Loving Ro was Red

Ronan,

You are unequivocally everywhere, yet you are nowhere. My eyes still wander for you while making my morning coffee as a hummingbird appears outside my window. I still spend my days chasing glimpses of you in the grocery store as a little boy who looks to be about four years old crosses my path. I search for you in the impish eyes of Quinn, the stoicism of Liam, and the mischievous giggles from Poppy. I desperately beg for you to make an appearance in my dreams, but you never do. Instead, I find myself having the most vivid dreams about things like freeing the Orcas at SeaWorld, your old Oncologists, and situations in my life that feel very unresolved or out of control. My dreams are never about you, and I still don’t understand why when you are constantly on my mind. Last night I went to bed thinking about a phone call I received earlier in the day and the email that followed. Because the email was on my mind as I drifted off to sleep, I spent most of the night dreaming about our friend, Taylor Swift. I woke up the following day in disbelief at the reality of what had occurred the day before.

“A number I don’t recognize called my phone and left me a voicemail. From somebody named Tree. I don’t have any idea who that is.” I looked up at Mr. Sparkly Eyes, and yes, his eyes still sparkle. “My darling, call the number back.” This came from the man who answers every phone call from every unknown number that rings him up. “Ok. Maybe. I’ll call back in a bit; I’m going to look through my emails first to see if I was supposed to talk to someone that I have forgotten about.” He kissed the top of my head as I got up to get to the appointment I was running late for. I did a quick search in my emails, but nothing came up from anyone named Tree. Maybe it was a newly bereaved mom I was supposed to speak to? I’ve been doing a bit of that here and there for Dr. Jo, and a couple of them I hadn’t heard back from. I decided to call back the number from my car, and a woman’s voice answered the phone.

“Hi Tree, it’s Maya Thompson returning your call.”

“Maya! I’m so happy to hear from you; I wasn’t sure if this was still your number.”

My internal dialogue was running wild. Shit! This person knows me, yet I can’t place her. I decided to give it another few seconds to see if I could figure it out.

“It’s still my number; how are things?”

“Great! Taylor has an email she wants to send you, but before she sends it, I need to make sure your email address is still the same.”

Taylor. OMG. It’s Tree. As in Taylor’s everything, Tree. That Tree! I tried to keep my composure as if Taylor contacting me was a daily occurrence. We spoke for a few more minutes as she confirmed my email address, and we said goodbye.

I pulled my car over and called my everything, my New York City, Little Rachel. She picked up, which I was so thankful for because it was the middle of the day, and I knew she was more than likely having sessions with her patients.

“Taylor’s sending me an email,” I blurted out as soon as she picked up. “What?” She squealed with excitement. “What is happening over there?” I told her the back story, and we went over the endless possibilities of what the email could potentially say. I continued refreshing my emails, but nothing new had come through. We chatted giddily for a few more minutes, and I promised to call her as soon as I heard anything. I somehow made it to my destination safely, and as I pulled in, I checked my email.

Taylor’s email was there, but I won’t be sharing her entire email publicly. She is and will always be one of the things I hold dearest to my heart, and her beautiful words will remain private. I skimmed the email. Tears sprang to my eyes. I went back and reread her words, slowly this time as I tried to comprehend what I was reading.

Let’s back up for a bit. In 2019 it became public knowledge that Taylor was being screwed over in the worst way possible by Scott Borchetta of Big Machine Records and the disgusting Scooter Braun, who must be from the pits of hell. I watched from afar as her life’s work, her blood, sweat, and tears, were stolen from her by vile men because, at the end of the day, when you have an unscrupulous soul, greed is the ultimate decision-maker. You can read Taylor’s public letter below as the cliff notes to the unraveling of the painful betrayal.

