Dear Mr. Andrew Fuckwad Becker of the American Cancer Society

Yes, I called you Fuckwad. You have really, really pissed a lot of people off. I would really hate to be you right now. Actually, you know what? I’ve changed my mind. I would trade places with you, in an instant. Do you know why? Because when I was trying to find a picture of your pathetic face tonight, to print out and attach to my punching bag, I read that you have 3 children. 3 healthy children. I too, had 3 children. 3 boys to be exact. Now I have just 2 boys, among the living. I had to have my 3-year-old son, Ronan, cremated, just 8 months ago because he died from childhood cancer. It sucks to be you because of the ignorance you have chosen to display and the backlash you are going to receive. But it really, really sucks to be me because I have a child who is dead. So therefore, I would trade places with you in an instant. I would rather have my head on a platter, with 3 healthy kids, whom you get to tuck in at night, then to have to be the parent of one who has died from this “rare,” disease called childhood cancer.

Have you even given any thought to all the kids who suffer and die from childhood cancer? This rare disease of childhood cancer which is actually in fact the NUMBER 1 CAUSE OF DEATH BY DISEASE FOR CHILDREN! I really doubt it because I’m sure you are too busy hiding behind your big, fancy desk in your big, fancy suit. I have given a lot of thought to all the kids who are suffering or who have suffered from childhood cancer. One in particular, my Ronan. My Ronan who was the love of my life. Who was the most beautiful little boy who ever existed and I’m not just saying this because I’m his mom. Anybody who knows of Ronan and our story, will tell you this. A lot of people know about Ronan because he was that amazing. Did I forget to mention that I too, have a blog? I do, all because of Ronan. As of now, I have 2,264,051 million hits on this little blog of mine. They all know about Ronan, and now, they are all going to know about you too. I am going to post your words below, just so my little blog readers can get an idea of exactly what you have written. I’ll let them decide for themselves, if you are indeed the fuckwad that I have called you out as being tonight.

Bald Barbie Demand is an Over-Reach

We apologize if the below post offended some of our readers. We realize that in our zeal to highlight an issue that deserves debate, we may have sounded insensitive. This post was written to provoke debate about the proliferation of products marketed to raise awareness, and we think asked legitimate questions. We believe discussions like this can help focus all our efforts more closely on our shared goal of defeating cancer.

You may have seen in the news that a Facebook campaign is underway to pressure Mattel, the maker of Barbie Dolls, to manufacture a bald Barbie. Cancer is one of, but not the sole reason for this campaign. The group’s Facebook page notes,

“We would like to see a Beautiful and Bald Barbie made to help young girls who suffer from hair loss due to cancer treatments, Alopecia or Trichotillomania. Also, for young girls who are having trouble coping with their mother’s hair loss from chemo.”

To the extent that this effort is about fighting cancer, we should ask ourselves what it accomplishes, who would benefit, and while we’re at it, how about asking if a bald Barbie could in fact do more harm than good for kids and parents, not to mention Mattel.

In a world already littered with cancer totems such as rubber bracelets and pink everything (a limited number of which are from ACS initiatives) , do we need one more thing whose function is to “raise awareness” about cancer? Is raising awareness worthwhile? Over at Mary Tyler Mom, who herself is the mother of a child who died from cancer, the answer is a resounding “no.” She makes the excellent suggestion that a donation of $10-$20 to support cancer research would make far more of an impact than buying a doll.

We know that funding more research is key, and every dollar helps, but who would benefit from sales of these dolls? Would it really be about fundraising?

The downside to raising awareness has been well documented by activists in the breast cancer arena. Awareness of breast cancer, for example, has been so thoroughly achieved, and many women are so afraid of the words breast cancer, that about one in 20 who are diagnosed with LCIS, a condition that may lead to breast cancer, are choosing bilateral mastectomy; the surgical removal of both breasts.

This isn’t to say that awareness doesn’t have an important role in defeating cancer. It can be incredibly important when it comes to informing people about ways to reduce risk or about getting recommended screenings regularly. But there may be better ways to attack childhood cancer. Just like radiation and chemotherapy, awareness must be deployed thoughtfully and carefully.

Childhood cancer is exceedingly rare. I would also argue that cancer is rare among the age group of women likely to have daughters young enough to play with Barbies. Women have about a one in 50 chance of developing any kind of cancer before the age of 40 . Which brings me to the claim that bald Barbies can help improve the self-image of little girls who are faced with having lost their hair, or seeing their mothers lose their hair. If they are mass marketed, many of these dolls will end up in the hands of girls who luckily aren’t likely to be touched by cancer in themselves or their mothers. But could they end up being terrorized by the prospect of it in a far outsized proportion to their realistic chances? There is no reason to create this sort of fear. It’s why we don’t see advocates calling for lightning strike dolls.

My final concern is the no-win position Mattel finds itself in. Last year the company went above and beyond, and made one bald Barbie for a four-year-old who was going through chemotherapy. Now the company risks a severe backlash of ill will if it does not accede to the demands of the social media mob. After all, what is more sympathetic than a little girl with cancer? How could this corporation be so unfeeling as to not make the major investment required to put a new product on store shelves? What happens when the next group demands a custom Barbie to represent its social concerns?

Sadly, some 1340 children under age 14 are projected to die from cancer this year. Each one is a tragedy, and they and their families deserve sympathy and support, but it is critically important to pull back from this exercise in consumer bullying and ask whether the need this movement is rising to meet is as big as imagined, and whether it will result in any meaningful support reaching those who need it.

You totally fucked yourself from the get go when you used the word, “pressure,” in regards to the Facebook campaign to get Mattel on board to make a bald Barbie. Couldn’t you have chosen a nicer word? Who the hell pissed in your cereal this morning to get it off to such a bad start? Nobody is pressuring Mattel to do anything. Some women, came up with a beautiful idea and simply put it on the table. It was such a beautiful idea, that a lot of people have decided to get behind this idea in regards to trying to make it happen. That’s how you get shit done, you presumptions asshole. It’s called passion. It’s called a vision. It’s called a dream. Things that you obviously have no idea about. Things that my Ronan and so many other kids out there will never get to feel because they are being murdered by childhood cancer. MURDERED you Fuckwad!!!!!! Chew on that for a while. Try to swallow that pill without choking on it. And it’s all due to the lack of funding that childhood cancer gets. Because its too sad of a story, because bad things don’t happen to good people, and because their are too many people looking the other way. This is all such bullshit. These kids are our future. We as adults should be screaming the loudest and the hardest for them. They should be the one’s getting the MOST funding out there. I would have traded my life, in a second for Ronan’s but he never even stood a chance and I’m blaming this on our greedy, self absorbed society. Share the fucking wealth. Give these children a voice and a chance! None of them deserve any of this. It’s time to stop looking the other way. I now know this, the hard way. I now know this because I am living proof of what childhood cancer can do to the sweetest most innocent child. I will have to live with this for the rest of my life. I vow to fix this epidemic in this society. So someday, another Ronan won’t have to die. What do you plan to do about this Mr. Andrew Fuckwad Becker? Besides be blinded by your ignorance? I really hope you choose to wake up and be part of this change. I really hope you take this opportunity to take this wrong and turn it into a right. I really hope you change your insensitive ways. I really hope you prove me wrong and make me eat my words to you.

