It’s almost Halloween and I would still let you be anything if you were still here

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Ronan. Last week, I got to see the magic that Alexander has put together with the SpiritHoods video. He’s been working like mad on it, and keeping me so very in the loop. When the link finally came through the short version, the one that will air on their website, I took a deep breath as I sat down to watch it. I put Poppy on my lap and she watched with me. The tears were almost immediate. It is 5 minutes of absolute perfection, absolute heartbreak, absolute beauty, and absolute truth. I am so proud and so thankful for people like Alexander who have come into our life. The moment I set eyes on him, I knew he was the perfect person for the job of telling our story in a documentary type of way. I felt so comfortable with him and an immediate connection. I wasn’t wrong. Not only does Alexander feel like a long lost brother to me, it turns out he is insanely talented and I could not be more proud of what it is we have done together. Oh, and he also happens to have a totally kick ass wife who I am equally as in love with. I cannot wait for you all to see this, and then to watch as you all buy up the SpiritHoods like crazy. They turned out so adorable and only Ronan being here to rock it, would make it even better than it already is. I AM SO PROUD.

Last week was an insane week and with foundation stuff pretty much happening around the clock, I knew I needed a small break. Or, more like your daddy knew and pretty much told Dr. Jo that I was coming up to Sedona on Sunday to spend some time with her and do a little eco therapy. I drove up with your Poppy sister in tow. We arrived late on Saturday night and woke up in the morning, ready for to go on a hike through the beauty of Sedona. On our hike, we got into my much needed therapy. We talked about where I am in my grief process and I told her all about my hard week last week where I spent many days, THINKING about doing things like driving off a cliff. I still have those thoughts, although they happen less often. Our little hike turned into a 5 hour massive hike with your Poppy sister on the front of me. We only stopped one time to feed her and let her stretch out. The rest of the time the only sounds we heard from her were the sounds of her coos and giggles. That baby, I tell ya. She is amazingly special. I’ve never known a baby that would go on a 5 hours hike and be happy as a clam the entire time. She is such a sweet, sweet girl. Most of the hike, we talked about this whole grief thing. I told her how I constantly feel like a bunny rabbit, digging a never ending hole, and trying to fill the hole with “stuff” when I know the hole is never going to be filled again. It’s that taste of happiness that I had with you that I so badly want again, but no matter how beautiful this life is, I’ll never get back the happiness that is missing; that being you. I have learned to love my grief, for even as painful as it is, it keeps me connected to you. So, when I am not spending enough time nurturing and sitting quietly with my grief, that is when I tend to get into a bit of trouble, emotionally speaking. Some people want to run away from their grief, but there is no out running this. Your grief will always catch up to you and never gets tired of chasing you. I don’t want to outrun this, but the fact of the matter is, it does become heavy to carry and sometimes hard to manage. That’s when I have to check in with myself and do things like a 5 hour hike with Dr. JoRo. Things like that, help me with all of this.

I have so much going on around here that I don’t even know which way is up anymore. After dropping your brothers off at school in the mornings, I have been making myself take your Poppy sister up our mountain. I know that in order to be productive during my day, I do need to take a little Mama/Ronan time out. This morning I had Poppy on my front and your backpack on my back like I do every time I hike. You know that little backpack from Pottery Barn Kids with your name embroidered on the back of it. As I was coming down, a man passed me. He said, “Is that your son’s name, Ronan?” I was caught a little off guard and but managed to nod my head and give him a smile. He said, “That’s my son’s name, too! He’s 7.” The only thing I could say was, “It’s a great name.” What I really wanted to say is, “You are so lucky to have a 7-year-old Ronan.” I hiked the rest of the way down, feeling sad and trying to imagine what it must be like to have a 7-year-old Ronan, too. That pretty much threw me off for the rest of the day, but somehow I still managed to be productive around here.

Halloween is approaching. Is it really another Halloween without you? I would still let you be anything, if you were still here. Your brothers are all excited and I took them “Booing” the other night with some of their friends. It hurt to be doing such fun/funny things without you. Poppy seems pretty excited about Halloween, too. Today, she asked me to take a pumpkin, carve out the top and some slots for her legs so I could stick her in the pumpkin and take a picture. O.k… so maybe she  didn’t ask me, but that’s totally what I did to her. She loved it for about 30 seconds, then when she realized she was naked in a pumpkin, she got pretty mad at me. I took her out once she started to protest, but I did manage to get some great pictures out of the Poppy the Pumpkin photo session. It was kind of the cutest thing ever.