“For years, I asked, pleaded for a chance to own my work. Instead, I was given an opportunity to sign back up to Big Machine Records and ‘earn’ one album back at a time, one for every new one I turned in. I walked away because I knew once I signed that contract, Scott Borchetta would sell the label, thereby selling me and my future. I had to make the excruciating choice to leave behind my past. Music I wrote on my bedroom floor and videos I dreamed up and paid for from the money I earned playing in bars, then clubs, then arenas, then stadiums.
Some fun facts about today’s news: I learned about Scooter Braun’s purchase of my masters as it was announced to the world. All I could think about was the incessant, manipulative bullying I’ve received at his hands for years.
Like when Kim Kardashian orchestrated an illegally recorded snippet of a phone call to be leaked and then Scooter got his two clients together to bully me online about it. Or when his client, Kanye West, organized a revenge porn music video which strips my body naked. Now Scooter has stripped me of my life’s work, that I wasn’t given an opportunity to buy. Essentially, my musical legacy is about to lie in the hands of someone who tried to dismantle it.
This is my worst-case scenario. This is what happens when you sign a deal at fifteen to someone for whom the term’ loyalty is clearly just a contractual concept. And when that man says, ‘Music has value’, he means its value is beholden to men who had no part in creating it.
When I left my masters in Scott’s hands, I made peace with the fact that eventually, he would sell them. Never in my worst nightmares did I imagine the buyer would be Scooter. Any time Scott Borchetta has heard the words’ Scooter Braun’ escape my lips, it was when I was either crying or trying not to. He knew what he was doing; they both did. Controlling a woman who didn’t want to be associated with them. In perpetuity. That means forever.
Thankfully, I am now signed to a label that believes I should own anything I create. Thankfully, I left my past in Scott’s hands and not my future. And hopefully, young artists or kids with musical dreams will read this and learn about how to better protect themselves in a negotiation. You deserve to own the art you make.
I will always be proud of my past work. But for a healthier option, Lover will be out August 23.”

Sad and grossed out,
💔
Taylor

I remember reading Taylor’s words and how nauseous I felt after. I had so many sleepless nights during the next few months. I worried about Taylor’s heart. I wondered what would happen to you. You are my life’s work. You are my blood, sweat, and tears, and now somebody other than Taylor “owned” you. I vented on my social media accounts about the unfairness of it all, not knowing if anyone was listening to what I was saying. There started to be chatter on the internet of Taylor re-recording all her old albums so she could own her OWN music again, which was such a bloody smart move. Taylor soon confirmed she was going to do so. I felt so proud of her upon hearing this news, and I let the happiness of that carry me through my grief of letting our song belong to people who didn’t deserve it. ‘Ronan’ was always going to be a charity single, never attached to an album of hers. In my mind, there was no way she was going to re-record it, and I understood why. Knowing that Taylor had taken the most horrific situation and had found a way to get her art back made my wounds hurt less. I was just thankful she had done the most incredible thing for us in the first place. That was more than enough. It was always going to be more than enough, and I had let go of wishing it could be any other way.

Now back to a part of her email that I received.

“I’ve recently completed the re-recording of my 4th album, Red. It’s really exceeded my expectations in so many ways, and one of those ways is that I thought it would be appropriate to add ‘Ronan’ to this album. Red was an album of heartbreak and healing, of rage and rawness, of tragedy and trauma, and of the loss of an imagined future alongside someone. I wrote Ronan while I was making Red and discovered your story as you so honestly and devastatingly told it. My genuine hope is that you’ll agree with me that this song should be included on this album. As my co-writer and the rightful owner of this story in its entirety, your opinion and approval of this idea really matters to me, and I’ll honor your wishes here.”

It took me an hour to absorb the words in front of me. I shared the news with your brothers, Poppy, your daddy, Mr. Sparkly eyes, and a couple of my dearest friends. I cried while sharing the news. I called Tree back and spoke to her for a few minutes about what had just occurred. I told her of course, Taylor had my permission to put ‘Ronan’ on Red. I tried my best to articulate how much this meant to me through my tears, but there are not enough words in the English language that will ever be able to appropriately convey my feelings about this. Taylor has anchored you to this world so you will never be lost, and now she has ensured you will forever be safe in a new, permanent home. She is once again giving a voice to the often voiceless, bereaved parents of the world as well as childhood cancer which deserves so much more funding than it gets.

“Red (Taylor’s version)” will be out November 19th and on that album, there will be you. It is the most perfect album for you to be on as it represents so much heartbreak, love, and pain.

I have so much more I want to talk about and so much more I want to write about, but I’m under a book writing deadline that I need to get back to.

I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe.

My dearest Taylor,

I love you.

My words of thank you will never be enough. Thank you for keeping Ronan safe. Thank you for never forgetting him. Thank you for breaking rules and breaking free. Thank you for that heart of yours that is made of pure gold. You are a constant source of inspiration to me in so many areas of my life, and there is nobody in the world I would rather have Ronan with than you. I’m going to write to you separately about this but for now, thank you.