With your pea sized brain, Mr. Asshole Fuckwad Becker, you asked 3 little questions. The first being, “What would having this Barbie made, accomplish?” Look dude, I’m no rocket scientist, but are you even serious with this question? My 8-year-old could this answer question, in his sleep. A better question my be, what WOULDN’T this accomplish? It could accomplish SO MANY THINGS. It could bring the awareness to childhood cancer that it deserves so that one day, maybe a parent will not have to watch helplessly as their child dies. Awareness=Funding and Funding= CURES. The survival rate of breast cancer is proof of that. Even if the making of this Barbie, only accomplished something so small, which is actually huge in my eyes, such as making one child smile…… well that is good enough for me.

Your second question is actually a good one because so many people are so unaware of where the money goes in which they are so generously donating. So, where would all the money go? I have no idea and I don’t care as long as it goes 100% to the research that is actually going to make a difference. As long as it may actually save the life of a child. I selfishly want it all to go to Neuroblastoma, which is what my Ronan died from. It is actually one of the least funded pediatric cancers, but in my mind it should be the one funded most. Obviously I am biased because of my Ronan, but if you had been his parent, you would understand. I have a question for you, Mr. Asshole Fuckwad Becker. Where does all the money go that the American Cancer Society raises? To CEO whom I’m hearing, makes about a million dollars in compensation per year. I know where it doesn’t go. To helping fund and support pediatric cancers. This makes me really sad. I have friends who worked really hard to raise money for the Relay for Life this past year. I will NEVER in my LIFE, support this organization unless some serious changes are made such as supporting childhood cancer. I am not going to support an organization that uses the money to pay overhead, salaries, fringe benefits and FUCKING TRAVEL EXPENSES. I will NEVER support a organization like yours again, Mr. Andrew Fuckwad Becker. I hope my lovely little blog readers will choose to follow my lead on this one. They are pretty amazing and I also know they are pretty pissed so I am not worried about them. I know they are able to sleep at night due to knowing that they are going to help be the change in childhood cancer that we so need. It takes an army, you know. And I have a really, really great army behind me. You, on the other hand may need a long, exotic vacation somewhere in order to sleep again. Please be sure to have an extra margarita, on me. But I won’t be paying for it out of my son’s foundation. I’ll be using that money, to actually make a big dent in this neuroblastoma world. Because due to my son dying, I get to make the world a better place. Lucky, aren’t I???

Your 3rd question is just as stupid as your first. Pull your head out of your asshole, and think about this. I’m pretty sure by now, you can come up with the reasons why the making of this doll, would not harm anyone as long as the proceeds go to the right places. I never knew making a child smile, could hurt someone. Childhood cancer has been ignored for long enough, which is why children are still dying from it. If you are too ignorant to answer this question tonight, Mr. Asshole Fuckwad Becker, I’ll make it easy for you. Ask yourself this. WHAT IF IT WAS YOUR CHILD???????? Awwwwww!!! Did a lightbulb just go off in your head? Did a tear just slide down your cheek?! I doubt it. Because you don’t have a child with cancer and you never will. But guess what? I hate to be the bearer of bad news but it can happen to you. It can happen to anyone!!!! I wouldn’t wish this on anyone or any child. But FUCK. If something like this does ever happen to you or anyone that you know, you are going to feel like the worlds biggest prick; and rightfully so. I hope you know by your little post today, we can all read between the lines. What you are actually saying is, “DON’T RAISE AWARENESS! KEEP KILLING OUR KIDS!” Way to go, Mr. Fuckwad Andrew Becker. I hope you feel like a winner tonight.

Alright Mr. Asshole Fuckwad Becker- I’m going to end this post tonight. Trust me, I could go on and on and on about your dumbass post but I’ve grown tired of you. I’m going to let my lovely little blog readers, handle the rest for me. I’m sure your inbox is being bombarded with emails at this very moment. You’ve now taken my night, and hijacked the writing I get to do to my dead son, due to this “rare disease.” For that alone, you can go and fuck yourself. And no sweet dreams for you. Only for Ro. Always for Ro.

Sincerly in the nicest way possible,

Maya M. Thompson

Ronan’s mama

TO ALL MY LOVELIES,

Here is some more information about our dear new friend, Mr. Asshole Fuckwad Becker. Feel free to let him know your opinions, whatever they may be. I’m sure he’d love to hear from you.

Andrew Becker is Director of Media Relations. He is the New York-based member of the national media relations team. His work includes all patient and family services offered by ACS, as well as global health, corporate finance, and supporting the overall brand. Before joining ACS, Andrew spent a decade using his political communication and public relations training for good instead of evil. He was involved in the first few years of the American Legacy Foundation’s truth campaign, as well as other tobacco prevention work, and counts projects for NIH and the Ad Council among his proudest professional achievements. Andrew is a father of three, so he expects to be working for decades to come. E-mail him at andrew.becker@cancer.org.

Because Kids get Cancer, too.

 

Ronan. September 1st. Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. How many people out there, are aware? Not enough. Or if they are aware, they are choosing to ignore it. Assholes. If everyone was AWARE and not IGNORING it, you may still be here. I truly believe that. Was I that unaware Asshole? Totally. Do I wish I still were? If it meant having you here? Absolutely. I would give anything to have you back. You know this. I would sell my soul do the Devil in a heartbeat. It would be so much better than being trapped here, without you. But someone else had other ideas. I don’t like it, but I have to start to accept it; a bit more and more, everyday.

