Ronan. I forgot to write about 23 months without you. I was in the hospital with your sister Poppy. It was the day after I had her. I told your Mr. Sparkly Eyes how I thought that you and your sister had planned for me to go into labor on the 8th so that when the 9th came around, I wouldn’t be so sad because I would be holding your baby sister safe and sound in my arms. I do think this is true. It was the first time the 9th wasn’t completely gut-wrenching for me. How could it be with your sweet sister snuggled up to me? She helped me get through the day.
You know what comes next, though. Next month. Two years without you, and I’m sitting here scratching my head, saying how can that be? How can it already be two years since you left this earth? It doesn’t seem possible. And guess what else this year brings? Your birthday falls on Mother’s Day. How am I supposed to get through that one? Mother’s Day is hard enough now, but the fact that it falls on what should have been your 6th birthday is beyond anything I feel capable of handling. I am trying not to panic about it all, but I said to your daddy tonight, “We need to come up with a last-minute May plan, because I can’t be here.” He promised me he would, so I am trying to relax a bit about it, but it has still been keeping me awake at night. I hate the month of May.
May—
Your death day
Your birthday, which also happens to be the day you were cremated
Mother’s Day without you
Your funeral day
I won’t ever love the month of May again.
I will get through it the best I can, just like I did last year. It’s all I can do to survive it.
Everything around here is really calm and peaceful. I feel calmer and more peaceful than I have in a very long time. It’s because of Poppy. She makes me be still and quiet in a way that is not forced, in a way I haven’t been able to be since you died. She has given me such a gift already, and she is only a week old. It’s amazing the way she seems to be working her little magic on all of us. I have been doing nothing but spending my days with her, being quiet and still.
Having your sister Poppy has saved me. I know that’s a bold statement, but I can say without a doubt that she has saved my life.
We talk about you a lot. All day long when I am rocking her in your bedroom and she is looking all around. I tell her stories about you. I tell her how much you love her and are watching over her. I tell her how lucky she is to have you as a big brother, and Liam and Quinn as well. Having her in your room was a good decision on our part. Your room no longer seems so sad, empty, and cold.
I was rocking her yesterday and your daddy came in to check on us. He asked if it was hard for me to be in there with her. I nodded that it was, because it is. But there is something comforting about it, too.
We still haven’t seen too many people, as we are just trying to take our time and get used to this new little life. Quinn made a comment about how weird it felt to have another person living in our house again. To me, that just screamed how much your little life is missed by us all. How much your absence is always felt.
I still get mad a lot, but I find that I am not as reactive with my anger. I find myself sitting and trying to process all of this on a deeper level, but I mostly just sit in disbelief that this world has to be without you. I know how dull and empty this world is without your presence. That makes me mad and sad, and I want to scream from the rooftops how unfair this all is, because I know you would have grown up to do such amazing things in this world. I wonder why the whole wide world doesn’t feel this way, too. About you and all of these other kids who are dying left and right from childhood cancer.
I am so thankful for the people who are paying attention and fighting the good fight, but I don’t understand why the whole world isn’t in an uproar over this. I guess if it doesn’t touch your life personally, it’s easier to look the other way and go about your business. That makes me sad.
Nobody deserves to get cancer, especially not children. And if they do get cancer, there should be better treatments and options. You deserved better, Ronan, and I will forever be so sorry that after everything we tried and did for you, death was still the final outcome. I will never stop apologizing for that.
I’ve been spending most of my days in your room. Your daddy hung a big, beautiful picture of you over your bed last night. I swear I stare at it all day long. Sometimes it makes me cry. Sometimes it makes me smile. It always makes me miss you with everything that I am. That will never change.
Alright, little man. That’s all for now. Not much has been going on, so I don’t have a ton to write about. Please keep your sister Poppy safe. I worry about her so much already.
I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe.
xoxo
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