Maya decides not to die.

Ronan. I saw your Dr. JoRo today. It’s been way too long. It was a catch up session and a pow wow session combined. She wanted to know what’s been going on, if I’ve had quiet time, how I’m feeling, etc….. I told her today that I think I have decided that I’m not going to kill myself. She hardly flinched when I told her this as I think she already knows this. I guess I’ve known this for a while too….. but sometimes I think it would be nice to take the easy way out, so I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this pain. I get tired of it. But then I think of your face and how unfair that would be to you…. not to mention your daddy and brothers. And Dr. JoRo and Sparkly. And a whole lot of other people who love me. I could never be so selfish to actually do something like that. But I do think about it. Not a lot, but it does comes up. I’ll bet you it comes up with any parent who has lost a child. I’ll bet it is just part of this process. It almost seems natural due to being left here, expected to survive such extreme circumstances while everyone else goes on with their day-to-day lives. I won’t ever be able to go back to the day-to-day normal life that existed before all of this. Every single thing I do involves thinking about you, missing you, and hurting for you. Whether it be folding the laundry or how I am plotting to take over this world with my evil plans that often involve the fuck word that I love so much and seems to offend so many people. Bahahahahaha!!! That was my best, evil laugh. Fucking fuck little dude. People are sick and want to see me fail. I fully get that. It’s just the way this world works. I don’t have much to say to that because it’s not really worth my words. I just feel sorry for them and the things in life that they choose to HIDE behind. What a pitiful life. All I’m trying to do here is spread the RoLove and maybe help save some cancer babes lives while I’m at it. But I understand how that could seem so evil as I am not doing this the traditional route. I’m choosing to do this my way or the highway and anybody who has a problem with that can SUCK IT MOTHER FUCKERS!!!!!!!! Traditional is not my style when it comes to, “Oh, I’m sorry, but my son died of cancer so let’s just sit back and be nice about it while I shut the fuck up and don’t be vocal about it so things don’t ever change.” Gag me.

People are scared of different. They would rather sit back and judge and hide instead. Uhhhh…… hate to break it to ya, but nobody normal, ever really changed the world. It’s always the rule breakers, the outside of the box thinkers, the passionate ones, the one’s who don’t take NO for an answer, the one’s who FIGHT back not slink away, the “crazy,” ones. It’s not the let’s play it safe guys and do everything the same exact way, that everyone else is doing, or let’s just not do anything at all. That won’t change a thing. I’m not here to follow anyone’s else’s lead, unless you are a rule breaker too, then we can talk. I’m here to listen. I’m here to be inspired. I’m here to watch the way some other very inspiring people are doing things differently in life. I’m here to grab onto the hands of the people who are willing to do things differently as well. It will take an army to change things, I know this which is why I am sitting back and quietly observing a lot. It’s as if I’m seeing a whole new world of people out there. They are so beautiful that it’s blinding. In a good way. It’s feels so good to be blinded by the sparkling lights of the human soul.

Do you wanna know one of the sparkling lights that I am blinded by every single day? So much so that she is in my daily thoughts because I love her that much. My Dr. JoRo. In my dream of all dreams, and I have many, she is in each one of them. I would walk through fire for her. If money were no object, I would give childhood cancer funding and her MISS Foundation, everything I had. The fact that she has to work so hard, for the funding she gets, which is not a lot for all she does, is such bullshit. Everyone should be supporting her. She is saving the lives of all these parents in the world who are just tossed out into the streets, so scared and vulnerable. She is fighting the good fight and how in the world isn’t EVERYBODY supporting her? She is not doing this to make money or line her pockets like so many other organizations out there. Ummm, hello…. Dr. JoRo does not even take a salary from the MISS Foundation. She is THAT kind of a human being. She is an anomaly in this world. She could give a flying fuck about making money for herself. She wants to help others and that’s it. There is no hidden agenda. What you see is what you get and what you get. And what you get is one of the SMARTEST, KINDEST, PASSIONATE and BADASS souls that I swear to you Ro, has ever existed. She is my Gandhi. I need you to watch over her. I need her to be here with me for a very long time because we have a lot of work to do, together. I know Chey is watching over everything she does so she really is in the best hands possible; but I know you are helping out now too. I know you are the one who led me to her. Yes, I got your little sign. The JoRo sign. It’s not a coincidence that her middle name is ROse, baby. I know that. Thank you.