Otherwise, I am going to turn into that bitter mama who is mad at the world. Who has EVERY right to be mad at the world and to turn her back on everything. I don’t want to end up this way, but sometimes it seems like it would be so much easier than to continue on this fight. I know I don’t have a choice, Ro. I know I have to make a difference even when people tell me that I DON’T have a responsibility to anyone but myself, your brothers and your daddy. I know this is not true. I know I still have a responsibility to you. I have to make a difference because this is what you would have wanted. I know you want me to find a bigger purpose in this world than just worrying about if my ass looks big in my LuLu Lemon gym shorts and what to cook for fucking dinner. I know you want me to leave your mark, everywhere. I have no choice but to honor you in the biggest way I can. That means that I will fight this fight until people start to listen. Until huge companies, start to honor Childhood Cancer, the way they do Breast Cancer. Until people stop turning their cheeks because it can’t happen to them. Fuck you. It can. I hope it NEVER does. But I hope if it does, you never have to walk in my shoes because I am going blaze the trails so that Childhood Cancer does start to get the attention and funding that it deserves. So that one day, there WILL be a CURE. So beautiful families, don’t have to watch helplessly as their child dies even after they have done all they can do. The best they could have done. The best will never be enough, because you still died, Ro. I will always feel the guilt of this inside of me. I will never understand why my love was not enough to save you. It should have been. But it wasn’t because Childhood Cancer is that ugly. That real. That scary, that it can change everything in the blink of an eye. But don’t worry. If you choose to ignore it, it cannot happen to you. Bullshit. I am like a flashing, neon sign now people. If you cannot stand to hear this story, because it is too sad, than stop reading, because you are NOT worthy of knowing this beautiful love story. You are not worthy of watching the beauty that is going to come out of losing the most beautiful boy in the world. If you are strong enough to be here, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I love each and every one of you. I need your help, more than ever. You are all going to help in this fight for Ronan and thousands of other children, who deserve a voice. I feel so blessed that Ronan has touched your lives, even if many of you did not know him. If you are not going to be the loudest cheerleader for me, Ro, or thousands of other precious kids who are going through this…. just knowing that you feel like I have made you love your babies, your family, friends, appreciate the little things more…. still means so much to me. Just knowing that it is because of my Ro, that you feel this way… makes me feel like I am capable of making this world a better place.

I know I have a big job ahead of me, but I feel as if my head is becoming a little clearer, more and more everyday. I feel like the fog is being lifted. I’ve stopped all of my medications. All of them. Even the sleepy meds. Cold Turkey, YO! Just because everyone told me I couldn’t do it, and I shouldn’t do it. Well, I did. I am finally starting to feel free again. I am taking Melatonin to help me sleep. I should have listened to my Mr. Sparkly Eyes at the beginning of all of this as he was always suggesting it. Of course, I had to learn the hard way. Thank GOD for Stacy and for bringing that bottle over to my house the other night. Don’t get me wrong…. my sleep is still not wonderful. I still toss and turn. I still wake up, screaming and crying for you. I am still having very vivid, and mostly awful dreams. But it’s not any worse than it was while I was on my prescription sleeping pills. And at least this Melatonin, is a natural substance. I am a fighter and I will fight though this. I refuse to become one of those moms who ends up going through something awful and becoming addicted to prescription meds. No judgement at all. I just know that is not for me. It is not the way I want to live this life. I want to feel, as painful as it may be. I don’t want to be numb.

I’m in the best place I can be, as of now. It’s not good and I know this. I know I am being hard on myself which is why I’ve named this phase of grief, the Phase of Torture. I am doing a lot of things that are not good for me. Not eating, pushing myself on my Inferno Hikes, throwing up a lot if I do eat, second guessing everything we did for you, mentally beating myself up…… But I am here, I am getting up out of bed, I am being a good mom to your brothers, I am being honest, I am going to a lot of therapy, I am feeling. I AM FEELING. I have not felt for a very long time. I was numb and in shock. I still have those feelings some days, but they are less and less.

Ro. I fell asleep about an hour or so ago, but now I am up again due to my dreams. I hate them. They never involve you, and they are always so scary, sad, and mean. Kind of like my everyday life without you now. Where are you and who is taking care of you? Who is brushing your teeth, rubbing your little back, and singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to you? It’s not me. I hate this.

I’ve written to you for days now. Not being able to finish. I have too much to say, too little to say, too many scary things going through my mind, that I don’t want to say. I’m feeling tired, sad, and angry. I’m trying to do my best, to stay positive. Walking through this life without you by my side is utter torture. You spent 4 years attached to my hip. Trying to go on with you gone now, hurts so much. And some days, I just don’t want to do it anymore. I just want to be with you again. I’ll never understand, why it had to be you…. why did you have to be the one to be taken away. Who would be so cruel to do such a thing? I don’t want this life lesson. I don’t want to be grateful for all the little things because I don’t have you anymore. I just want you back. I think I may have to throw up now. We are all here, tucked away in our quiet house for the night. You are not with us anymore and everything about our lives is so different, in the most awful way. I wish I really had an arm missing, or half of my face…. anything but you.

This weekend has been a blur. Lots of family time. We had Kenny, Stacy and the kids over last night. Always good to be with them as they are like family and they just get it. They know how much we need them and they have been such amazing friends to us. I was in a foul mood, talking trash to your Daddy….. being a tough ass. I had a good talk with Stacy, who tried to reason with me a bit. There was no reasoning last night and I usually listen to her. I told her how I didn’t understand how I was just expected to go on and just go about normal things now. Like how could I possibly go on a trip with your Daddy in a few weeks? A trip. Are you fucking kidding me? This is a trip we’ve taken together for years now… and I am supposed to go in a few weeks. Is everyone on crack? This is NOT a normal year. Normal things do not exist yet. Will they ever again? No. But I need some time. I cannot just be thrown back into this life, and be expected to do things that I have done before, in the past, when you were among the living. You just left this earth. I am still here, and trying to figure out how to navigate my way through the fucking grocery store. How am I supposed to hop on a flight to Vegas in a few weeks??? It seems like a sick joke to me. I tried to go to the race tracks in Del Mar over the summer and almost had to be hauled off to the loony bin because I could not handle all the obnoxious people, smoking everywhere, in their stupid hats and clothes. And going to Vegas, during a normal year has never really been my cup of tea. I can stand that place for about 24 hours, on a good day. Can you imagine how I would freak out, going there this year…. it gives me anxiety just thinking about it. If I go, I’m going to wear a shirt that says something like, “My son just died, but let’s gamble anyway.” WTF people?!?! I just want to be left alone. I just want my time to grieve for you. I don’t want to go to Vegas, I don’t want Thanksgiving, I don’t want the weekends anymore, I don’t want to pretend like this is getting easier….. because it is not. Why is everyone acting like just because it’s been almost 4 months, that I need to be moving on, and starting to feel better. I WILL NEVER FEEL BETTER. That I can guarantee you. Do you know what a good day for me is like now? Let me just tell you. A good day now, is a day when my throat does not feel like it is going to close up and I am going to just suffocate to death. A good day is when I can actually swallow, without it hurting. A good day is when I can actually eat a meal, and keep it down. A good day is when I can put on a happy face, and check off some of the things on my shit list. I’ve come up with a new saying that I have adapted. Fake it till you make it. Yup. I’m faking it everyday that I am up out of bed and being productive because I don’t want to be at all. I don’t want any of this life without you.