The day you died, the day you were born and the day you died again because you were put in a urn. Happy should have been 7th birthday, my spicy Ro.

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Ronan.  I didn’t die from the fuckwad of May dates that I had to get through.  The day you died. Mother’s Day. Your birthday, which was also the day you were cremated. And the day we had your celebration of life aka a bullshit word I think I let everyone around me make up when it should have just been called “the most fucked up reason for a funeral” because that is how I really feel about it.  We went away for May.  It was as good of a trip as it could possibly be, despite the circumstances.  We went to New York and spent about a week out in the Hamptons with our dear friends who are pretty much the only reason I got through everything alright.  On the day you died, I didn’t sleep much.  I tossed and turned the night before and sent my same text that I send every single year around 3:20 in the morning to Mr. Sparkly Eyes because he was the first person I texted after you died and I’m weird with my rituals like that.  I said what I always say which is how I hope he never forgets how much you loved him.  How thankful I am for him and the role he played in your life and how I will never forget how above and beyond he went for you and continues to do so in this life now.  He called me a few hours later and I ran outside, barefoot so I could talk to him without waking up the entire house.

“Are you o.k.? That is a stupid question. I know you are not.”

I told him it was ok, that I was as o.k. as I could possibly be. I didn’t cry this year when he called for some reason.  I just let his words sink in and took his advice which was basically, “You don’t get to stay in bed today because that is not fair to Ronan or your other kids, so go out and do something.” I told him I would and I listened again as he told me how sorry he was.  I thanked him for calling and told him to please go and do something for you today, besides work.  He said that he would.

We spent the majority of the day, outside in the cooler temps by the ocean.  We played in the grass, rolled down hills, climbed to the top of a lighthouse, watched Poppy go to town picking flowers and ended the night by jumping in our freezing cold pool.  We were pretty much surrounded by friends the entire time we were in the Hamptons and it is because of this that our days and nights were actually filled with smiles and laughter.  Poppy kept everyone on their toes with her constant dancing to Pharrell Williams, “Happy.” A couple of years ago I know hearing this song would have thrown me right over the edge.  Now I am able to dance and sing to it and I know that is all because of her.  How can one not feel happy watching a one year old pump her little arms and rock back and forth on her chubby little legs to the beat of this song? Impossible even when you have an almost 4-year-old in an urn and kissing that goodnight is the closest you will ever get to kissing his little body again.

We spent your birthday in the city.  We started it off by grabbing pizza at your favorite place which is right by the Ronald McDonald House.  We then walked through the city a bit and went to see our good friend, Scott at Solving Kids’ Cancer.  Your daddy hadn’t met Scott before but they talk a lot on the phone.  I was beyond excited for the two of them to meet because 1)Scott is amazing and 2) They remind me a lot of each other. Of course they hit it off and seeing the two of them together made me smile on your beautiful day. I stepped out of our “meeting” and ran across the street to meet up with a favorite editor of mine in the literary world.  It was so good to hug her and catch her up on this book/life/fuck cancer/she couldn’t believe it was your 7th birthday.  She was so good about checking in with me to see that I was alright the entire time we were together. Our time together was so nice and I was so glad I got to introduce her to your daddy since he hears me talk about her so much.

After our impromptu meetings, we continued to do all your favorite things in the city.  Poppy took the streets by storm of course and I did my best to let her have a little freedom, while trying to keep her safe from getting run over by the crazy NYC taxis.  It was the first time in my life that I understood why those parents put their kids on leashes; because I totally wished I had one that day.  Instead, I chased your sister down the sidewalks as she took off without looking back at all and after a minute I would have to grab her from behind, pick her up to keep her out of harms way, all while she screamed bloody murder for me to put her down.  She seems to have turned a corner since turning one and I’m not sure there is any going back.  Miss Independent EXTRA spicy Poppy it is.  I, of course wouldn’t have it any other way.