Alright little man. I have to sign off for the night. Time for my late night book writing session to begin. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe.

xoxo

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G’nite Halloween. Thank you for being over.

Ronan. This is my second Halloween without you. I survived. I woke up today, feeling alright. I went to my office and got a lot of things done. Most everybody came dressed up in a costume. They had me chuckling most of the morning with their creativity and fun. It felt really good to be able to laugh this morning and I thought I was going to be o.k. After getting so much stuff done that I thought my head was going to explode, I snuck out of the office to go run some errands. I was on a mission to find white face paint for Quinn and was having a hard time tracking it down. After about 3 stops later, mission white face paint was a success. I ran to see your Mr. Sparkly Eyes and bring him a coffee. As soon as I pulled into the parking lot, my eyes started to water and the tears started falling. I kept hearing Taylor’s song play over and over in my head again. “And its about to be Halloween
You could be anything you wanted if you were still here.” I started thinking about our last Halloween together and then my mind started worrying about you, like I always do so much. Where are you? Who is taking care of you? What are you doing? Do you know how much I miss you? I know you miss me just as much. Why did you have to be taken away? I looked at myself in the mirror and wiped my eyes, took a deep breath, grabbed your Sparkly’s coffee and apple and headed inside.

I sat down and waited. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. No crying today. Soon, your Sparkly appeared and sat down next to me. “Hi. Are you o.k.?” he asked. I just got up and wrapped my arms around him while I avoided his eyes. I sat back down and the flood of tears came next. “Hey, it’s o.k. it’s just another day. I know, it was his favorite day. I know it’s hard today, but you will get though it like you get through everything else.” I didn’t really say much. I couldn’t because I couldn’t even breathe. I just sat and wiped away my tears for a few minutes. “I have to feed Poppy. She is a vegetarian.” I broke out the apple I brought for him and my little veggie snack pack for your Poppy. I sat and we ate while catching up on some things. I guess at one point he had me laughing which I didn’t even notice, but our Sparkly told me it was nice to see me smile. I still don’t smile as much as I used to. I miss it sometimes. The rest of our conversation floated back and forth between you and Poppy. He also told me he thinks I should have about 3 more kids after this one. I told him he was crazy and that being pregnant was not good for my mental state of mind. He said he didn’t think anything was good for my mental state of mind because how could it ever be after going through something like this. Exactly. Nothing will fix this, Poppy included. But we all know that she will bring a little piece of you back and the little bit of happiness that is missing from our lives. We all need her. Your Sparkly included. I left your Sparkly and he told me to just do my best today, to get through tonight, and go to bed. I told him I would indeed do my best, for Liam and Quinn’s sake. That is just what I did.

I picked your brothers up from school. I was exhausted and all I wanted to do was shut my door, take a bunch of sleeping pills and never wake up again. I let my mind go there for about 5 seconds and knew that was of course, not an option. Instead, I got your brothers all ready for the night. I sat Quinn down and painted his face for his KISS costume. Apparently, I have missed my one of my other many callings in life which is a make-up artist. His face turned out awesome and he was so excited. We headed out to our dear friends, The Willets for some trick or treating. The place where we last took you. It was hard. Everything about today and tonight was hard as I imagine it always will be. This might be the hardest holiday to try to celebrate, without you. Your daddy and I somehow survived. We are both so thankful for good friends. We are both so glad to be home and in bed. Your brothers had a great time and that is all I could ask of for tonight. It is all I wanted besides you back with us all. I’m so sorry, Ro. I hate that we are apart more than anything in the world. Every 4-year-old was out tonight. They were everywhere, but you were nowhere to be found. I will never understand any of this.

This is all I can write tonight as I can hardly keep my eyes open. I did have an ultrasound yesterday. Poppy is still a Poppy. I am so thankful for that. I really think having another little boy, would have been so hard for me. I know I would have loved him so much, but the reminders of everything you… another little boy who wasn’t you, mentally would have been tough to deal with. A little girl is something so different. Something I have never experienced. I am really, really thankful you made her a girl. Thanks, Ro baby. I love you so much. I miss you so much. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, baby doll.

xoxo

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Oh, Hey Cancer! Fuck you! Seems like an appropriate title tonight.