I not only go into Dr. JoRo’s office to talk about death, grief and all things painful. We also talk a lot about life things, which was probably one of her biggest clues that I had decided not to off myself. I guess when you are talking about the future, it means you are less likely to kill yourself. At least in my case. I’m not the grief expert or anything, but this would seem to make sense. Today, I went in there and we discussed an email I had shared with her that I had written out. Today, I went in there with “I have an idea. A really, really big idea….” I have a lot of these ideas in my head that I am so excited about, I want to scream them from the rooftops and go jumping right in, but I understand it is easier said then done. In my mind, everyone should just hear my ideas and say, “Yes! You are a genius! Here is your 100 million dollars! Let’s start saving all these cancer babes!” Dr. JoRo quickly brought me back to reality in the most tender, caring way. By saying, “I absolutely think you can get this done, but let’s cross off X,Y, and Z to get there first and I will help you. This has to be a really well, thought out plan. So, let’s sit down with this dream of yours and figure out what it is we need to do, to make it happen.”

I like a plan. A plan says your serious. And I am serious in the most serious way possible; with everything I have. With everything that is you. But I understand there has to be logic, rules and structure in place as well. I can play by the rules with some things, but I will keep it extra spicy for you too of course just to put your little spin on things. Lots of big dreams all inspired by you and all the other kids and families we’ve been touched by. Cancer peeps and non cancer peeps. It’s amazing to see the movement you are creating.

There is no dream that is big enough for you, Ronan. I promise you that. I promise you, we will get this done. This is what you want. I know it. I love you. I miss you. I hope you are safe. I’m going to try to get some sleep. My new motto is, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” I said this to your favorite lovie the other night. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t like it. He thinks I need my sleep. I will try to listen to that voice of reason of his that seems to be the one I listen to. And yours. Although, I feel like yours is always pushing me not to listen and to break the rules. You are so spicy. G’nite baby doll. I love you to the moon and back. G’nite little RoFriends. You are the best for believing in us and for letting Ro make you better people. I love you.

xoxo

Self control vs Self destruction. And Happy Fucking New Year.

Ronan. Happy Fucking New Year. No. There will never be anything “Happy,” about it again. This is how I know I will never be normal again. This is how I know, I will continue to live in Zombieland. Because everything stings so much that I can’t be among the living. Everyone is so busy being happy. It’s as if they have all forgotten about you. But what do I expect? For everybody to take this year off, from celebrating their beautiful lives? For the ball not to drop in New York City? Exactly. I told you life goes on for others.

We are back home and I’ll admit it, I’m acting like a brat. We got home on the night of our 10 year anniversary and I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t fake it at all. The happiness that I am supposed to feel. I am thankful….. For as much as I can be. But feeling happy just does not exist. Your daddy didn’t ask much, but the little he asked, I couldn’t do. All he wanted was some acknowledgment that our 10 years was a big deal. I gave him my snarky commentary about why the fuck does everyone make such a big deal about 10 years, when every year should be just as sacred and valued. I begged him to please just skip over the 10 years and next year we could do something nice. I don’t want to celebrate anything when everything feels so wrong. He told me he had a gift for me which made me lose it even more as I specifically told him there was nothing I wanted. He said he knew, but it was something he wanted me to have anyway. I pretty purple amethyst ring. I told him to take it back. He told me he wanted me to know how much he loved me. I begged and pleaded with him to take it away and told him I didn’t need things to know how much he loved me. That I already knew and would always know. He insisted that you would love for me to have it and that you would have told me how “cute,” I looked wearing it. I just laid in bed and sobbed while I kept one eye on your Urn. I made him take the ring away and told him I wasn’t worthy of pretty things because I let you die. I fell asleep in a puddle of my own tears. I had spent the day being so proud of myself for the stupidest things that I used to be able to do, in my sleep. I got your brothers from Portland to Phoenix, safe and sound, all by myself. I checked in our luggage. We had dinner at the airport. We made it through security, to our flight, and home. This is a big thing to accomplish, when you have a dead child. Traveling with 2, not 3 little guys was such a mental head game, that I really don’t know how I did it. But I did and I of course, did a fucking good job. Gold star for me. After we landed in Phoenix, I listened to myself, telling myself in my head, what a good job I had done. Then I went to, are you FUCKING kidding me? This is something that you now get to be proud of? Something you used to be able to do in your sleep? What kind of fuckery is this? Well, I’ll tell you. It’s the most fucking fucked kind of fuckery that exists. It is my life now.