Did you know Ro, that my mind is so distraught from losing you, that I cannot remember any happy memories of you? My mind cannot even go there. The PTSD is real and it is part of what I am going through now. I’ve talked to all of my therapists about it. They all agree.

 

PTSD can cause many symptoms. These symptoms can be grouped into three categories:

1. Re-experiencing symptoms:

  • Flashbacks—reliving the trauma over and over, including physical symptoms like a racing heart or sweating
  • Bad dreams
  • Frightening thoughts.

Re-experiencing symptoms may cause problems in a person’s everyday routine. They can start from the person’s own thoughts and feelings. Words, objects, or situations that are reminders of the event can also trigger re-experiencing.

2. Avoidance symptoms:

  • Staying away from places, events, or objects that are reminders of the experience
  • Feeling emotionally numb
  • Feeling strong guilt, depression, or worry
  • Losing interest in activities that were enjoyable in the past

Things that remind a person of the traumatic event can trigger avoidance symptoms. These symptoms may cause a person to change his or her personal routine. For example, after a bad car accident, a person who usually drives may avoid driving or riding in a car.

3. Hyperarousal symptoms:

  • Being easily startled
  • Feeling tense or “on edge”
  • Having difficulty sleeping, and/or having angry outbursts.

Hyperarousal symptoms are usually constant, instead of being triggered by things that remind one of the traumatic event. They can make the person feel stressed and angry. These symptoms may make it hard to do daily tasks, such as sleeping, eating, or concentrating.

It’s natural to have some of these symptoms after a dangerous event. Sometimes people have very serious symptoms that go away after a few weeks. This is called acute stress disorder, or ASD. When the symptoms last more than a few weeks and become an ongoing problem, they might be PTSD. Some people with PTSD don’t show any symptoms for weeks or months.

I relive what I went through with you, over and over through the day. I don’t have any other memories of you as of now, besides you being sick, you dying, and the love we had for each other. I am trying to work past this but as of now, I’m stuck. Maybe that’s why I cannot dream about you. I’m stuck in such an awful place in my mind, trapped in between awful memories, and my reality, which is Hell on Earth.

I went Inferno Hiking at 1:00 today. Nobody else was on the mountain. It was nice but I hardly remember any of it. I have decided that the reason I love it so much is because it is so painful. So hot that my socks burn the bottom of my heels. It is dangerous and it is the only time during my days that I have to let go of the memory of you not being here. When I am on my run, down the mountain, I have to stay so sharp, so focused on what I am doing…. because one wrong step and it is goodbye Maya, hello broken arm and face plant into the sharp, burning rocks. Bring it on.

I know you know about my intuition that I have had my entire life, Ro. But here is just another example. As I was driving home from The Inferno today, I started thinking about the neighbors that we brought flowers to, on your Random Day of Kindness. I was getting close to their house and I was beating myself up, because when we met them, they told us about their baby girl that they had lost. Their sweet baby girl, whom never even made it out of the hospital. I knew that she passed away sometime in August and I started getting really mad at myself because I could not remember the date, and I had really wanted to put a card in their mailbox, just to let them know I was thinking about them. It’s September now, so I knew that the time had passed and I was so disappointed at myself for forgetting. As soon as I got home, I parked the car and went to get the mail. I pulled it out, I saw a letter addressed to me, from our neighbors. That is weird, I thought to myself, as I had just spent the past 4 minutes, thinking obsessively about them and their baby girl. I ripped open the letter and it was from the wife. She had taken the time to write me a beautiful letter, more about who they are, who their kids are, and how the daughter that they lost, would have been 22 this year. I started to sob. It was such an honest, beautiful, and kind letter. She wrote to me about how she had read my blog before meeting me, and that I had seemed so strong from my words. But then when she saw me, face to face, that I seemed so fragile. She gets it. She knows why I look that way. It’s because she is a mother, who has lost her little girl. It’s almost like a secret handshake that we have. She can easily see the pain in my eyes, when others cannot. Getting that letter today, reminded me that for as fragile as I am…. I still cannot give up on this life. That I cannot give up on myself. I am on to something with the way I have some of these things in life figured out. I need to listen to my instincts a little more and trust in myself that the path that I am on, is going to lead me to where I was meant to go. As much as I want to fight this stupid life now… I have too much to go on for. You are still my number one reason for living. You are keeping me alive, Ronan. You will take me when you are ready and I just need to trust and believe in that. It is the only thing I trust and believe in anymore.

I’m going to go baby. This has turned into a novel. I hope it even makes sense. I love you so much. To the moon and back, forever and ever. Sweet dreams little one. I hope you are safe.

xoxo

This made me laugh. I will take a laugh wherever I can get it:)

 

The beautiful stranger, life, death, and life again

Ronan. 2 steps forward, 3 steps back. Is that how this is going to work? That’s how I feel today. I had one of those days, where I feel as I can’t breathe without you. It started off the way it always does. “Good Morning, boys! Time to wake up. I’ve started your shower.” (insert happy face here)

Shower, teeth brushed, breakfast made, ….. wait. Where’s Ronan? I need to make his eggies. Oh. Ronan is not here….. but continue on anyway. Lunches packed, water bottles filled, dishes done, lights off, boys in car… off to school. Where are you? Because once again, you are not here. I always know this, but some days it smacks me in the face, harder than others.

Autopilot continues on. Boys dropped off, but I knew this morning, that I could not go home to an empty house. I took all of my “busy,” work and my computer to Starbucks so I could sit and get some things done. Coffee, couch alone, laptop out, headphones on, music blaring, and I did my best to ignore all the happy people walking around like sunshine was coming out of their asses. WTF you jerks. Don’t you know that my son just died of cancer? Why is everyone so happy and bliss? Don’t they know there are hospitals all over the world, filled with kids fighting cancer? Of course they do not. Why would they? It is much easier to live in,”The Real Housewives of Scottsdale,” than in, “The Real Housewives of Childhood Cancer.”

Just as I was about to fling myself onto the couch across from me, to strangle the two happy mommies, as they sat in deep in conversation in regards to our worlds problems….. “What are we going to do with all of our free time now that our kids are back in school??? “Yoga or Tennis?” mommy # 1 said. “Tennis has much cuter outfits. Let’s take up Tennis.” mommy #2 said. “I agree, but what am I going to do without my Nanny?” mommy #1 said. “I have to hire a new one soon, because taking care of a one year old, alone, is just too much for me. And it’s interfering with my Yoga.”