Ronan. Your daddy left for Vegas. This means I get to hold down the fort while he is away. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem in the pre Ronan is not dead days. Now, doing things like keeping your brothers entertained on their fall break, solo, is hard fucking work. Don’t get me wrong, they are easy boys. And if you were here, I have no doubt we would be off doing things like going to the Pumpkin Patch, shopping for Halloween costumes, and having lots of adventures. You know what is right around the corner. Your most favorite holiday. Halloween. It used to be my favorite holiday, too. Now it just makes me extremely sad. Last year, I dressed up like a dead zombie because that is how I felt. This year, I’m not feeling like doing anything except burying myself in a big hole in our backyard. I have not carved pumpkins with your brothers yet, or gotten their Halloween costumes. We have been talking about what they want to be. Of course I always wonder what you would have been. In my mind, you would have been a different Star Wars character every year for the rest of your life. I don’t think you would have grown out of your Star Wars phase just quite yet.

Today, Liam and Quinn’s fall break consisted of therapy. It was Liam’s day to be with Dr. Rachel. It’s been a while since he has seen her. I went in and talked to her before hand. I told her that I have been having to talk about your last days a lot, with everything that I have been doing. I told her I was worried because we had not really talked about it in depth with your brothers. We agreed that she would dig deep today, without pushing Liam too much. I waited in the waiting room with Quinn. My mind was racing and of course my heart was breaking thinking of the conversation that was taking place in the next room. What a great way to spend fall break, huh. Liam came out after an hour, his little eyes all red. I got up and left him out in the waiting room with Quinn while I went to talk to Dr. Rachel about how the session went. I listened to her tell me how Liam talked very openly about the sadness he feels over losing you. How during the time when you were dying he told himself to be a good brother, to be brave, to be strong, and how he wanted to be somewhere else. He told Dr. Rachel he told you the same things. He cried a lot when talking about all of those things. She told me he has a higher emotional intelligence than most kids his age. How well he was able to verbalize everything that he was feeling. I wiped away my tears while listening to this. I felt like punching the wall and screaming, “WHY THE FUCK DID THIS HAVE TO HAPPEN?!! TO THE BEST BIG BROTHERS IN THE WORLD?!!!” I got up and told Dr. Rachel thank you. We decided that it was best for now to let Liam talk about these things in his safe space with Dr. Rachel. I asked Liam in the car if he wanted to talk about anything. He told me he did not, so I left it at that. I am just thankful that he is opening up to someone.

I picked up a friend of your brothers so we could have a play date. I took them over to The Village to play basketball, football and swim. I was sitting outside, under the shade of course with my dark sunglasses on because I have developed an allergy to the sun called, “I fucking hate you.” I was watching your brothers and their friend swim. I was trying not to get too sad that there were 3 boys in the pool and one of them wasn’t you. Just as I was sitting there, a little hummingbird came flying right up to my face. It stayed there for a few seconds. I smiled. I thought of you of course because little hummingbirds don’t happen often in my life, but when they do it is always when something really important or sad has happened and I need a little sign that you are around. 3 minutes later, my Twitter alert went off. Somebody had tweeted me that our friend, Super Ty had passed away. My stomach dropped to the floor. I sat there for a few minutes. I didn’t cry right away. I thought about the hummingbird and how that was your way of telling me you were going to take care of Ty now. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks as I watched your brothers laugh, splash and play. I sent your Sparkly a text about Ty because he knows how he was our roommate at Sloan. I told him that he had passed away and how cruel life was. I told him about the hummingbird too and how I knew it was a sign from you and how you would now watch over Ty forever. He told me that he knew that you would, too. My tears didn’t stop for a few minutes. I’m so sorry to Ty’s mama, daddy, little brother and to all who knew and loved him. I’m so sorry to Ty. Will this cruel world ever get better, Ronan? How many kids is it going to take, before people start paying attention to the point where everyone finally says, enough is enough? When is this sick cycle of kids dying over and over and over from cancer going to end? When are people going to stop looking away because it can’t happen to their child, right? I know I am making a lot of headway with everything we are doing, but some days I feel like how long is this going to fucking take? And what is it going to take for everyone to wake up and join in this fight with me? Am I going to have to organize a freaking protest or something? When will our government really step up to the plate and what can I do to make this happen? Somebody get me on the phone with Obama. Seriously. Too many parents are losing kids. Too many kids that are still here, will suffer for the rest of their lives. They deserve to stop being overlooked. They deserve better treatments and options. I don’t want another mom to have to sit down with their other children and let them look at the ashes of their dead brothers body. I am beyond heartbroken and if things continue to stay this way, I just don’t know what I will do. Really, how hard do I have to fight? I feel as though it is all I am doing, 24 hours a day. Will things ever get better? If my post seems hopeless tonight, it’s just because I am so very sad over Ty, Ronan. I hope you two are both playing together in your super hero capes. Take good care of him sweet boy. It shouldn’t be this way.