We walked as much of the city as we could.  Stopped for a little pit stop in Central Park so Poppy could actually do some real running.  I plopped down in the grass, exhausted from a beyond mentally exhausting day.  Your brothers ran all about and your daddy took your sister to play on the playground while I stayed behind, laying in the grass and looking up at the sky.  After about 10 minutes, all the tears I had been holding back came pouring out and I just gave in and let them, not caring who would see.  My little, Rachel, came walking over soon after as she had been trying to find us in the park.  Just in time for me to bury my head in her lap while telling her, “I haven’t been very spicy today” as the snot dripped out of my nose and tears plopped out of my eyes and on to her jeans. She stroked my hair and said it was alright.  I cried for a few minutes more and then got up to decorate the most beautiful tree with a ton of your Ronan bracelets.  I had to do something spicy, so I climbed up the tree and sat there for a bit.  I can’t remember the last time I’ve climbed a tree and I wonder why.  It was lovely up there and so something you would have done.  At this time, it was getting dark so we parted ways with Rachel and ended up back at your favorite pizza place, one last time.  We had one last thing to do which was our random act of kindness so we bought a ton of gift cards at the pharmacy next door and I took your brothers and marched my little butt right back into that Ronald McDonald House where we spent so much time.  I told them I wanted to drop them off to give out to the family’s that were staying there.  I had a flashback of you in the lobby there, right when we arrived and you were wearing your cute little warm hat, standing on the luggage carrier giving me the biggest smile as if you trusted me with your life because you knew I was going to get you better and fix all of this.  I’ll never forget the look in your eyes as they sparkled so bright and were full of such hope, trust and love.  I’m so sorry that you will never get to be 7 and instead you will be always almost 4. I’m so fucking sorry.

Ending this now with some words I read a while ago and I like to read them again when everything seems to be lost in the world, but I know it’s not because once upon a time, you were mine and I was yours.  You always will be mine, even if you are not here but somewhere else where I know I will see you again.  I wish knowing that made things hurt less, Ronan.  Sometimes this pain is all too much.

I miss you.  I love you.  I hope you are safe.

On this day, you read something that moved you and made you realise there were no more fears to fear. No tears to cry. No head to hang in shame. That every time you thought you’d offended someone, it was all just in your head and really, they love you with all their heart and nothing will ever change that. That everyone and everything lives on inside you. That that doesn’t make any of it any less real.

That soft touches will change you and stay with you longer than hard ones.

That being alone means you’re free. That old lovers miss you and new lovers want you and the one you’re with is the one you’re meant to be with. That the tingles running down your arms are angel feathers and they whisper in your ear, constantly, if you choose to hear them. That everything you want to happen, will happen, if you decide you want it enough. That every time you think a sad thought, you can think a happy one instead.

That you control that completely.

That the people who make you laugh are more beautiful than beautiful people. That you laugh more than you cry. That crying is good for you. That the people you hate wish you would stop and you do too.

That your friends are reflections of the best parts of you. That you are more than the sum total of the things you know and how you react to them. That dancing is sometimes more important than listening to the music.

That the most embarrassing, awkward moments of your life are only remembered by you and no one else. That no one judges you when you walk into a room and all they really want to know, is if you’re judging them. That what you make and what you do with your time is more important than you’ll ever fathom and should be treated as such. That the difference between a job and art is passion. That neither defines who you are. That talking to strangers is how you make friends.

That bad days end but a smile can go around the world. That life contradicts itself, constantly. That’s why it’s worth living.

That the difference between pain and love is time. That love is only as real as you want it to be. That if you feel good, you look good but it doesn’t always work the other way around.

That the sun will rise each day and it’s up to you each day if you match it. That nothing matters up until this point. That what you decide now, in this moment, will change the future. Forever.

That rain is beautiful.

And so are you.

 

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The Eye of the Storm

 

 

 

Ronan. I am in the eye of the storm. The month of hell. You are working really, really hard, to make sure I survive this. You have been working so hard, that I can hardly keep up with all of the amazing things that have been going on. This week has been a blur. Between finishing my 30 day hiking challenge, working on some things for your foundation, preparing for our trip, a couple of amazing dinners about some ideas that I would like to see happen, getting ready for your birthday at PCH… I don’t even know what day it is. That is probably a good thing for today. I would not have made it through the week if I had been sitting around, thinking about where we were, last year at this time. I know where we were. I had 5 days left with you. Just 5 days. And tomorrow it will be four. I still don’t know how this can be, but it is. This is just the way it is and there is nothing I can do, to change it.

