Ronan. We are home now and it has been alright. I have been doing what I do best, which is kind of keeping to myself. Sometimes, I ignore the phone calls and texts… not because I feel like being mean or hurtful, but because sometimes I just need to be alone. I have been busy also trying to get us unpacked and everything situated for leaving your daddy and brothers for a few days. I’m leaving for San Francisco tomorrow to go to Teddy’s celebration of life. I know people are worried about me going to this. Your Mr. Sparkly Eyes straight up told me he thought this was the worst idea ever and he did not think I should go. It’s not very often that I don’t listen to his advice… I’m going despite what he has said. I know Macy is worried, too. Fernanda sent me a text message saying she would be thinking about me and knows how difficult this is going to be. I just replied that it couldn’t be as difficult as sitting through your fucking fuckwad funeral/celebration of life/bullshit because you shouldn’t have died. I got through that fine mostly because I was in shock and medicated on god knows what. This time there will be no shock or medication. I will get through this with only the help of you and your little friend, Teddy boy. I don’t know why, but I almost feel like I have to do this because I have something to prove to myself. If this is the world I am going to live in, there will be no shortage of deaths and funerals. I have to be strong enough to go through every part of this, even the worst parts and Teddy was special to me. I’ll never forget the way he let me hold his little hand as we crossed the street on that very cold San Diego day. His little hands reminded me so much of yours and that little bald head of his made me melt. I also want to go for Teddy’s mom. I know a lot of what she is feeling now and I just want to go and wrap my arms around her. I want to show her that one can survive this and maybe give her the little bit of strength that I have. She sometimes picks my brain about all of this via text. I don’t sugar coat anything for her. That’s never been my thing. I wish I had more inspiring words to give her, but I don’t. And I am not about to pretend that this gets any easier because it fucking doesn’t. The least I can do is go and honor her little boy that I was so blessed to know for the short amount of time that I did. I will go and cry my tears for us all because it is a part of this process and this life I live now. I am not half assing any of this because it gets too sad or too scary. I choose to remain true to this entire process.
Today, I spent the entire day with your brothers. We went to breakfast and had a few appointments. We all 3 had dentist appointments. I have not been back to our dentist, the one who was the nonΒ smoker and just died from mother fucking lung cancer, since you were sick. I walked into that office and had so much anticipation. I always wonder who is going to ignore the fact that you died, or who is going to acknowledge it. Our dental hygienist, the one who used to always clean your teeth, was sitting at the front desk. As soon as we walked in, she gave us a big hello. The next thing out of her mouth was how sorry she was and she didn’t stop there… she said some other things, asked how we were doing, etc… I felt myself exhale. Thank god. There is nothing more that I hate in this life now, then the people who knew you, know our story, but choose not to fucking acknowledge it. I teared up a little, and told her thank you for asking about you and us. It truly does mean the world to me. I hate when I go out into this world, run into an old friend/acquaintance and they look at me with their fake plastic smiles and do the whole, “Hi!!! So good to see you! How are you?!?!” And then they go on like you did not even exist. I mostly want to punch these people, but instead I just give them my look of you have got to be kidding me, a fake smile back, and walk away. Is that rude? Probably. But at this point in my life, I don’t really care. I don’t have time to waste on people who are not in our lives for a reason.
We all sat and took turns having our teeth cleaned. You were talked about a lot. As I was sitting in the chair having my teeth cleaned, your brothers were sitting on the floor in front of me. Our hygienistΒ girl goes, “They are so quiet and well-behaved. It sure is different without Ronan here, running up and down the halls.” It’s so different Ronan that at times it feels spooky. Like the life has been sucked out of the entire room. Of course I appreciated your brothers and how well-behaved they were being, but I so missed you being there with us, causing trouble. I know we all did. Everyone loved your little rebel ways, but nobody more than me.
There has been a lot of Poppy talk going on. We are going to get started on her room soon. Your daddy brought it up at lunch the other day. We have to start construction to add another room on to our house because I am not giving her your room. I just sat there, looking at him and started bawling. I wanted to cover my ears and hide under the table. I am so excited about your sister but some days, it just becomes too much. Your daddy quickly got up from across the booth and came over to sit with me and wrap his arms around me. He said something like he was sorry and how this never gets any easier. I let him hold me in the middle of the restaurant and could have cared less at the eyes watching the scene play out before them as the people continued to walk past us. I’m sure they thought things like, “Oh… a lovers quarrel.” Not, “Oh… they must be crying over their child who died of cancer.” Because things like that just don’t happen, right Ro? Kids get cancer and die?!?! That cannot be true. If it were, there is no way our government and society would let this happen and quietly sweep it under the rug like they seem to do. That dirty little secret of childhood cancer just does not exist. Fucking bollox.
Alright little man. I have to go and pack for tomorrow. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams.
xoxo
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