4 year old things

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Ronan. You are not 4 and you are not here.

I am so aware of the fact that you never got the chance to turn 4 and it haunts me daily. Because of this I often feel as if I live in a world where I am complety consumed with the fact that Poppy is 4. This age of 4 is so precious to me and it hurts on a level that is such a complex mixture of beauty and pain.

You didn’t get to turn 4 but you almost did.

You didn’t get to turn 4 but your baby sister did.

I threw her a 4th birthday party complete with barn yard animals and all. I sang her “Happy Birthday,” helped her blow out her candles and it was impossible not to think of you. I smiled through my tears. I loved on her and held her tightly all through out the day. I cried myself to sleep once her party ended and she was safely tucked away in bed, sound asleep. I woke up the next day with an emotional hang over the size of Donald Trump’s ego, but somehow did the day and did it well just like I manage to do most days now. Not all days, but most.

I am aware every day while walking Poppy in and out of school that I never got to hold your little 4-year-old hand, but I am holding hers. Her hand feels extra sweet to me. Extra delicate like at any moment it could be taken away. The loss of you has made me hyper sensitive to all of her 4-year-old moments. Her 4-year-old lips that I am so lucky to kiss. Her 4-year-old hair that I get to brush. Her 4-year-old laugh that I get to hear. I savor it all, even when she is sooooo sassy that I want to pull my hair out. Every second with her is so precious and I know a lot of that is because I never got to have any of those 4-year-old moments with you.

I wonder if it will always be this way with her or if it’s just this way now because you were so close to turning 4. Either way the loss of you continues to impact me daily even though it has been over six years since your death. Time heals all wounds will always be such bullshit to me. Maybe some wounds aren’t meant to be healed. And that doesn’t make me weak, it makes me stronger than I ever knew I was capable of being.

I’m writing at my favorite book store tonight and a little girl who looks be about 10 just walked by me, gave me a smile and her head was completely bald. I’m having one of those moments where I’m like, “Is this real life or just a dream?” It’s real because I can taste my tears and feel the pinch I just gave my arm. I think I’ll go home now.

G’nite, little man. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe.

xoxo

3 thoughts on “4 year old things”

  1. So happy to see you writing again. Ronan’s story inspired me to study nonprofits in college, and reading your words has made me a better advocate as someone living with a chronic illness. Much love to yyou and your family. 💜

  2. II love Jackson Brown Jr.’s quote, thank you for sharing. And I think it makes perfect sense why you’d be especially aware of sweet Poppy at 4 years old! Hugs to you…xo michelle

  3. Maya, this is beautiful, Poppy turned 4, I can not even imagine how important and meaningful it is to you.

    “Either way the loss of you continues to impact me daily even though it has been over six years since your death. Time heals all wounds will always be such bullshit to me. Maybe some wounds aren’t meant to be healed. And that doesn’t make me weak, it makes me stronger than I ever knew I was capable of being.”

    That’s a lot of what I feel. I understand and I feel every word you’ve written. I lost my mother 5 years ago, It’s been 5 years, and still not a day goes by that I do not miss my mum. I do not believe time is capable of healing everything, I do not believe that miss is softened, no, I do not believe in any of it, for me it does not work. But for me this is not a cause for despair, for me it is totally understandable that I will miss my mother every day, it is understandable that she is my first thought when I wake up (before I even open my eyes), and the last one before bed. I understand and I can accept that my longing will never end, and this wound will always be with me, and I know that some days it will bleed more than others. I know that just like me, you can also understand and accept this, I see and feel it in your words, Maya. From the moment I lost my mother, I knew, I would be an eternal daughter of longing, but okay, no problem, I know that longing is a place that only comes who loved and was loved, I know that we just feel miss what was good, and I know the heart that’s broke is a heart that’s been loved, so it’s okay, I can spend the rest of my life feeling miss for my mother because together with this longing I have all the wonderful memories of the 17 years I’ve had her in my life. I know, 17 years seems to be an eternity compared to almost 4, I know, but I also know that you have wonderful memories, memories of moments that will never be forgotten, but I know that even though death is an event that never ends, there are things that death does not bury because they belong to the eternal life.

    Maya, you’re a woman of flowers and steel, you’ve been brave and strong enough to come here and talk about Ronan to hundreds of people, and that’s what I admire most about you, the courage you’ve had to confront your pain, unlike me that for a long time I could not speak my mother’s name out loud, look at pictures or talk about her. And I’m talking about this because I know you’re one of the few people who really understands me.
    I admire your strength, you are one of the people I most remember during my days. I wish you well, and do not forget: God gave us the gift of feel longing because the longing is a way to eternize life in us. So, the beautiful angel Ronan and my beautiful mother will forever be eternal in our hearts.

    W/ Love: Bruna (from Brazil).

    PS: I’m sorry for my bad english. 🙂

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