Another great event in the Pacific Northwest. It was a huge success last year, please help them make it even better this year!
Ronan. I haven’t cried much while being here at Nana and Papa’s. This distresses me. It makes me scared that this pain is becoming less and less and I don’t want it to be. This pain keeps me connected to you. This pain motivates me. This pain, has become my friend and I don’t want my friend to go away. It makes me think that somehow, I am starting to forget pieces of you and that scares the shit out of me. I don’t want to forget any part of you. I don’t want you to ever become a distant memory of what my life was like, a long time ago when you were here.
I miss so everything about you. I miss kissing your sweet little lips. I miss bathing your little body. I miss dressing you up like the little old British man that you loved to be. I miss tucking you in and having you wake me up in the mornings. I miss hearing you tell me, “You’re so cute!” or “You’re my best friend, mama. I love you so much.” I miss our whispers about life. I can’t believe you just closed your eyes to go to sleep and never wake up again.
I’m still here. Doing all these weird, normal things in life, without you. The teaching your brothers all the things I would have taught you. The giving your Poppy sister the million kisses that you would have given her. The watching of certain people in our lives who are literally just throwing it away, and pissing all over it.
All while I sit back and just stare with my mouth gaping open. I want to scream at the top of my lungs, “What is wrong with you, you ungrateful people of the world?! Don’t you remember that little boy? That beautiful little boy who would give anything to be here to live a life?! Don’t you remember how you watched me watch him die? How you watched death swoop in and steal him away as everyone around fought their hardest to keep him here? How can you be living this way? This selfish way of hurting yourself and the others who love you and have done nothing but try to support you and love you. You are here, you are alive, and Ronan can’t be, but this is how you honor him? By taking for granted the breath that you breathe and the life that you are so LUCKY to live? How hurtful that is to watch. How I feel like my guts are being ripped out from the insides as I silently scream to myself. How dare you take such a precious thing, for granted. Don’t you remember that little boy who you so claimed to love? Well, he is dead and you are alive and this is how you give thanks to being reminded of how precious life really is.”
I will never understand this. I get that everyone has their demons. I get that everyone has their “stuff” but I’m about fed up with the excuses being made to why a life is just here to be wasted.
Ronan, you should be here. I know you would have appreciated every single second and not wasted a minute on a poor fucking me pity party. You fucking had cancer and that never even caused you to have a poor me pity party day. You were always too proud to feel sorry for yourself. You were more man than half of the grown adult men I’ve known in my life at the age of 3. That speaks volumes.
I just bawled my eyes out writing everything above which is what I’ve been needing to do. I always do the most crying when I am writing which is why it’s not good for me to take breaks from this blog for so long. The book writing is different and I don’t seem to cry as often when I am writing it. I’m also just passed your diagnoses and that didn’t really make me cry, it only made me vomit uncontrollably for most of the night. Only on this blog do the snotty, ugly faced, can’t see out of my eyes, tears pour down my cheeks. I’m sure the further I get with this book, the more the tears will come.
I’m feeling a little better now except I’m all of a sudden so tired I can hardly hold my eyes open, but I will continue on.
Back to this life that is here now that I live without you. I’ll tell you the stories of the days filled with your brothers and Poppy. How Liam now runs to my car door before I get into the driver’s seat to open it for me. Just out of the blue, he started doing this and now he does it every time I get in my car. I know your daddy taught him this or explained the rules to him on “How to be a gentleman.” Or maybe Liam just picked it up from always watching your daddy do it for me. It used to annoy the shit out of me. Like I was up on my high horse screaming, “I’m a feminist! I’m independent! I DON’T need my car door opened!” I’m come off that high horse and just let myself appreciate how lucky I am to have a daddy like yours who doesn’t let the little things, get lost.
Quinn has been doing a great job of helping to fill your shoes and take care of me. He always seems to be right by my side, making sure I’m o.k. “How are you feeling, mom. Are you o.k. today, mom? Is there anything else I can help you with, mom?” He may be asking these things while pounding Liam over the head (there has been a lot of fighting lately it seems) but he is still asking.
And then there is your Poppy sister. Everyday she reminds me of you. Her eyes are getting bluer and bluer by the day. I’m holding my breath that they will stay blue. I know in the big world scheme of things, it doesn’t matter, but my gawd that would be nice.
Today was one of those days where I felt so inspired and so giddy by the things I see going on in the world/all the good people out there that it left my head spinning.