I ran around all day Friday, catching up on things and being pissed off that I was wearing a strapless dress because it was hot enough in January, to do so. Bloody hell. Where was my rainy gloomy weather that is so able to explain how I feel, without me having to say a word? Where were my rain boots and dirty, muddy puddles of tears? The tears that I was able to take a break from crying because the weather was able to cry for me just for a bit so I let it. They were back in Washington, that’s where. So, I spent all Friday, running about being blinded by the fake plastic trees of this world that I feel like kicking the shit out of. Where I have to put on my fake, sunny smile because that’s what the weather wants me to do but Ro, I don’t want to do it. I want to go and live in my underground world with all the other bereaved parents of the world where happiness and sunshine no longer exist. I don’t want to have to listen to the others in the world as they complain about their bad days which include things like getting a flat tire or their nanny being sick. When I hear these things it is all I can do to not cover my ears and drop down into the fetal position. Maybe I should just start doing that. I wonder how different this world would be if we all acted the way we felt really felt instead of hiding everything behind our lipgloss and dark sunglasses. I’ll bet it would be a complete mess but at least it would be a TRUE complete mess and not so fake and insincere. I was also having some major mom guilt on Friday so one of my errands included going to the grocery store. You know how much I hate this now, Ro. I freeze up, freak out, and panic. I made myself do it because the thought of your brothers living off of processed food any longer is destroying me. I don’t cook anymore, unless you count cereal, frozen pizza, fruit or veggies. Your daddy has taken over the majority of the cooking. It is something that I used to live for back in the days when you were here and you were my favorite little helper. The two of us, cooking together, was my heaven. I wanted to make your daddy feel good by coming home to a home cooked meal, like he used to. The one he deserves to come home to, every night. I made it half way through my shopping, panicked over some mom who was pushing her little boy in the cart and almost abandoned all of my groceries to bolt for my car. I took a deep breath and stopped myself from doing so. I had to talk myself through every next step in order to get to finish up the shopping and get to the checkout line. I couldn’t get out of there, fast enough. I came home and whipped up dinner, without a recipe or anything. Just from memory only. The one that does not really exist anymore. I made your daddy and brothers, homemade Shepard’s Pie. Your daddy said it was the best one I had ever made and wanted to know what I had done differently. I wanted to tell him how the only thing I did differently was cry the entire time I was making it because I couldn’t stop thinking about how you wouldn’t be there, to eat it with us. Sitting down, at our dinner table with your seat, empty is also something that just kills me. So, I may have made dinner, but I couldn’t get out of the house fast enough for the plans I had made a few days in advance.

I spent Friday night with some girls which I never take the time to do anymore either. We didn’t go out, but rather stayed in, instead. I picked up Mandy Bee and we headed out to Kristi’s house for a special night which of course was inspired by you. The best nights, always are. I know you were there, I know you saw and that’s all I’m saying about our night, for now. It was a true rock and roll night, in the most innocent way possible. It was a night that for as painful as it was, I actually felt myself having fun. Thank you, K…. for such a wonderful night. I don’t get those very often anymore. It was nice to let everything slide away for a bit and get lost in a world of beauty parlors, some good reality T.V. laughs, and a little blood, too;) And Mizpah, Mandy Bee. Thank you. I love you my crazy stalker bestie. Thank you for not being afraid of the dark with me. No matter how scary it gets. And for breaking down my door when I won’t pick up the phone, the lights are off, the doors are barricaded shut but you somehow manage to break them down anyway. I know you didn’t know him, but how I wish you would have. Thank you for loving him like you did.

I don’t know what happened today except for we all slept in and that seemed to throw everything off. I woke up, did the big breakfast thing with your daddy and brothers, threw up, showered, and ran out to get your daddy’s car washed just to get out of the fucking house full of loud T.V. and noise. I ran to Smart and Final to stock up your brothers drinks for their school lunches. I had a panic attack in the parking lot and had the urge to do something really self-destructive. Anything. I seriously contemplated driving to the nearest bar to get shit faced drunk. And I don’t even drink, Ronan. But I wanted something, anything, to make this pain go away even if just for a short amount of time. I wanted a break or to feel something differently, than this. Anything. I sat, cried, almost did…..but did not. Self destruct or self control? Today, self-control won. I am scared for the day that it will not. I came home exhausted from the hour I spent crying, fell into bed and drifted in and out of sleep for the next 4 hours. I hid in our bed, until the bright sun disappeared and I had enough of dreaming the dreams where all I can seem to do, is cry and scream in them. I feel like I live in between two worlds. One of real reality and one of fake reality. They both suck and I can’t win either way. The dreams I dream of always involve watching myself cry due to this nightmare. Happiness does not exist, anywhere without you, Ronan. At least not for me…. not even in my dreams.