Deep breaths, I told myself. No judging. I closed my eyes as the conversation continued on… the screaming started inside of my head. And then she appeared. She, as in the beautiful woman, with the bald head, and hat on. She sat down right next to me. She looked like an angel. I touched her arm. The words, “Do you have cancer?” Just flew out of my mouth. Fuck. Did I really just say that? So elegant, Maya. I wish I would have just said to her, “Are you o.k.?” She smiled, told me yes. My next words were, “Are you going to be o.k.?” I wished they would have been my first. I’m still so very new to this world. I have no idea how to navigate it; and my bluntness tends to just organically take over. She told me she was going to be o.k. That they had caught her Breast Cancer at Stage 1. I felt a wave of warmth wash over me. I told her I had a bracelet for her and handed her an F U Cancer bracelet. I had my computer screen open, and your picture was on it. I then told her about you and how you, my 3-year-old, had just died of cancer. She looked shocked to say the least. I put on my bravest face as she sat with tears in her eyes and asked all about you. I did my best to tell her some of your story. It felt like another out-of-body experience. We sat for about 45 minutes and talked. It turns out, her little boy goes to the same school as Liam and Quinn. Such a strange, small world we live in. Such a coincidence. Or not. Such another sign from you. We exchanged smiles, tears, anger, and phone numbers today. I have a feeling I will be seeing her again. This story literally leaves me with my head spinning. Babydoll. I don’t know why this happened to you; but I know there is a much bigger reason than life. You were meant for so much more than just being on this earth. As much as I hate it, and would give anything to have you back here; I know there is something else. Watching all of these little things, that you are making happen, feels as if I am watching you being born, all over again. It often leaves me breathless, exhausted, scared, and vulnerable. But the “life,” part that you are creating, is going to be so beautiful. I just know it.

After I left Starbucks, I went to visit one of our lovies. I tried my best to sit still and articulate all of the thoughts I have swarming around in my head. I couldn’t even do it. My quietness crept in and took over. I am such an easy book to read. The quietness on the outside is always when I am screaming the loudest in my head. Our lovie knows this. Conversation went something like this:

Me: “Hi. I’m just sitting here, trying to figure out how I’m going to change the world.”

Lovie: “You are going to change the world. I have no doubt about that.”

Lovie: “What is going on with you? Why are you so anxious today?”

Me: (insert smartass reply here) “Um, I don’t know…. maybe because of the fact that my child is dead.”

Lovie: “No. That’s not it. There is something else going on. These past few days, your anxiety has been really high.”

Me:(insert another smartass comment here) “Fine. Maybe it’s because of this list. (throw yellow legal pad across couch) My shit list of 500 nothings, but everything, things that I have to get done.”

I tried to blame my anxiety on the “Shit List,” today, which has everything on it from buying toilet paper to writing Dr. Kushner a Fuck Off letter. The “Shit List,” of 500 nothings but everythings that are bogging me down. So many things that I don’t even know where to start. Did I really just not pick up our dry-cleaning, go to the bank, to the grocery store, today because I just couldn’t?? What the fuck is wrong with me that I could not complete these simple tasks today? Those things could have been easily done and checked off my list. I went Inferno Hiking instead; just hoping to run into that Pink Rattlesnake that Tammy told me about yesterday. I actually had a full on conversation in my head today with that Pink Rattlesnake as I was running up the mountain in 112 degree heat.

In my head, it slithered in front of me, showed me it’s fangs and told me it was going to bite my leg. I told that Pink Rattlesnake, that if it tried, I would kick off it’s head off and kill it because the world took you away, so now, I am invincible to any kind of pain. I know what it is like to feel the worst pain possible, so the pain inflicted by the Pink Rattlesnakes bite, would not hurt me at all. He would be wasting his time and his venom on someone who would feel nothing. I watched as the Pink Rattlesnake, slithered away down the trail to take cover under a shaded bush. I continued on my run up the rocky trail. I was almost to the top, where most people choose to stop, at the first bench. A man was sitting there. I took out my headphones and said hello and what in the heck are you doing up here, as nobody is ever out hiking when I am, in the middle of this heat. The man laughed and told me to come sit down next to him. I told him, no way…. that if he wanted my company than he was going to have to keep up with me and continue up the rest of the hill to the second bench. He got up and followed behind me. I told him that I was running up the hill, not walking, and that he’d better keep up. He did a pretty good job, all while managing to tell me that he had just moved here from Idaho, just got a divorce, he has 3 kids, used to live here when he was little. I listened, quietly, and didn’t really say much of anything. I focused on getting my butt up to the top of our place, as fast as I could. Mountain Mike said I was trying to kill him. I laughed. We got to the top, I did my breathing, pacing, and just being. Mountain Mike did all of the talking for about 15 minutes. I kept thinking…. fuck…. I’m going to have to say those words again when he asks about me. Sometimes I don’t feel like telling strangers about you, but then I feel like I am being dishonest about you, us and what has just happened. Mike asked me what my story was.

Me: “Well, you are basically looking at a human being, living life on this earth, in Hell.

Mountain Mike: “Why? Are you going through a divorce?”

Me: “No. My 3 year old son just died of cancer, hence the reason for the Inferno Hiking.”

Mountain Mike: “I am so sorry. You know, I feel like my divorce is a death. I was married to her for 25 years.”

Me: “Mike. That sucks. But you know what, I’m sure you will fall in love again and your heart will be repaired. Mine won’t ever be. EVER.”

I gave Mountain Mike one of your bracelets, told him to look you up, and then maybe he would understand a little more. I told him goodbye, it was nice meeting him, and I would see him on the way down. He started the trek down the mountain. I stayed at the top to do my talking to you. I stayed for about 15 minutes, put my headphones back on, and hauled ass as fast as I could back down to the bottom. I passed Mountain Mike again during my run. I told him to have a good day.

I was hoping the Inferno Hike would have helped to quiet my mind today; but it didn’t. I survived today somehow, but barely. I picked up your brothers from school, took them to Doctor Beth for a 2 hour individual session. Stacy came by to try to help calm me down over my “Shit List.” We went over everything I need to get done. She settled me down. After Dr. Beth we went to dinner with Daddy. I cannot even tell you how painful that was. We to to Wally’s and the owner goes, “How many?” I automatically said, “Five.” Fuck. I than said, “Actually just 4.” I keep forgetting that you are not behind me, running off, throwing rocks or doing something else naughty that I loved so much. The 4 of us sat at a table. It was just sad and pathetic.

