Here’s what I know about life. Nothing.

Ronan. You know what I know about life? Nothing. Except for almost 4 years, I took care of you almost every single day. And then from the time you were diagnosed from the time you passed away, I was so emerged in the fighting for your life world and all of a sudden it’s just gone. Just like that. And now I am expected to go back to “life.” How wrong is that? How does one do that? I don’t know. You know what I feel like? This came to me last night as I was waiting for the devil Ambien to kick in, because yes, I’m back to that for the moment. I feel like somebody has taken my body out to the Arctic Sea. I feel like I am constantly being dipped in and out of that freezing ocean. And just as soon as I am starting to defrost, I am dipped back in where my entire body is shocked to the core. In and out in and out. It’s a never-ending feeling of numbness and pain in which I have no control over. That’s the best way I can describe it tonight, anyway. Then I was thinking about the outside, non bereaved world. I’ll bet they think the pain of this is something like putting a your most favorite dog to sleep. Not because they love their kids any less, but because I think unless you are in this situation, although you may try to understand you cannot possibly have any idea of how much this truly hurts. Does that sound cold, insensitive, and harsh? I don’t mean to. I’m only trying my best to explain how deep this pain is, to the outside world. Of how I know how much they think they can understand this, but they cannot. And for that, I am glad. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. I would never want somebody who has not gone though something like this, to truly be able to understand the pain that comes along with it. Not fully anyway. It is just too much.

This past week has been much harder than I had expected. I get that the holidays are around the corner and I keep hearing everyone talk about how hard they are going to be for us, but I’ve been doing my best just to get by. It’s only been these past few days that I have realized that I have no control over anything, no matter how strong I am trying to be. I’ve been crying non-stop. I am trying so hard to give Liam and Quinn a somewhat normal Christmas. I took them to Target and told them to pick out some things. I tried my best to put on my pretend mommy boots because they deserve to have a nice Christmas, whatever that means. But this year, when they were picking out a few things, I made them pick out some things for your friend here, Super Nate who is battling Neuroblastoma as well. They picked out a blue light saber that really lights up, a clone trooper bobble head, and your favorite, “guys helmet,” Captain Rex. I am trying my best to make sure they still get to be 8 years olds, having an 8-year-old Christmas, when all I want to do is strangle Santa and shoot the fucking elf on the shelfs head off with a machine gun.  I’ve had a talk with them about how hard this Christmas is going to be on all of us. I don’t know if what I am doing is right but all I know is I’m not going to hide the fact that this is our first Christmas without you and it fucking blows. I’ve told them this in a much nicer PG rating way though…… although I didn’t want to. I wanted to scream, kick, cuss and cry in front of them, but I didn’t. Somethings have to be done a little more gently with a little mama love thrown in. I’m running on empty but I gave it all I had. I hope it was enough.

I went to PCH I think on Wednesday or Thursday night. I can’t remember now. I went to see Nate and to give him his toys. I stayed a lot longer than I expected. He was so excited about the real light saber. I felt so blessed to be able to give it to him, from you. He let me play with him in his bed and he even let his mama slip out to take some things to her car and grab some food. I got to stay with him, alone. What a little doll. We played the funny monkey game on my iPhone but my favorite part was when I had him giggling up a storm by making his Storm Trooper bobble head eat some cheerios. His little laugh was priceless. He even let me kiss his bald head and said I could come back sometime to play. Just as I was walking out, I saw one of your favorites, playroom Kathy. She kidnapped me and I ended up staying another hour, just catching up with her. I saw some of your other favorite nurses, Kathy and Katie O. I cried when I saw them as I haven’t seen the two of them, since we were there getting your last round of chemo. I asked if you very favorite nurse, Arica was there but she was not. I told them to give her a hug for us anyway. It was nice to see them all but it made me super sad that you were not there with me. It turned into a full on party because Miss Elizabeth Blair ended up being on the floor as well, getting treatment. I got to give her a hug as well as her mommy and daddy. I left PCH feeling drained, but in a good way, I guess. I told your Mr. Sparkly Eyes that now going to a hospital to make a little boy smile feels so much better to me than sitting in a fancy restaurant, trying to enjoy something normal. Normal does not feel good. Normal does not exist. I would rather be off, doing something for someone else, than trying to pretend to live in a normal world where pretend normal dinners will never be the same. So, when I get a night out….. I would rather sit in a hospital with a bald-headed little boy than in a restaurant full of friendly faces. This is just the way it is now.

Being in our house has been really hard for me all week. Everything is making my skin crawl. Dr. Jo has been gone which I’m sure is part of the reason, I feel like I’m going to flip out. She has become my lifeline and the fact that I have not been able to see or talk to her, has been really difficult on me. Much harder on me than I thought it was going to be. I’ve been so tired from not sleeping well. I came home on Thursday and passed out for a little bit. Naps used to come so easily to me. To us. I fell asleep for about 15 minutes. It was restless and I dreamed of you, but in the worst way possible. I dreamed that I was watching you from your radiation table. You were looking at me in the eyes with such a look of trust because you knew that I was going to save you, because that is what I had promised. But than you died. I woke up to this nightmare only to find that it was indeed, my reality. It wasn’t a nightmare at all. I had dreamed the truth. So now for the past week sleep has become so painful and the days are too much to handle so I crawl into bed, begging to black out. This is where my frenemy, Ambien, has come back into play. I’m not happy about this at all. But sometimes, I need a break from everything. Including life.

I’ve been hiking and being active to try to calm down the never-ending screaming in my head. It’s not helping. I went up Camelback, late tonight, just like I’d said I’d never do again. I did. But this time, I was able to use my handy little flashlight app on my iPhone so I could see better. Thanks friends.

Ro baby. This is all for tonight. My brain is mush, my eyes are tired, and my heart is not fucking healing. I just want you back. Or I just want to be with you. I love you. I miss you. I hope you are safe.

xoxo