I’m going to end this here. Your brothers had a good day. I tried my best but as always I carry so much sadness around in everything I do. I miss you so much. G’nite Ro baby. Sweet dreams. I love you to the moon and back. I hope you are safe.

xoxo

P.S. Hey Cancer. Fuck you.

The Silver Lining in the Clouds. I Wonder What it’s All About.

Ro baby. I haven’t been avoiding you. But I’ll admit it. For the first time ever, since starting this blog…..I’m scared. Scared because of the weakness that I gave into. Scared because I’m NOT as strong as everyone is always telling me I am. Scared because of the many days that I don’t think I can survive this. Scared because of the reality that I had to wake up to, after truly trying not to survive this because the pain is sometimes just too much. Scared because I came closer to the dark side than I ever have, and it was so easy to do. Just like that. No thought. Only impulse. Consumed by the pain of my reality, that you are never coming back. NEVER. I know I talk about you dying all the time, but do you want to know the truth? I still think in my heart of hearts, that you are going to come home again. That your Daddy is going to one day, walk through that door, carrying you in his arms. That is how delusional I am. This is how deeply I just cannot wrap my head around the fact that you are never coming back. I cannot accept your death. I cannot accept our pain. I cannot accept our life, without you. I just want you back. I want you back, so badly that I feel like it should so easily be able to happen. This is how my delusional mind works now. Nothing is real, so your death can’t possibly be real, right?

I told Dr. JoRo that so many nights, when I’m out running, all I think about is some van pulling up next to me, grabbing me and pulling me inside of it. Do you know what I see in that van? A bunch of men in white coats and masks. They are holding you and you are alive. They explain to me that you really are not dead. I see your face, your smile, your tears of joy because you are back in my arms, where you belong. These men tell me that this was just an experiment to see how strong a mama’s love, really is. To see how much pain a mama could handle, before she could handle no more and did something really crazy. Like the skydiving I am planning to do on Thanksgiving. I’m just trying to decide if it will be with or without a parachute. If you would have asked me last weekend, I would have said without a parachute. If you ask me tonight, I would say with one, please. Dr. JoRo and I joked about this tonight. The skydiving thing. We laughed as she said I should throw a turkey out of the plane before I jump. Then our dark sense of humor took over as we giggled about the headlines of the news that day. “Runner killed by a flying turkey, on Thanksgiving Day.” And they said turkeys couldn’t fucking fly. Oh, how wrong they were about that.

So, Ro. After the weekend of the dark side…. it was very highly recommended that I go to Sedona on Monday, to see Dr. Jo. I drove up there, happy to do so. I like that time alone in the car, driving to the place that makes me feel a little peaceful. I had a lot of people offer to drive me but I politely said no thank you. I needed to clear my head, before I bared my soul. I was greeted by Dr. Jo, like always except for her hug was a little tighter this time and I had to listen to her apologize for being out-of-town, for work, during my little crises. Nonsense I told her. It wouldn’t have mattered. I knew that we were in for a long session, to figure out what lead up to this. Besides the obvious.

We talked about my week. Shit. I had a lot of shitty shit shit, happen. Too much shit that I wasn’t even aware of, because I had let everything build up and roll off my back. Trying to be the Superwoman, that I so am NOT. I need to remember this, more often. And Halloween. I was not prepared for how hard it was going to be, but I had tried all week to prepare myself for the worst. Our favorite holiday, without you. NO. All of your “friends,” dressing up in their costumes. NO. Thinking about what we would be doing, if you were here, like you should be. What would you have worn? I spent most of the week thinking about not being able to dress you up. I spent most of the week, crying about it. I went to PCH to help Sandra. I ran into a girl there who used to work at the front desk of the clinic. “How’s your baby!?” She said. “My baby?” I replied, puzzled. Do I have a baby?? I couldn’t remember. I said, “You mean Ronan?” She said, “Yes, I haven’t seen you guys in a while.” I must have looked like a deer in headlights. “Oh. He passed away.” I said as the tears formed puddles at my feet. She felt so bad. She hugged me and told me how sorry she was, that she hadn’t heard as she had been out on maternity leave. I told her thank you. I asked how her baby was and did my best to get myself under control. I had to put on my best game face so I could go and try to help my friend. I did an o.k. job. Helping out Sandra, is one of the few things that makes me feel o.k. in life. It reminds me of why it is that I am going to keep fighting this fight when there are so many days that I do not want to anymore. Seeing the way cancer has destroyed Mia’s little body and robbed her of her childhood pisses me off so badly and it is exactly the kick in the ass I need to carry the fuck on. Or so I thought, but it didn’t save me during my weekend of death.

