Ronan. I had a dream about you this morning. I was up off and on all night last night. 12:30 a.m. awake. 3:25 a.m. awake. 6:23 a.m. my phone rang. It was your Sparkly. I shot right out of bed. My heart sunk. Why is he calling so early? Something must be wrong. False alarm. Everything was o.k. I fell back asleep after that. In my dream, I was with your daddy, I think. You and your brothers were sleeping somewhere else that wasn’t our house. I made your daddy drive over to check on you. We opened up a back door to a house that was unlocked. We crept into a bedroom. I was only concerned about seeing you. In my dream, I didn’t know you were dead. I ran over to the bed where a tiny little boys’ feet stuck out of the covers. I pulled down the blanket off of your face just in time to see your beautiful full head of hair and watch you open your eyes and look at me. I kissed your little cheek and felt so happy, but I didn’t know why. I get to see you all the time, in real life, right? I remember saying to your daddy. “He opened his eyes.” Just as I said this, real life happened and the noise from your brothers, jolted me out of my sleep. Oh, how I would have given anything to have had more time with you in that dream. It took me a minute to remember my dream and that you were not here, for me to kiss. That is always the hardest reality to wake up to. The fact that I only get to see you, in my dreams and not here, in your bed or running around our house is such a cruel, horrible reality.
I got up. Helped make breakfast for everyone. Acted as though everything was o.k. this morning when mornings around here are never o.k. My heart has been heavy for the past few days. Remember that sweet boy, Teddy, that we spent some time with in San Diego this summer? The sweet little Teddy that reminded me so much of you? He has been doing really great, then suddenly out of the blue, his parents find out that his Neuroblastoma is spreading like wildfire. They have been told there are not many more options left. His mom, whom I adore, is faced with the decision to just let Teddy live out the time he has left here, or put his through some really harsh chemo to try to slow this monster down. The same kind of chemo, that left us inpatient at Sloan for 24 days, and did nothing for your disease. My heart is breaking. I don’t understand how this can just keep happening to these kids who are so loved in this world and are so innocent. I feel so helpless for his family. I don’t want them to know this life I live, one without your child. It is just too cruel of a world to live in. Please keep Teddy in your thoughts, prayers or whatever else you do. Ronan. You know what to do little man. I promise I am trying to fix this as best as I can. I just can’t keep up with all these kids dying, one after the other. I wish I had a magic wand and wishes really worked. I wish everything was that simple. You can visit Teddy’s caring bridge, here. I know what his parents have decided to do. I will wait for them to post an update, to tell us all.
Even though it might seem like I’m in a really dark place right now… because I am. I am still managing to somewhat function in this too bright of a world. For instance, yesterday I went to a kids fest, Ro. A kids fest without you in tow. Do you know how achingly hard this was for me to do. A festival full of healthy kiddos, just as the world should be. There was not one bald head in sight. I was asked to do a reading there of the kids book, “The Lorax.” I had so much anxiety about this the night before. I tossed and turned. Dreamed about not being able to get through the book, without you there. I took your daddy and your brothers. Fernanda and her 3 boys met us there, too. I sat in a chair and read this story to about 20 kiddos. I talked to you before hand on the drive out there. I closed my eyes in the car. “Please Ronan. I need you today. Help me get through this. Keep me calm, cool, and collected. Help me do this. Stay with me. I need your help today.” I thought to myself, this can either go two ways. I can lose my shit and not be able to control my emotions as I knew having to look out into a sea of kids, and not see your face was going to be rough… or I can keep it together and stay focused on the people I had there, who I love so much. I looked out into the audience. I saw Fernanda’s face. Her boys. Your daddy. Your brothers. I looked down at my feet to see a random little girl, playing with my sparkly shoes while I was reading. This made me smile. I can do this today. I will do this today. I will do this and be proud of myself for doing something that feels so hard to me. I let myself be proud for the .2 seconds that I allowed. That is all I needed. Your brothers had the best day. They got to run wild and free after my reading and enjoy being the 9 year olds they are. I am always glad to see that. I let that be enough for the day.
I have been busy around here getting ready for our Macy’s arrival. Quinn has probably asked me about 10 times what day Macy will be here and what time. She changes the whole dynamic of our family in such a good way. For the time that Macy is here, it is always a time full of laughter, love, and peacefulness. We seem to always have plenty of tears, too, but somehow the tears feel easier when Macy is around. I am so thankful she is coming in for our second annual Macegiving. I am so grateful for our sweet friend who is a part of our family. I am so thankful that she will be here for us on another one of our hard holidays. They all seem pretty hard, but things are a little less hard when Macy is around.
This is all for tonight, little one. Rita just texted me, “Hello suicidal friend. Wanna go to Ikea with me?” That is some seriously funny shit right there. At least it totally made me laugh out loud. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, Ro baby.
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