We came home, played a board game as a family. We all got ready for bed. I tried to just sit and watch T.V. with everyone. I hate the T.V. now. I got up, headed into your room and just wanted to be alone so I could sob into your pillows, stuffed animals, and let your bed swallow me whole. I don’ t go into your room very often and tonight I so just wanted to sit in there, alone. But Quinn followed me. GODFUCKINGDAMNIT. I could not break down in front of him, I could not sit and sob for you, the way I so wanted to and needed to. Instead, I sat with Quinn quietly in the dark, held it all inside, and listened to him talk about how he used to love to sleep in your bed with you. I talked to him about you, let him love on me when that is so the last thing I wanted. I loved on him back, told him what an amazing little boy he was how I am so lucky to be a mommy to both him and Liam. None of it felt good or comforting to me. But as of now, very little things do. This is a hard pill for me to swallow. I am still so numb, sad, and in shock. Your daddy said to me tonight that he thinks the sadness from us of missing you is only going to get worse. I told him I agreed. For once, I didn’t try to argue back. He’s right. He knows too. We are all broken, Ro. I don’t know what to do with all of these broken pieces. Are they fixable? I don’t know. All I know is the pain today, was too much because I sat by and watched as all of us had a tough day. I can deal with my pain, but sitting back and watching your brothers and Daddy is so overwhelming sometimes. Just when I think I am strong, that I can get through this; it’s days like today that have me wanting to just throw in the towel. It’s days like today that I have to remind myself of you and how you lived your life. You never gave up. I have to use that strength from you, to survive days like today.

I have to go now, babydoll. I love you to the moon and back. I hope you are safe. I love you, Ro.

xoxo

The beautiful stranger, life, death, and life again

Ronan. 2 steps forward, 3 steps back. Is that how this is going to work? That’s how I feel today. I had one of those days, where I feel as I can’t breathe without you. It started off the way it always does. “Good Morning, boys! Time to wake up. I’ve started your shower.” (insert happy face here)

Shower, teeth brushed, breakfast made, ….. wait. Where’s Ronan? I need to make his eggies. Oh. Ronan is not here….. but continue on anyway. Lunches packed, water bottles filled, dishes done, lights off, boys in car… off to school. Where are you? Because once again, you are not here. I always know this, but some days it smacks me in the face, harder than others.

Autopilot continues on. Boys dropped off, but I knew this morning, that I could not go home to an empty house. I took all of my “busy,” work and my computer to Starbucks so I could sit and get some things done. Coffee, couch alone, laptop out, headphones on, music blaring, and I did my best to ignore all the happy people walking around like sunshine was coming out of their asses. WTF you jerks. Don’t you know that my son just died of cancer? Why is everyone so happy and bliss? Don’t they know there are hospitals all over the world, filled with kids fighting cancer? Of course they do not. Why would they? It is much easier to live in,”The Real Housewives of Scottsdale,” than in, “The Real Housewives of Childhood Cancer.”

Just as I was about to fling myself onto the couch across from me, to strangle the two happy mommies, as they sat in deep in conversation in regards to our worlds problems….. “What are we going to do with all of our free time now that our kids are back in school??? “Yoga or Tennis?” mommy # 1 said. “Tennis has much cuter outfits. Let’s take up Tennis.” mommy #2 said. “I agree, but what am I going to do without my Nanny?” mommy #1 said. “I have to hire a new one soon, because taking care of a one year old, alone, is just too much for me. And it’s interfering with my Yoga.”

Deep breaths, I told myself. No judging. I closed my eyes as the conversation continued on… the screaming started inside of my head. And then she appeared. She, as in the beautiful woman, with the bald head, and hat on. She sat down right next to me. She looked like an angel. I touched her arm. The words, “Do you have cancer?” Just flew out of my mouth. Fuck. Did I really just say that? So elegant, Maya. I wish I would have just said to her, “Are you o.k.?” She smiled, told me yes. My next words were, “Are you going to be o.k.?” I wished they would have been my first. I’m still so very new to this world. I have no idea how to navigate it; and my bluntness tends to just organically take over. She told me she was going to be o.k. That they had caught her Breast Cancer at Stage 1. I felt a wave of warmth wash over me. I told her I had a bracelet for her and handed her an F U Cancer bracelet. I had my computer screen open, and your picture was on it. I then told her about you and how you, my 3-year-old, had just died of cancer. She looked shocked to say the least. I put on my bravest face as she sat with tears in her eyes and asked all about you. I did my best to tell her some of your story. It felt like another out-of-body experience. We sat for about 45 minutes and talked. It turns out, her little boy goes to the same school as Liam and Quinn. Such a strange, small world we live in. Such a coincidence. Or not. Such another sign from you. We exchanged smiles, tears, anger, and phone numbers today. I have a feeling I will be seeing her again. This story literally leaves me with my head spinning. Babydoll. I don’t know why this happened to you; but I know there is a much bigger reason than life. You were meant for so much more than just being on this earth. As much as I hate it, and would give anything to have you back here; I know there is something else. Watching all of these little things, that you are making happen, feels as if I am watching you being born, all over again. It often leaves me breathless, exhausted, scared, and vulnerable. But the “life,” part that you are creating, is going to be so beautiful. I just know it.

After I left Starbucks, I went to visit one of our lovies. I tried my best to sit still and articulate all of the thoughts I have swarming around in my head. I couldn’t even do it. My quietness crept in and took over. I am such an easy book to read. The quietness on the outside is always when I am screaming the loudest in my head. Our lovie knows this. Conversation went something like this:

Me: “Hi. I’m just sitting here, trying to figure out how I’m going to change the world.”

Lovie: “You are going to change the world. I have no doubt about that.”

Lovie: “What is going on with you? Why are you so anxious today?”

Me: (insert smartass reply here) “Um, I don’t know…. maybe because of the fact that my child is dead.”

Lovie: “No. That’s not it. There is something else going on. These past few days, your anxiety has been really high.”

Me:(insert another smartass comment here) “Fine. Maybe it’s because of this list. (throw yellow legal pad across couch) My shit list of 500 nothings, but everything, things that I have to get done.”

I tried to blame my anxiety on the “Shit List,” today, which has everything on it from buying toilet paper to writing Dr. Kushner a Fuck Off letter. The “Shit List,” of 500 nothings but everythings that are bogging me down. So many things that I don’t even know where to start. Did I really just not pick up our dry-cleaning, go to the bank, to the grocery store, today because I just couldn’t?? What the fuck is wrong with me that I could not complete these simple tasks today? Those things could have been easily done and checked off my list. I went Inferno Hiking instead; just hoping to run into that Pink Rattlesnake that Tammy told me about yesterday. I actually had a full on conversation in my head today with that Pink Rattlesnake as I was running up the mountain in 112 degree heat.