I got a Fed Ex package and squealed with delight as Quinn brought it to me. I ripped it open to find something I have been waiting for, very impatiently, for days. Your very own SpirtHood! I burst out into tears as I examined it and watched Quinn put it on his head. I contacted SpirtHoods about a year ago telling them how much you loved yours, asked them if they would donate some to us to hand out for all the sweet bald-headed kids on the cancer floor and that lead to this.
“I was wondering if you would consider making a Spicy Monkey SpirtHood in honor of Ronan with a portion of the proceeds going to his foundation.”
We talked about what it would look like and decided that the inside would be purple for you and there would also be a big fat Gold Ribbon for childhood cancer on the inside as well.
The owner of SpirtHoods, Chase, was on board immediately. I was excited then. I am over the moon exited, now. To actually physically have the sample in my hands today felt so amazing. Like it was actual hard proof that your little short life, is so impactful. I emailed Chase back and told him thank you so much for not only supporting you, Ronan, but for all the awareness this will bring for these kids who so desperately need it. Not to mention, all the bald headed babes they are going to help keep warm in the artic tundra of hospitals. I’m so excited and so proud to be a part of something that I know you would have loved. It may seem like a small feat in the grand scheme of things, Ro, but to me, it means the world.
This is all I can do tonight, little man. I need to blog about so much more!
OMG! Like our GOLD PARTY September 28th that Bret Michaels is throwing with us. I promise more details soon on that!
And OMG! The family pictures we had taken today, minus our family because it was just me, Poppy, and your brothers. It felt so weird, but I got through it as best as I could. I need to brag my life away about the sweet soul who took our pictures, etc….
I promise to do so, soon. I am just too wiped to do so as of now. Have to get some shut-eye.
I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, baby doll.
And I can’t stop smiling and crying because of all the beautiful souls out there who have come my way because of you, Ronan.
This was one of the songs we used to always sing to Ronan. It is so special to our entire family. Holly, you are amazingly talented and DARLING. Thank you for making my night.
Ronan. Fucking, fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m venting on here tonight and I don’t even care. I have been spending all of my nights, writing about this nightmare for this book and going back to re read my blog, which I’ve NEVER done, to reference some things.
This is beyond torture. I knew this was going to be hard, but SHITBALLS! This is beyond sick. I would give anything to be tucking you into bed instead.
So, the little time at night that I sleep, I have been having horrific nightmares. Last night, Poppy had cancer and went from being my healthy, chubby baby girl, to wilting away in my arms as I watched her die. Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?! Can’t I catch a break around here?! I mean, I wake up to a nightmare everyday, which is not having you here, and I can’t even go to sleep without being tortured as well. Where are my puppies, unicorns and rainbows when I need them? Oh, I remember. I stopped subscribing to those a long time ago. Lucky me. Whatever. It is impossible for me to have gone through something like this and just stick my head in the sand and pretend like nothing happened. I’m so sick of hearing from the idiots of the world that now that I have Poppy, I should just move on and leave all of this behind. Well, nobody has ever told this to my face, but as always, I hear the whispers and they are whispers of BULLSHIT from sad souls who are obviously so self absorbed that they think that going through something like this, then having a baby makes everything disappear. That is so very untrue and so very ignorant.
Leave all of this behind?! Are you kidding me? Never. I will never sell my soul to the devil that way. I will never sell out and “move on” from Ronan. Yesterday, I woke up to 7 kids dying of cancer. 7!!!! And that is only in the United States! Where are the riots on the street for that?!? Unbelievable.
I am not going anywhere, ever. I will stay here and continue to fight for you, Ronan and for all of these other kids until the day I die. I am not going “back” to my life of happy. I am a tortured soul and I can live with that. If anybody that is close to me has a problem with that, then please feel free to exit. The whispers are getting beyond fucking annoying.
Ronan. I started that rant a while ago. I think I was in the middle of being consumed by my writing at night and obviously I needed a break. My break came at the perfect timing as my childhood best friend, invited us down to stay with her over the weekend in Hood River, Oregon. It’s taken me a while to be able to say yes to something like this. I know Amy has been wanting to see me for a while now, but it’s honestly taken me this long to get back to that place where I feel I can see people again. Coming to your Nana and Papa’s is wonderful in so many ways, but I do tend to turn into a little of a hermit here. Meaning I don’t go out and do a lot of things. I prefer to stay home and only venture out for little adventures, here and there. Thankfully, they have enough acres and space to make us feel like we are in a different world, off doing a million adventures, without having to leave or drive anywhere to do so. When Amy asked to see us, I hesitated a little bit but ended up telling her we would come to her. We needed a change of scenery and I very much needed a break from my writing. Plus, I really have missed my dear friend.