I had one of the best nights I’ve had in a really, really, long time the other night. You just happened to make sure your Fairy RoMo, got dropped in my lap at the beginning of the month of hell. How in the world did you pull that one off? I don’t know, but the stars aligned and the next thing I knew, your Fairy RoMo just landed in my lap. It just happened to be on the night of Rita’s birthday, too. The two of us met up with your Fairy RoMo at some Hotel that seemed to not have a name because it was as if we were somewhere completely else, not 10 minutes away from our house. We sat outside, under the stars and got lost in the night. We talked, laughed, cried, and worked on our evil little plans to take over the world, while curing childhood cancer and traveling to Iceland. I watched them, watch me. I watched the way they looked so so sad, yet both of their eyes sparkled in the night whenever we talked about you. I listened to the most beautiful story about a purple balloon that was let go in Central Park for you. I started to cry during this story. Not only out of sadness but also out of love. The sadness and love of the story that was told was one of the most beautiful things I have heard since losing you. I watched my friends as they looked at me and said, “You have to stay here. You promised.” I told them I knew. I remind myself of the promise I made 50 times a day to keep me going. After a very late night of lots of Roplans I came home exhausted but I felt peaceful. Being in the presence of those two very special souls heals little pieces of my heart. They leave me feeling inspired and my soul awakened. I know they are both gifts from you. It was because of them, that I made it through that May day.

Now it is a new May Day. May 6th. 3 more days. 3 more days is all I had left of you, at this time, last year. I had to get out of Phoenix. We left today. Left to go far, far away but it will never be far enough. This is not a vacation. This is a get me the fuck out of Phoenix for the day that he died/his birthday. Vacations will never exist in my world again. We made it to our destination and I hate the reason that we are here. But all I can continue to do is to continue to fight upstream in this never-ending battle of a current that wants me to drown. It is a constant never ending battle and on days like today, I get really tired. Days like today that consist of long airplane rides with a little 5-year-old stranger that sits right across from you in the aisle of the airplane. I wanted to say to his mom, “Hey! I have a 5-year-old too! He is right next to me. Maybe our two little boys could play together on this very long, very boring, flight to hell. Wait? You are not going to hell? I am. Because my 5-year-old is dead. So I don’t get to have him here anymore. But so nice meeting you! Have a great vacation!”

I didn’t get to say any of those things. I sat on the airplane with Quinn instead and did not even cry. I felt numb. Yeah. I scooped out some of your ashes this morning before we left. And guess what. I didn’t even cry doing this. How is that possible? Because I am that strong? No. It has nothing to do with strength. It has everything to do with this being so unreal to me, that it is not real. I often leave my body when I have to do things like this. I leave my own body a lot and I swear I float above, watching the girl below scoop out her child’s ashes of his urn while not crying. Sometimes it’s the only way to get through this. I don’t know how I’m going to survive these next days coming up but what choice do I have? Your brothers are happy. Your brothers are excited. I am trying my hardest to act happy and excited too, Ronan. But everything is screaming that this is all so wrong. Everything is screaming to get me as far away from this fucked up world as possible because there is nothing right about any of this.

This is all for tonight, baby doll. This is all I can do. I’m so sorry. I love you. I miss you. I hope you are safe.

xoxo

New York Miss Macy takes on Coronado!!! Watch out Navy Seal boys!

Ronan. I’m trying to remain calm and quiet tonight. Today was hard. WTF is going on? I thought things were supposed to be getting easier as time goes on. Time heals all wounds. Who is the dumb ass that made that up? All time is doing is taking me further and further away from you and this time I had with you on this earth. It just makes me miss you more. I don’t even really remember today, except it was another one of those longest days ever. I woke up late with Liam and Quinn. Made them breakfast, talked to you Daddy about some things, cried, all while Quinn sat and wouldn’t leave my side. UGH. You know how much I love your brother, but sometimes, I just need my space whether it be when I’m on a phone call or just trying to freaking go pee. Your brother refuses to leave my side. This breaks my heart, as I know the reason why and I tried to calmly talk to him about privacy today as he grabbed my phone to read a text message out loud that Macy had sent me. Little eyes! I handled the situation appropriately I guess, but I think he got his feelings hurt. After spending the past 3 days with your brothers, I’ll bet you Quinn has been away from me for maybe 10 minutes. I love how much he loves me. It’s as if he is trying to give me a double overload of love because you are gone and he knows I need it and he needs it too. But fuck. I do need my space every once in a while. Thank GOD for NY Miss Macy arriving tomorrow. Not only am I in desperate need of how she makes me laugh like no other, but she can take some of the pressure from this Quinn situation. Mama needs a break and a very long run to get out some of this restlessness.