In my head, it slithered in front of me, showed me it’s fangs and told me it was going to bite my leg. I told that Pink Rattlesnake, that if it tried, I would kick off it’s head off and kill it because the world took you away, so now, I am invincible to any kind of pain. I know what it is like to feel the worst pain possible, so the pain inflicted by the Pink Rattlesnakes bite, would not hurt me at all. He would be wasting his time and his venom on someone who would feel nothing. I watched as the Pink Rattlesnake, slithered away down the trail to take cover under a shaded bush. I continued on my run up the rocky trail. I was almost to the top, where most people choose to stop, at the first bench. A man was sitting there. I took out my headphones and said hello and what in the heck are you doing up here, as nobody is ever out hiking when I am, in the middle of this heat. The man laughed and told me to come sit down next to him. I told him, no way…. that if he wanted my company than he was going to have to keep up with me and continue up the rest of the hill to the second bench. He got up and followed behind me. I told him that I was running up the hill, not walking, and that he’d better keep up. He did a pretty good job, all while managing to tell me that he had just moved here from Idaho, just got a divorce, he has 3 kids, used to live here when he was little. I listened, quietly, and didn’t really say much of anything. I focused on getting my butt up to the top of our place, as fast as I could. Mountain Mike said I was trying to kill him. I laughed. We got to the top, I did my breathing, pacing, and just being. Mountain Mike did all of the talking for about 15 minutes. I kept thinking…. fuck…. I’m going to have to say those words again when he asks about me. Sometimes I don’t feel like telling strangers about you, but then I feel like I am being dishonest about you, us and what has just happened. Mike asked me what my story was.

Me: “Well, you are basically looking at a human being, living life on this earth, in Hell.

Mountain Mike: “Why? Are you going through a divorce?”

Me: “No. My 3 year old son just died of cancer, hence the reason for the Inferno Hiking.”

Mountain Mike: “I am so sorry. You know, I feel like my divorce is a death. I was married to her for 25 years.”

Me: “Mike. That sucks. But you know what, I’m sure you will fall in love again and your heart will be repaired. Mine won’t ever be. EVER.”

I gave Mountain Mike one of your bracelets, told him to look you up, and then maybe he would understand a little more. I told him goodbye, it was nice meeting him, and I would see him on the way down. He started the trek down the mountain. I stayed at the top to do my talking to you. I stayed for about 15 minutes, put my headphones back on, and hauled ass as fast as I could back down to the bottom. I passed Mountain Mike again during my run. I told him to have a good day.

I was hoping the Inferno Hike would have helped to quiet my mind today; but it didn’t. I survived today somehow, but barely. I picked up your brothers from school, took them to Doctor Beth for a 2 hour individual session. Stacy came by to try to help calm me down over my “Shit List.” We went over everything I need to get done. She settled me down. After Dr. Beth we went to dinner with Daddy. I cannot even tell you how painful that was. We to to Wally’s and the owner goes, “How many?” I automatically said, “Five.” Fuck. I than said, “Actually just 4.” I keep forgetting that you are not behind me, running off, throwing rocks or doing something else naughty that I loved so much. The 4 of us sat at a table. It was just sad and pathetic.

We came home, played a board game as a family. We all got ready for bed. I tried to just sit and watch T.V. with everyone. I hate the T.V. now. I got up, headed into your room and just wanted to be alone so I could sob into your pillows, stuffed animals, and let your bed swallow me whole. I don’ t go into your room very often and tonight I so just wanted to sit in there, alone. But Quinn followed me. GODFUCKINGDAMNIT. I could not break down in front of him, I could not sit and sob for you, the way I so wanted to and needed to. Instead, I sat with Quinn quietly in the dark, held it all inside, and listened to him talk about how he used to love to sleep in your bed with you. I talked to him about you, let him love on me when that is so the last thing I wanted. I loved on him back, told him what an amazing little boy he was how I am so lucky to be a mommy to both him and Liam. None of it felt good or comforting to me. But as of now, very little things do. This is a hard pill for me to swallow. I am still so numb, sad, and in shock. Your daddy said to me tonight that he thinks the sadness from us of missing you is only going to get worse. I told him I agreed. For once, I didn’t try to argue back. He’s right. He knows too. We are all broken, Ro. I don’t know what to do with all of these broken pieces. Are they fixable? I don’t know. All I know is the pain today, was too much because I sat by and watched as all of us had a tough day. I can deal with my pain, but sitting back and watching your brothers and Daddy is so overwhelming sometimes. Just when I think I am strong, that I can get through this; it’s days like today that have me wanting to just throw in the towel. It’s days like today that I have to remind myself of you and how you lived your life. You never gave up. I have to use that strength from you, to survive days like today.

I have to go now, babydoll. I love you to the moon and back. I hope you are safe. I love you, Ro.

xoxo

A little seal and a hummingbird

Ronan. It’s only been a week since you left. How can that possibly be? It feels like you left such a long time ago. I think about you all the time. You are never not in my thoughts. I got through another day without you. I don’t know how; but I did. I took Liam and Quinn back to school today. We went in late and I was nervous for them to go back. As we walked in, I explained how some of the kids might ask about you, and I tried to prep them on what to say. I wanted to prepare them as much as possible. They both seemed o.k. I could tell Quinn was more nervous than Liam. Once we got to the classroom, they both seemed fine and their friends were happy to have them back. I left them there feeling like it was their first day of school; my heart was sad but I know normalcy is important for them now. We have such little of that in our life with you being gone. I have to slowly start picking up the pieces and I feel like getting them back to school for the time that they have left will be a good thing. They are such strong little boys. I know you are so proud of them.

After I dropped off Liam and Quinn, I ran some errands with your Nana. It felt weird to be out but I constantly feel the need to be busy. At one point we were at the cash register somewhere and I said out loud,  “I can’t believe he is gone.” I talk to myself all the time now. My hands shake all of the time. I talk to you out loud a lot too. We all tell you goodnight every night. I still feel like you can hear us. I took your Nana to get her tattoo today. She got 3 stars on her foot for you, Liam, and Quinn. It turned out so beautiful. Afterwords, we went to lunch. We were supposed to meet Tricia and Marisa at Wildflower, but I ended up going to the wrong location. My head is still not on straight. Fernanda called while we were sitting in a booth together. I stepped outside to talk to her for a few minutes. I ended up bawling my head off and I kept saying to her that I didn’t understand how your little heart could have just stopped, just like that. I mean it makes no sense at all; but I don’t even understand medically how it happens. How is it possible that you and your little life just stopped? You were so full of life and I will never understand how it was taken away so quickly. Just like that, in a blink of an eye. I’ll never forget when you were first diagnosed and your Daddy and I sat in a little room together and how scared he was. I remember grabbing him and saying, “Woody. If anyone can beat this, it’s him.” I had no doubt in my mind that you would grow up to be a healthy boy. I never in my wildest dreams thought this would have been the outcome. I don’t think anybody really did.