Alright baby boy. This is enough for tonight. I wish I had something happier to say… an ounce of hope to give you…. a glimmer of the happiness that I hope to one day be able to feel again. But this is me, today. This is the best I can do. I guess just be proud that I am here and I didn’t drive off the cliff that I made up in my head today. I love you so much. I miss you every second of every day. I hope you are safe.

xoxo

Dear Lovely Little Blog Readers,

Thank you. For sticking with me. For hugging your kids tighter. For appreciating everything in your life, so much more than you did before you knew Ronan and our story. Thank you for helping me keep him alive by thinking about him, loving him, and letting him make you all better people. It keeps me going even during my darkest hours. I wish you all only health and happiness in 2012. Because we all know if health exists, then happiness does too. I love you. Ronan loves you. Please be safe! No drinking and driving!

xoxo

There’s nothing like muddy boots on a rainy day

Ronan. I don’t know what happy feels like anymore. But being back here, is the closest thing to happy I’ve felt since losing you. It’s no secret. I’m a Washington girl at heart. I love everything about the Pacific Northwest. I think it’s one of the most beautiful places on the planet. I really needed to get out of Arizona and the forever bright, sunny skies and fake plastic trees. I needed some rain, gloom, and mud. I needed some down time without feeling the never-ending pressure of being busy and on the go. I needed to get away from the sociopathic “friend,” that I cannot seem to escape. I needed room to breathe. I miss it here. I’ve been hiding out though. Spending time with just your brothers, Nana, and Papa Jim. Normally, I would make time to see all the old familiar faces that I miss so much. But I’ve been too scared. I know what I look like and it’s not pretty. It’s sad and painful. I would rather keep sad and painful to myself. I’ve haven’t really left your Nana and Papa’s house. Except to run the lake. This has been my only escape. The rain has been constant, just the way I like it. I’m going to be sad to leave and get back to the sun that constantly seems to be blinding me. I am glad we came and I am glad we had the best time possible. We all missed you though. That never goes away no matter where we go.

Tonight, your brothers and I went to dinner with Nana and Papa. I’m trying to keep my meal down but I don’t think it’s going to happen. We stopped at the lake after dinner. I told your brothers how when I ran the lake today, I stopped and swung on the swings. I asked if they wanted to swing tonight in the cold, dark, rainy weather. They said they did so we had Papa Jim pull over and let us out of the truck. We ran around on the playground together. They were so excited as the playground equipment is all new and it had lots of fun things to play on. I dared Quinn to go down the big slide even though it was soaking wet. He did. Liam followed and ran around shouting how he was “The King of the WORLD!!!!!!!” as he climbed to some tall tower. We all talked about how much you would have gone crazy on this playground. I was able to put my sadness for you, away in my little back pocket for the 15 minutes that we played. I chased your brothers. I pushed them on the swings. I ran around with them. It reminded me of how much I love them. I mean, I know this Ronan. But when going through something like this, pain overshadows everything and it makes it hard to feel like you are able to feel love again. It might be the protection mode I have gone into as well. There was nobody closer than the two of us and then you got sick and died. I have put up a wall as it seems to be instinctual to me, to protect myself from getting hurt again. This wall was invisible tonight. It disappeared. I watched your brothers and seeing how happy they were, running around late at night, with just me, made everything else disappear. It was a good reminder that I have done such a good job with them so far, and I don’t want to fuck that up anymore than I already have. I want to be a better mama to them. I want to not be so sad all the time. I want to be thankful that I have them. They are everything to me. They deserve to have a mom who has fun with them. It’s been on this trip that I have found that part of myself again. Being here, changes everything. I just hope I don’t lose it again when we head back to AZ. Being here reminds me of how the simple things in life, really are the best. Childhood should not be about watching sports on T.V. and playing video games. It should be about jumping in mud puddles, getting dirty and not caring. It should be about going on trail walks, awesome playgrounds, shooting guns, playing in tree houses, learning about nature, spending time with your grandparents and a little girl named BriBri who is like my little sister. Who I have known since she was 5 and she is now 17. I was so scared to see her. She loved you so much, Ro and you loved her even more. I didn’t even try to hide it. As soon as I saw her, I jumped on her and fell into her arms. I held her and got teary eyed. She didn’t have to say anything…. I know she is broken into a million pieces too. It was hard for me to see. I was always her older sister who was going to protect her from everything in the world. And now this. She has to watch me, go through the worst thing possible. I’m so sorry for that. Our sisterly time together was always spent talking about boys, colleges, high school, make-up, movies, and everything we did revolved around you 3 boys. Now it’s just 2 and it is so wrong that we don’t know what to do. I tried my best to ask her things about her life that are going on. I used to be able to give her the best sisterly advice. Now, I know nothing because there are no guarantees in life, except for death. I am not about to sit and talk to my innocent 17-year-old sissy about that. I used to be so much fun. I used to be “cool” to her. Now I’m just the sad mom who lost the most beautiful boy in the world. I’m the sad mom who fought for 8 months taking care of her cancer baby. I’m changed. I’m different. But the bond between us two girls will always be there. Once you love someone with all of your heart, nothing can stand in the way of that. We will find our place back together again. Baby steps. It’s just so hard because I know deep down, all we want to do is curl up together and cry. And that might have to happen at some point to just get it out there and acknowledge what has happened. The most awful thing in the world that makes people so uncomfortable and sad, that they would rather just not talk about it. I get it. I love you Boo. I will forever think of you as my little sister. I will promise to try to take care of you like I used to. I won’t let this too much reality, come between us. And you are 17 now! So crazy! You are so young, beautiful, and have your whole life in front of you. I know you are going to do amazing things. I hope I can guide you the best I am capable of. I miss that so much.