We headed out on Friday for a weekend full of all thing amazing and beautiful that the Pacific Northwest has to offer this time of year. Mountain biking up some wicked trails, running through sprinklers, blueberry picking, ice cream, watching the boys play and splash on the beach, an amazing hike, all in a 48 hour period. Your brothers had such fun with her boys that they didn’t want to leave. I handled the weekend pretty well and tried not to let the wind get knocked out of me every time Amy’s very spicy 3-year-old, did something naughty. Oh, how he reminded me of you. He even has that same color of copper hair. Seeing your brothers with him and watching them giggle whenever he did something he was not supposed to do, broke my heart over and over again. But I survived the weekend much like the way I survive this life, by being surrounded by really amazing people and letting myself get lost in the smiles from your brothers and cuddles from your sister.
At one point Amy said to me, “You know you can put Poppy down, right?” Apparently I had been walking around pretty much the entire weekend, without setting her down except for when I had to change her diaper, but I hadn’t noticed this. I just looked at Amy and said, “Put her down? I never put her down. I can’t.” Errrrrr… I might be turning into an obsessive psycho maniac over your sister, but we all know there is a good reason behind this. Besides the fact that she is just too adorable to ever stop staring at.
Our weekend was wonderful and I’m back to the grind of trying to juggle 50 things at once. Yesterday, I felt so beat down that I almost cracked. It’s times like these that your Nana can sense it all and looks at me and says, “Give me Poppy and go for a run to blow off some steam.” That’s precisely what I did. It’s going to be hard to leave this place to go back to the realities of Arizona. It is still really hard for me to be there, but I will stick it out until something comes along to take us elsewhere. A change is in the air I think but I’m just not sure what that looks like as of now.
I have some other not so fun things to vent about, but I’m not going to do that now as I have to get back to the hours I need to put in with your book. All will come in due time. I also have some really amazing things to share as well as the sad/beautiful seem to live hand in hand.
I miss you so much, Ronan. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, baby doll.
Ronan. I don’t remember the last time I’ve written to you and I don’t like that. My days are so consumed with trying to be the best mama to your brothers and sister. This means no computer time, only a little time is spent posting the never ending cute little Poppy pics on Instagram as my way of trying to keep up with all of your lovies out there. They seem to be growing by the day and that makes me so proud. My nights have been spent writing and working on this book. My nights have been spent writing accompanied by hot flashes and puking over the toilet again due to living this fucked up “journey” over in my head again and writing it all out to tell our little story. Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for the opportunity, but it’s still very difficult. I got through your diagnoses and I had no idea writing about that again would leave my head spinning in the way that it did. I can’t imagine what writing about your death will be like for me. This is the part where all you lovelies chime in on how brave I am. I don’t feel brave. I just feel like a mama who will do whatever it takes to continue fighting on for her child. Wouldn’t every mama walk to the end of the earth to make sure their child’s legacy lives on? To make sure good things continue to go on, because of their baby? I would like to think so. This is also just me, grabbing on to anything and everything I can, to still get to be your mama and parent you, Ronan. I don’t get to teach you all the things I dreamed of. I don’t get to scold you when you are being naughty… The only way I can get to you, is through these things that I am so desperately trying to do. Sometimes I feel like I’m grasping at thin air, sometimes I get tired and so very sad, but I have never in my life wanted to give up or quit. No matter how frustrated or sad I get because I know at the end of the day, you’re not coming back. And that is all I want more than anything in the world. But all the gratitude and good things will keep me going… I promise you that.
Today is an amazing example of good things that will keep me going. My little hometown showed some major RoLove today. I got asked to lead a 5k run that some girls I know wanted to throw together at our Lake Sacajawea. Of course I said yes and that is pretty much all I did. Everyone else buzzed about, working their butts off to make this “Run Like A Rockstar” 5k run, happened and it ran smoothly. All I did was try to get in a few runs before the big event so I could actually try to make it around the lake without having to be pushed in a wheel barrel. We had such an amazing turn out and I felt like I was floating in a sea of purple the entire day. I ran the lake as fast as I could with an injured knee from my previous running that I have been doing. I ended up walking a bit too but I was fine with that. One of my oldest friends, Laura was sweet enough to stay back with me so I didn’t have to walk alone. She talked about how she was so excited to run this but then pulling up to park and seeing your little face on the poster was just awful. How this was such an awful reason to have to run. I told her I knew. How surreal this all still seems to me. I know I used the word unfair through my tears. How could my baby be just fucking dead? How could my totally healthy, beautiful baby boy be so healthy, and then have fucking stage 4 cancer just like that? Through her tears she told me she was sorry, but how proud she was of all the things we are doing. I am proud, too Ronan. I know we are and will change this world in a very big way but FUCK. What I wouldn’t give to have just one more second with you. What I wouldn’t give to have my old life back. I can’t though. I know this but sometimes I like to close my eyes and just pretend.