Once I returned home, I kept myself busy with stupid chores. I am putting together a hard core plan about how I am going to clean our already spotless house. How maybe if I scrub hard enough, it will pass the time more quickly. I’ve decided I will tackle the closet tomorrow. I know what this process is all about. I have already decided I am going clean every inch of this house until the only thing left to do is your room. The room that I walk past as little as possible during the days but I let me eyes drift over to your toys as I am expecting to see you in there playing. I am so scared of your room. But I know I have to go in there eventually. I will, after everything else is perfectly in place. Until then, I just simply cannot. My stomach instantly gets sick just thinking about it. I just need more time.

After Liam and Quinn came home from school, we had Luke and Lily over. We walked down to Uncle Jays and went swimming. Wesley and Laely came too. It was good for me to be around them today. I thought it was going to be hard, but there sweet souls soothed me. Well, maybe not soothed me as I don’t think there is anything that can do that right now. But it didn’t feel awful for me to be around them. Baby steps, baby. Baby steps.

Everyone around me is stumbling. I wish I could be blind to it but I’m not. Watching Liam, Quinn, and your Daddy is the hardest for me to see. Last night, after your service we were all walking out of The Desert Botanical Gardens together. There was a wishing fountain right before the parking lot. We all stopped and Liam threw in a coin. He said he wished for you to come back. I honestly thought I was going to crumble on the spot but Quinn distracted me by trying to steal the money out of the fountain. I gave him a quick talking to about how he couldn’t take the money out of the fountain because it was other people’s wishes. He then made some snarky comment about how wishes don’t come true. Fuck. I dug deep down and told him, that they indeed do come true, but I didn’t have the energy to finish the bullshit pep talk. How do you try to convince a 7-year-old who just sat though his baby brothers memorial service that by throwing a fucking penny in a fountain that what they wish for will come true. The truth is, you don’t. And if you do, you’re a better person than me. Or maybe just a better bullshitter:)

Your daddy asked me tonight when I was going to break. Or if I was just going to hold this all in until I finally explode. We are not in sync with our grieving process at all. I wonder, if this is normal? Am I holding it all together so he can grieve and I can be strong for him? Then when it is my turn, he will be able to be strong for me? Part of me thinks so. If we were both dealing with this, the same way, at the same time….. I don’t know how we would go on for Liam and Quinn. Don’t get me wrong. I have my moments when I sob like a baby. But I try my hardest to do this when I’m not around anyone else. I save it for the moments that I know you are closest to me and when I look to you for comfort. You are so good at comforting me, Ro. You still give me so much strength.

I have two pictures I am posting tonight. One, was taken by the insanely talented Emily Carroll. She came to capture some images from Ronan’s service last night. This hummingbird kept appearing in her camera. Do you know what they say about hummingbirds? I do. My dad taught me about he importance of Hummingbirds. They are special and the fact that this little guy was fluttering about during Ronan’s service.. well that speaks volumes in itself. Thanks for letting me know you were there, Ronan. And that you are o.k. Thank you for capturing this moment, Emily.

It is not commonly known that the fluttering wings of the hummingbird move in the pattern of an infinity symbol – further solidifying their symbolism of eternity, continuity, and infinity.

By observing the Hummingbird, we see they are seemingly tireless. Always actively seeking the sweetest nectar, they remind us to forever seek out the good in life and the beauty in each day.

Amazing migrators, some Hummingbirds are known to wing their way as far as 2000 miles to reach their destination. This quality reminds us to be persistent in the persuit of our dreams, and adopt the tenacity of the Hummingbird in our lives.

The Hummingbird animal totem is a messenger of hope and jubilation.

Hummingbird Animal Totems offer attributes like:

  • energy
  • vitality
  • joy
  • renewal
  • sincerity
  • healing
  • persistence
  • peace
  • infinity
  • agility
  • playfulness
  • loyalty
  • affection
 Need I say more? I don’t think so. The little signs are everywhere.
The last picture I am going to leave you with is one I took on my iPhone today while my mom was getting her tattoo done. I’m not crazy…. well at least not yet. Take a look at the white image where my mom is getting her ink done. I swear to god it looks like a little seal. The nose pointed to one of her stars, the flippers closer to her toes. Does anybody else see that??!!
I seriously think it was little Ronan’s spirit sitting with us today. After seeing this tonight on my camera, I am sure of it. I talked to him the entire day in my head. He never leaves my side. Thank you Ronan, for guiding me today. I know you know I am struggling with some things and how I am trying to figure out the path I am meant to take. You gave me a lot of answers today. I am going to follow your lead and listen to my heart and you. We are going to change the world baby. We are going to save others lives by finding a cure for this. I know it is our destiny. It was what we were meant to do in life. To help others, inspire others, teach others about what is REALLY important in life. Just to be better people in general. Let’s make this world a better place…. let’s find a cure for this Neuroblastoma bullshit by educating people and getting funding in place. I’m so going to be all over Yoplait soon. I am thinking they are my first target. If they can do pink ribbons for all of October on the top on their lids, the why the fuck can’t they do yellow for all of September. Mama’s mad. Mama’s on a mission. Somebody emailed me today and said they were ready to stand behind, “Maya’s Mafia.” That made me laugh out loud. I love it. I hope you are all game for this. If you stick behind my son and what we are about to do…. be ready for the most fulfilling journey of your life. Ronan had it all figured out by the almost the age of 4. I took very careful notes so I know all of his secrets, all of his tricks, and I now know what he was meant to do in this world. Just because he was so sickly robbed of his little life does not mean he cannot fulfill his dreams. I being his mama, his biggest fan, will get these things done for him. I’ll get by with a little help from my friends and all of his Rockstar Fans. I promise you. Amazing things are to come. Ronan was my gift that I am sharing with all of you and I am so thankful to do so. I know how much you all believe in him and know that he was meant to change the world. Start by helping me out anyway you can. Just getting his story out is the first step. This is going to take some time, but I want everyone to know about the most beautiful, bravest little boy, who could melt you with just one of his famous winks. FUCK YOU CANCER. You fucked up big time and you owe it to me that something good come out of this. We will start by raising awareness for your stupid ass disease that I had never in my life had heard of because I was uneducated and cocky. I’m sorry that ONLY 800 kids a year are diagnosed with this. 800 kids a year is more than plenty to fight for. So fuck you Neuroblastoma and your lack of education. I am about to blow your shit out of the water. You took my baby; so I’m not going to stop until somebody finally takes you, mother fucker.
Sooooooooo…… I think I got a little off track. Um yeah. It’s been way too long since I’ve said Fuck on my blog so I had to get a few of those out. And Ronan, you’re such a little badass now that you don’t even need earmuffs anymore buddy! I think you’ve earned your right to hear those words. I love you Ronan. We all love you so much. I told Quinn to dream about you tonight. I hope you visit him and you two play your little hearts out. Sweet dreams Ro baby. Sweet dreams my lovely friends. Hope your day tomorrow is full of all the little things my Ronan has left behind.
xoxo