Hello darkness, my old friend.


Ronan,

It’s storming in Arizona tonight. The wind is howling, the rain is being finicky, but the lightning and thunder are playing a game of tag. Storms were our favorite. You used to love for me to take you outside so we could dance in the rain together. Tonight, Poppy was sleeping during the storm. I woke her up and carried her to the window while I nuzzled into the side of her neck. She smelled of wet hair and dewy flowers. I breathed her in before I set her down. “Take me outside, Mom.” She doesn’t call me “Mama” anymore, only Mom. I miss the days of mama so much. I grabbed her little hand and took her outside while we watched the storm for a few minutes. She thanked me for waking her up and then asked to go back to sleep so she could get back to the “best dream ever,” she was having. I tucked her into bed and she fell back asleep, where she is hopefully dreaming of puppies and alpacas; two of her favorite things.

Tomorrow is Nana’s birthday, and I am so sad that we aren’t with her. She is the best Nana. She is the best mom. I think a lot about that first month after you died and summer was approaching. We always split our summers between Coronado, California and Washington to be with my family. That summer after you died, we didn’t go back to Washington, instead we stayed in Coronado. I remember why and it made perfect sense at the time but it really didn’t because nothing during that time made any sense. I didn’t want to go back to Washington because I couldn’t bear the thought of looking my mom in the eyes. I didn’t want her to see me, her daughter, so beyond broken. I didn’t want to see my own mother, beyond broken due to the death of you AND the death of me because I was a shell of a human being. I now know that being back home was the only place I should have been. It would have saved me a lot of trauma and a lot of pain inflicted on me by other people. There is a lot to unpack here. A lot of things that I’ve never spoken about but now I’m finally ready to.

Somebody once asked me if I was ever going to stop blogging, and my response was, “I’ll stop blogging when I can no longer speak my truth.” I took a long break from writing on here for a lot of different reasons. I think I’ll come back now. I can write books AND blogs. This feels really, really good. And you know what else feels good? Healing. Honesty. Perspective. Growth. And love. Love has saved my life.

I’ve been writing all day little man, so this is all for tonight. Sweet dreams. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe.

5 thoughts on “Hello darkness, my old friend.”

  1. Thank you , Maya, for your blogging & sharing your thoughts so honestly, even when it’s so horribly hard fir you to write.

  2. I’ve been reading…And reading…And reading. I never seem to get through one of your posts without tears. But sometimes sad ones and sometimes happy ones. I’ve always said that everyone is truly good at something, you just have to find your medium to share it. You have obviously found your medium in writing. Your passion and love and wonder was Ronan. Your medium is writing. My best friend in the world has a son named Ronan. I love him to the moon and back. I held him as a newborn and have watched him grow. I don’t have children but my friend has shared her kids with me and I love them all….to the moon and back.

  3. I’m so glad you are back to writing this blog. Your blog has touched my heart in a way that I can’t find the words to describe. I have been following since the beginning, Thank you.

  4. I don’t know whether you’ll ever read this comment, but Ronan has inspired me a lot. I’ve also written a poem about a friend of mine, Eva, who in the story of the poem, died of Cancer (Yes, Ronan by TS was an inspiration for the poem). I would love to share it with you.

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