And today. 12.29.2011, it’s been 10 years. 10 years since I married my best friend. A relationship that started off on a crazy night. A relationship that I knew on our first date, that I was going to marry him. We bonded over late night dance parties to his juke box. Playing Zelda for sometimes weeks when we had off breaks from school. We were both night owls and loved to sleep in late. Our love for concerts and music. His, Pearl Jam. Mine, Prince. But I ended up converting over to Pearl Jam and became just as crazy for them as he was. We were two young kids, who were crazy for each other from the beginning. Here we are 10 years later. It seems like just yesterday that I married my Woo. We had such big plans for our 10 year. Tomorrow, I’ll be in an airport coming home late at night to him. Tomorrow, will just be another day. So it is tonight that I will tell him some things. And I know I don’t talk about him a lot on here and that is mostly because this is about my adventure with Ronan and my pain and sadness. Some things are too sacred to me still….. such as him. I also know that my husband is my best kept secret and I’d like to keep him that way. Could you imagine all the hussies that would try to go after him if they knew how amazing he really is??? I am not up for dealing with skanky bitches at the moment. Because if word got out, that a real life prince charming existed, I would be screwed. But he does. It is him. I married him. He is the best thing that has ever been mine. I’m not going to lie….. this has been super hard on both of us, individually. As a couple, we are still doing o.k. Not great, but that’s just because we are always so sad. But he still opens my car doors, he still kisses me goodnight, he still tells me I’m beautiful and he loves me. I’m the asshole. I’m the asshole who pushes away as I don’t think I’m worthy of feeling his love because I feel like everything is my fault. And he is the last person in the world who deserved any of this. I have a lot of guilt and anger that I am dealing with and sometimes I take it out on my easiest target, which is the person who loves me most. HIM. He is a saint. He is a gem. He is the truest, most honest, thoughtful, caring, brilliant, charming, and witty man on the planet. I sometimes take him for granted because I get stuck in my head that I can’t feel any of the things he so badly wants to give me again because you died, Ro. I hate that I have to admit all of this shit to you all. I wish I could tell you I am just as amazing as him, but I’m not. Not even close. I’m the asshole. And I’m so sorry Woody. I’m crazy about you. I love you so much. I am so sorry we had to lose our little boy. I’ll never stop telling you I’m sorry. But I’ll never stop telling you I love you either. I know we are fine. But fine is not good enough. I know we can get back to a somewhat happy life again because we started this together, crazy in love, and that’s never changed. Not even after going through something as awful as this.

O.k. Stopping now. I don’t want to completely mortify my husband who prefers to keep things a little more quiet and private. I’m an open book and I am so glad he is o.k. with that. He must really love me to put up with me and the shit I write on here:) I don’t think many husbands would tolerate that. So thank you Wood. For after 10 years of marriage, you still make me want to be a better person. Everyday. That’s how I knew you were the one for me when we first starting dating. You made me want to be the best version of myself that I could be. That is powerful stuff right there. You know it’s true when the other person can inspire such greatness in you. I love you to the moon and back. Again, I am so very sorry. I know how much you miss him too. I would give anything to bring him back to you. We are going to be o.k. I promise to try to not be such an asshole. I promise to try to start living the way Ronan would have wanted me to. But I know when the sadness comes, you will be there to hold my hand. I will try not to push you away so much. I love you Woo. I love you Ro. We both hope you are safe. We are both sorry. You were perfect to us. You were our everything to this entire family. We are trying, baby. The stakes are high, this waters rough, but this love is ours.

G’nite my spicy monkey boy. I love you.

xoxo