There was no way I was walking through that finish line.

Your daddy and brothers were waiting for me. I started to tear up for a few reasons. One being because I was so happy to see them, but I was so sad that you were not waiting at the finish line for me, like you should have been. A mix of emotions, filled me. Happiness, sadness, excitement, disappointment, anger, and relief. I also felt pretty proud of myself. I looked at your daddy and said, “Worst time ever, right? That had to be well over 5 hours.” He goes, “No way. You finished at 4:51. That is a great time, for not having trained at all.” I smiled. “Really?! No way!” I could not believe my time was under 5 hours. I totally winged this marathon, stopped a bunch of times to just hang out/take it easy/drink a beer/eat some oranges/pound some Gatorades/have a dance party in some random persons yard. I didn’t take anything about this marathon seriously except for the reason I was doing it and the reason I was going to finish it. I had a BLAST. When I trained for the New York one, my time was 4:27. If I wouldn’t have spent all that time, goofing off for this one, I would have beaten my old time! But I think that would have taken the fun out of it for me. I think I will always do marathons this way, for the rest of my life. No training. Just enjoying the experience of it without any expectations or build up. After I ran the NYC one, I said I would never do another one again because I was so burnt out. After running this marathon, I am so ready to do another one! What a difference a good attitude and a little perspective can make in one’s life. This right here is proof that it really just is mind over matter. If you want something badly enough, and you have a big enough reason to go after it with all that you’ve got, anything is achievable. ANYTHING.

So today, I am sore. But not as sore as I thought I would be. Today, I am filled with a proudness within myself, that I have not felt for a while. I know you were there, with me yesterday, pushing me when I needed to be pushed, but also reminding me to have fun. I felt your spirit filling me throughout the day, whenever I would laugh, giggle, or do something a little naughty like flip off the photogs. I ran that marathon for you and all the other kids who won’t ever be able to run a marathon because they were cheated by cancer and death. I’m so sorry for that. The only thing that would have made this better, would have been you waiting at the finish line, for me. Your brothers and daddy looked so proud. I know you are proud too. That’s all I want in life, besides a cure for that asshole called Neuroblastoma; is for you to be proud. I think you were yesterday. I think this is why I know I am going to do amazing things for you in life. Just to make you proud. I promise you this.

I miss you, I love you, I hope you are safe. Thank you to everyone who helped support me with this little crazy idea of mine that turned out to be something amazing where our goal was achieved. I will be talking to Scott from Solving Kids’ Cancer tomorrow or Wednesday and we are going to get the show on the road to fund Dr. Mosse’s trial as enough money was raised. This was also for her. For her dignity, grace, braveness, and compassion that she fights for every single day in doing the work that she is does. I am thrilled to be able to support her. Love you, all. Thank you, again. None of this would have been possible, without you.



Meet our newest Advisory Board Member!!

Ummmm…. I am kinda giddy. I woke up this morning to one of the best emails of my life. I am honored to have Dr. Giselle Sholler, as an addition to The Ronan Thompson Foundation Advisory Board.

Check her out, in the link below. She is the Rockstar of the Neuroblastoma world, and we are crazy about her! She is doing such amazing things in the name of this horrific disease. We truly believe in everything she is doing and know she is going to make a great addition to our very special board of very special peeps!

June 2nd is a good day. Lots of beautiful things happening. Thank you for your continued love and support!!


Hellllooo June! Nice to see you!

It’s not the critic who counts

It’s not the critic who counts,
not the man who points out
how the strong man stumbles
or where the doer of deeds
could have done them better.

The credit belongs to the man
who is actually in the arena,
whose face is marred
by dust and sweat and blood,
who strives valiantly,
who errs and comes short
again and again because
there is no effort without
error and shortcomings,
who knows the great devotion,
who spends himself in a worthy cause,
who at best knows in the end the high achievement of triumph
and who at worst, if he fails while daring greatly,
knows his place shall never be with those timid and cold souls
who know neither victory nor defeat.

