Leaving on a Jet Plane… without you.

Ronan. I’m leaving on a jet plane. Don’t know when I’ll be back again… Kidding, kidding. I am leaving on a jet plane, and I do know when I’ll be back again. I’m going to your favorite place in the world, besides our house. I’m taking your brothers to Nana and Papa’s, for the trip we’ve been taking since they were 6 months old. I don’t know how I feel about it. I never know how I am going to do going to places anymore. All that matters is THEY are so excited. All that matters is how THEY feel. I can put myself on hold. I feel nothing except numb. Your daddy asked me this week if I was excited to go. I just looked at him with my, “Really?” look. He then said, “O.k. excited is not the right word.” I told him all that mattered is that Liam and Quinn were excited. I think I will be good once I get there. The Pacific Northwest is good for my soul. And I do miss my parents. It will be nice to spend some time with them. It’s good for all of our souls as it warms my heart to watch your brothers playing the way I used to play when I was little. Lots of simple things. Everything outdoors. Mud. Rain. Picking berries. Splashing in rivers. Forest nature walks. Clean air. It’s calm, peaceful and quiet. All things I miss so very much. I like sleeping in my old bedroom where I grew up and not much has changed. I will miss you my little snuggle bug so very much though. You loved to cuddle up with me and we would always sleep with the windows open and fall asleep listening to the frogs, grasshoppers while the cool, crisp air lulled us to sleep. It’s fucking bullshit that you are now sleeping forever. Please hold on while I go and throw up. There has been a lot of that going on again, lately.

What has gone on this week? A blur of things. I remember a lot of conversations. Your daddy told me something while I was sleeping last night about someone’s son dying of an overdose of pills. Some celeb’s son. I don’t remember who. But I do remember asking your daddy what kind of pills they took. I remember him being mad/annoyed at my question, but I fell back into a deep sleep. Without my Ambien. Good girl, me. It’s been a week of tears. Bits of insanity in a totally sane world as sometimes I feel as if I am so alone that I am truly insane while everyone else gets to live in a sane world with all of their kids, safe and sound. I miss that safe/sane/happy/no REAL problems exist because everything can be fixed when you don’t live in a dead kid or my kid has cancer, world.

The conversations float through my mind that happened the past couple of days. Words that are always filled with pain. I got told that I looked peaceful. I tried not to cry. I smiled instead. “Well, I don’t feel peaceful, except for in this moment because I am around you and you make me feel that way.” I soaked up the peacefulness like someone who has not seen sunshine in months. I got asked why I was wearing my glasses. “Because they hide my tears better. Because after crying all day long, my contacts can only take so much. I like the world better when I can hide my eyes.” I got told you were missed. I said I knew and it hurt my heart. It breaks my heart over and over again. Not just for me, but for the others around you who loved you so much. I’ve decided that there is no totally fixing my broken heart. The second pieces of it start to get put back together, it just falls to the floor again to be shattered over and over again. I have come to find out that I think it will always just be this way. I often wonder if one day, my heart will just stop beating from all of this pain.

 

This is all for tonight, little one. I have to get up super early for a 6:45 a.m. flight where your brothers and I will leave your Daddy behind. I hate this so much. I’m so sorry you cannot come with us. I love you. I miss you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, baby doll. xoxo

One of my favorite Washington pictures of you, you spicy little monkey. You were so mad at me for putting your brothers 4 wheeler in 1st gear, to go slower rather than 2nd gear, to go faster. You knew the difference at only 2 years old. Your little foot could hardly reach the gas as this was meant to be driven by 5 year olds, not a Baby Danger 2 year old. You drove this thing, all summer long. I miss you so much.