Today, simply just sucked. Bad day. Bad headache. Bad mood. Bad everything. You know you are going to have a bad day when you wake up to the ocean and sun shinning and you feel pissed off. Liam and Quinn were still tired from yesterday and last night. We attempted to go down to the beach and pool for a while, but they were soon board as none of us were feeling it. Liam was tired, Quinn was tired, and my headache was out of control. We came back upstairs so I could make them lunch. I knew it was going to be one of those lazy bum beach days. Liam plopped himself in front of the T.V. and Quinn said he wanted to take a nap and wanted me to lay down with him. I couldn’t tell him no. We snuggled up in bed together and he grabbed my hand to hold while he fell asleep. I just watched him and tried not to cry. Remember our naps together? Almost everyday we would take one, it was part of our little routine. I loved those napping days together so much. I dozed off with Quinn but my sleep was restless as it always is, especially without my Ambien. I don’t think it would be such a good idea to take that stuff in the middle of the day. I wrestled with my sleep, tried to be peaceful, but woke up angry at everything still. Quinn slept for a few hours. He was beat. I got up and took out my aggression on the laundry, dishes, and cleaning.

After Quinn woke up, we got ready and decided to go out to dinner. We went to Old Town for some Mexican Food. I shared Carnita’s with Quinn and Liam ate a huge thing of chicken nuggets and the homemade tortillas that they make at the restaurant. He of course, dipped them in his ketchup. Your brother and his eating habits…. I swear he could live off of ketchup alone. It was a nice dinner but as always it was a big reminder that you are not here. We used to take you to that restaurant all of the time and it was as if there was a video playing inside my head of the last time we had been there with you. It was all I could focus on as I tried to hold a conversation with Liam and Quinn. I did my best.

It has not even been 2 months since you left me and already I can feel myself panicking about what I am going to do in August when your brothers go back to school. I am now panicking even more because your daddy brought it up today. He knows I will go crazy if I don’t have something to stay focused on. You were my soul focus for 4 years. Now what, Ro? I am scared to death as I don’t have a plan at all. I like a plan so much but a part of me wants to rebel against this “plan,” and just see what comes my way. Fuck the plan of life because I now know there are never any guarantees if you do have one. I had a plan with you. It was the most perfect plan and now look. I’m left alone, in a house, without you to take care of, while your brothers go back to school. I know I will figure something out, I have to. Otherwise, I know I will end up seriously doing something crazy like barricading myself in your room and never coming out.

I talked to my Bryson friend via text messaging tonight. Your spirits are so similar. He loves Star Wars, just like you. He is really passionate about living his life full of fun; just as you were. He has crazy pictures on his FB wall of the skiing he does, jumping off cliffs, etc….. That is so how you would have been. Nothing in life would have stopped you and I know you would have been extra fearless especially when it came to things like skiing, surfing, cliff diving, etc….. It was just something you were born with. Bryson is this way too. The more I learn about him, the more I am finding out how much alike you really are. I don’t know what this means, but I am intrigued. He is a very sweet boy. He told me he thinks we met so he could help me heal. I just told him that is a big job for such a young kid. Way too much for him to take on. He has already helped me by what he did for me on the airplane. Sitting alone without you for the first time…. I very well could have lost it. He distracted me and let me tell him the beautiful story about you. I am so thankful for that. That first flight was going to be hard on me.

I’ll smile tonight thinking about how you used to always say, “Mama.” and I would go, “Yes.” and you would say, “You’re cute.” and I would go, “You’re the cutest!” and then we would start our wrestling tickle party telling each other that the other one was cuter. I loved that so much. It was so fun to be so silly with you. So simple.
Alright my baby. You know our conversation that we had tonight? The one where I stare at the pic of you on your iPad and I swear you are staring back at me. I kiss you and whisper what I need you to do, which is take me with you. I told you to tell whoever it is upstairs, that I need to be up there with you. I am you mom. I am the one who is supposed to be taking care of you! I am fine with leaving here. You make them make it happen for me, Ro. We belong together. Just you and me. Just like we always said. I know you can hear me. Make it happen because I can’t take this much longer. Ambien is kicking in. I miss you so much and although I still had so much to say tonight….I’m tired. I love you so much. I hope you are safe.

xoxo

Where’s Macy??? Where’s Ro????