– Theodore Roosevelt, 26th US President

My marathon is Sunday. As in, this Sunday. I stuck by my words and did not train at all. I did a few runs, here and there. But in no way shape or form, did I train for this marathon. I saw an opportunity, and I ran with it. I wanted to raise enough money, to help fund Dr. Mosse’s trial at CHOP. I did not want to have to throw a normal fundraiser, to do this. I took this on as a personal challenge to myself, to see if I could actually get this done. I did it. We raised enough money, in just a few short weeks, to do this. It was a lot of money. I am over the moon about succeeding. None of this would not have happened, without all of you. All of you who believe in me, so much, that you donated what you could donate. Whether it was 1 dollar, or 5k…. the bottom line is, I have a world of support surrounding me that will continue to help me move these mountains. The impossible will be done because I have the most amazing group of people, supporting me at all times. This would not exist without this blog. This is what makes every backlash, every “you are doing the wrong things,” the “stop putting all of this out there,” SO WORTH IT. It is so beyond worth it. I always said Ronan’s Foundation is not here to be conventional and like every other foundation out there. There are some amazing ones out there, do not get me wrong…. but I know Ronan’s will be different. Ronan’s is his and mine and nobody is going to take this story away from us. May the bridges I burn, light the way to something else so extraordinary, that the normal human in the box thinker, cannot even see yet. I can see it. I’ve always been able to see it. My eyes are Ronan’s eyes. I see everything through my child’s eyes, and today, they are not blurry. Today, my soul is on fire. Today, I am so proud of who I am, who I am becoming, and who I hope to achieve to be. I am proud of all of my mistakes as they are my mistakes to make and I try my best to learn from them. To grow from them and they help me cut to the chase with a lot of bullshit in life that I am just not dealing with anymore. I am thankful to my parents for giving me the gift of an open mind and an open heart. I learned all of those things, from them. Now, all I have to do is run this marathon and finish this marathon. I am going to try my hardest and try my best. I will finish. It is going to be ugly, but I will finish. No matter how bad my time, sucks. All I care about is crossing that finish line and making you all proud. This is a also a personal test to myself. If I can do this, I can do anything I set my mind to. I am going to run the entire marathon thinking about Ronan. About our love and our loss. About how this is all for him and always will be. I have no doubt this marathon will be filled with so much pain, determination, courage, strength and fire… that it can and will be achieved. I do not doubt my heart at all. I will not only carry Ronan with me, but all of the other babes I now know and love. Ava will be heavy on my mind as well as a sweet little girl named Charlotte Rose Kelly, who passed away from Neuroblastoma as well. Her mom reached out to me and sent a very generous donation to help us fund Dr. Mosse’s trial. She says I give her strength with my words. Once again, this would not happen without this blog. I am so thankful for you, Patrice. That you are able to see my light in the darkness of all of this. I will run extra hard on Sunday, thinking of you and your sweet baby girl. I am so sorry that you know what this pain and my tears feel like. I wish it was not this way, for any of us.

I knew that the first thing that I was going to fund was going to go to Dr. Mosse. Your daddy asked if I was sure about this because there are a lot of people that need support and money for research. I looked your daddy in the eyes and said to him, “Without a doubt, 110% this is who this money is going to.” It is the least I can do for her. This is not about just the research for me. This goes much deeper than that. This is about a person, who had a very hard job to do, in telling 2 parents that there was nothing that could be done for you, Ronan. This is about a person, that had the courage, grace, compassion, and dignity to look us in the eyes and tell us how truly sorry she was. This to me, Ronan, is PRICELESS. I am doing this for her, because of what she did for us. Although, she never had the privilege of taking care of you, she took care of me in the only way she could have, instead. By giving me the gift of looking me in the eye. I will always be so thankful for that. So, Sunday is going to be here before I know it. I am not running in a new pair of shoes. I will wear the purple one’s that I always wore, with you. I will wear my NYC Yankees hat, because it is always what I wore, with you. Those 2 things have been with me though out your treatment and after. I will never throw them away although my purple pumped up kicks have seen better days. I am not running in anything else. I know you will be there with me, pushing me when my body is ready to give up and quit. I am going to need you, little one.

I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who donated and made this possible. This could not have happened, without you. Thank you for not giving up on me no matter how many times I have “offended,” you. Thank you for being able to see past that and finding it in your hearts to see beyond the things that may appear on the surface. Thank you for not forgetting that this is about a sick little boy, who never hurt a fly and did not deserve any of this. Who could be angry at a child and turn away from that due to words that I may write? Take my words away and if you can still picture Ronan’s face and are filled with anger or disappointment due to the things that I have said, then I freaking feel sorry for you. I don’t want your support anyway. Go give it to some other charity like “Save the Unicorns of the World.” Because that right there, will cure childhood cancer. This is about something so much bigger than my words. This is about a life of a child that deserved better. This is about the life of all of the other babies, kids, and teenagers who are diagnosed and will fight cancer while everybody else, tries to looks the other way. This is about awareness. I must be doing something right if I have almost 2.7 million hits on this blog. I have to think that most of you, are still here because you believe in good over evil. Because as I have often said before, there will be beauty that comes of this. No matter how ugly it may get. If you are still with me, I thank you so much for not looking the other way. I thank you for being brave enough to laugh with me, cry with me, scream with me, get mad at me; but you still find it in your hearts to never give up on this story and to never give up on Ronan. I love you all. See you on Sunday, 26.2!

P.S. That quote above was sent to me today, by one of my former lovies of the month, Kassie. I think I will print it out, and read it every freaking day. Thanks, Kass. Once again, I would not know this kind soul, without this blog. I will never regret any backlash because all of the beauty that has come from this, so outweighs it all.