I finished the lake and my knee actually felt o.k. My time sucked but today, I had nothing to prove at all. I was just happy to finish without injuring myself even more. You know who kicked ass in the race today, Ronan? Your brothers. I had no idea that I had little runners in our family! Liam has been going on some runs with me at night, but I had no idea he could run 3.6 miles in 30 minutes. Holy smokes I was blown away! Quinn came in just a few minutes after him. Liam ran pretty much the whole lake, by himself. This totally brings tears to my eyes because I know he did this for you, and how proud you are of him. I am so proud of them both not only today, but always. Such amazing little boys they are.
After the race I got a chance to meet some really lovely people who all love you so much. It was an emotional day but so rewarding as well. I am so grateful to everyone who came to support your foundation. Thank you to all of my rad hometown babes who worked so hard to get this all done. I know you are doing these things for the RIGHT reasons and nothing more than that. That is so important to me. Thank you for never forgetting my little guy who continues to inspire you daily. Thank you for keeping his mama going by showing me how much the power of love can move mountains. I am so proud to call you all my friends and I will never forget what you did for us not only today, but always. This is just the beginning. I cannot wait for next year and I am so proud to call this place, home.
Alright little man. I need to get in some hours working on this book. I talked to your Sparkly the other day. I miss him when we are away so much. He knows that I’ve been staying up late, working on this book and I listened to him as he said with urgency in his voice, that I need to get this done so I can “Fuck Cancer.” I know what the urgency meant. It meant that kids are dying, dying, dying and nobody is paying attention. I know he feels the same way that I do, that this book is not only our beautiful, tragic love story, but it is another way to spread awareness as well. I am doing the best I can, working as fast as I can, but I also know this cannot be rushed. All I can do is my best and I want to do this the right way, not the rushed way. I am just proud that I actually started it and I am making progress.
Alright little man. Back to the book. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. G’nite, babydoll.
Ronan. You know what got me through today? That little secret dimple you gave Poppy. The exact same one you had hidden on your little right lower cheek. The one that only came out when you smile or pouted.
The picture below is you at around a year. This was Poppy yesterday. That secret little dimple is such a gift that every time I see it, I get butterflies in my stomach. You are beyond amazing for doing this and this is absolute proof that you played such a huge role in all things Poppy.
Thank you, Ro.
Ronan. Today being 26 months without you, made me want to hide in my bed all day long. Your baby sister woke me up this morning at exactly 3:23 a.m., just minutes before you died, to eat. How does she already know everything at just 12 weeks old? How did she know at that moment, I needed a reminder that even though you are gone, you are still with us at all times? She is already so wise beyond her years.
I wanted to hide in bed all day and do nothing but sleep, sleep, sleep. I didn’t. I played with your brothers, instead. I went for a hike with your Papa Jim, your brothers, Poppy and Jady girl. I decorated some trees with your bracelets like I always do when I am hiking or out and about at places I know you would love to be with us.
I’m sorry I haven’t been writing to you on this blog. It makes me so sad that I have so much going on, that it seems to take away time from my quiet time, writing to you. Days are filled with me making sure your brothers are enjoying their summer as much as possible and bonding with your Poppy sister by making her smile and laugh as much as I can. The quiet time I have to myself which is really late at night after everyone is asleep has been spent working on this book. I have been having a war inside my head with myself about it. I swear I am my own worst enemy. I’m constantly doing the second guessing, the what if it’s not good enough, what if I don’t make him proud. A wise little editors words haunt my head… “Remember, besides having kids, this is going to be the most permanent thing you do in life.” No pressure at all. The hardest part has been figuring out where to start, but I did it. It’s kind of like jumping off of a cliff. Sometimes you just have to close your eyes, follow your heart and take a huge leap of faith. I seem to be finding my words easily and so far, I have not had to go back to reference my blog at all. I’m sure there will come a point when I have to do that, but for now I seem to be doing just fine without having to reread my painful words. I know the inspiration I am finding all comes from you, so thank you once again, little man.
I’m going to keep this short and sweet tonight as I need to get some writing done for a few hours before my eyes fall too heavy to see the computer screen. I hate 26 months without you. I’m so sorry. I miss you so much that it makes me sick. I am doing my best even though I still have days where I just want to close my eyes and go to sleep for a very long time. I can’t do that to you though. We have too many things to get done here.
I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, baby doll.