Back to my Dr. JoRo session. It was long. Grueling. We made a plan because I cannot have another weekend like last weekend. My plan does not include any sort of hospitalization. Sorry to all of you out there, who think you know best. You don’t have a fucking clue. I know you mean well, I know you care, but please don’t act like you truly knows what this feels like for me so therefor, you know what is best for me. Because you don’t And I hope to RO, that you never do. I do not need to be in an institution. That is not the answer. What would that solve? My safety? No. A hospital cannot save me. Dr. Jo cannot save me. My husband cannot save me. My living children, cannot save me. Only, I, myself, or the self I have left, can save me. ME. ME. ME. ME. Not you. Not my friends. Ronan? Yes. Of course, Ronan. Can you bring him back to me? That is the only thing that would 100% guarantee that I will be able to survive this life. I know I have to keep going, but sometimes I just want a break from all of this pain, this life, these tears, this heartbreak. I have to find that break, without breaking myself and everyone around me. I am thinking of trying out for a fucking roller derby team. I’m thinking I had my little break over the weekend and it was the wake up call I needed. I think I need to figure a lot of things out, so I can start to put myself back together again. I think I need to start letting my husband back in a little more and stop pushing him away so much. I think I cannot do this alone, like I have tried so hard to do. I think this life is totally fucked but it is my life to live now. I think I’d better start figuring out how to do that, sooner, rather than later.

Dr. JoRo is checking in with me everyday. Your Daddy and I went to her support group last night. Together. It was the first time we have done something like that, the two of us. I tried to tell him he didn’t need to come, that I could do it alone. He insisted. I am so glad he did. I arrived first. I sat down, in my chair and immediately felt myself retreating into my dark, alone place that I often tend to go when put into a new group setting. The room soon filled with other parents, all there for the same reason as me. Because we all belong to the same fucking club. The club I like to call My kid fucking died and I don’t want to be here anymore club. The worst club to be a part of in life. Dr. Jo was leading the group which is the only reason I went. She arrived and things got started. Everyone took turns going around to tell their story. It was almost my turn to talk about you. Your Daddy walked into the room, late and sat down next to me but not before kissing my lips. I just looked at him and buried my head into his chest. I couldn’t talk last night so he talked for me. He told a little piece of our story, to this room full of sad strangers. I hid my face in the side of his neck. Dr. Jo asked if I wanted to say something. I told her No. I couldn’t stop crying. I told her I didn’t want to be there. She said she knew. I stayed though. We stayed. Together. For as bad as it felt, it felt good too. The group lasted 2 hours. It was full of so many different people. Young, old, black, white, Believers and Non Believers…. once again I am reminded that death does not discriminate. It can happen to anyone. Everyone is at risk of losing a child. No matter what choices you make in life. Good or bad. It doesn’t fucking matter. After the group broke up, we talked with Dr. Jo for a bit. I was so glad to introduce your Daddy to her, and vise versa. It was like watching 2 parts of my soul, connect. It was magical. Your Daddy talked to some other parents. I sat with Dr. JoRo and watched him. She looked at me and goes, “He has quite a presence, doesn’t he.” I looked at her and told her I knew. He’s always been that way. I am so fucking lucky to have him. I am so fucking lucky and thankful that he loves me so much, that he is willing to put up with me and all of my craziness. That when push comes to shove, he’s not leaving. Ever. And how I love to push buttons. I think it was Sunday night that your Daddy grabbed me and told me enough was enough. That I needed to stop because no matter what I did or what hurtful things I said, he’s not going to walk out on me, the way that my dad did. That when he married me, it was forever so the self-destruction that I am engaging in, needs to stop because he’s not going anywhere. His words slapped me hard. His words shook me to the core. Sometimes I need to shut the fuck up and just listen to him. I did on Sunday. I need to do it more often. The truth of the matter is, we are in this, together. Forever. He lost you too. He can’t lose me as well. I won’t do that to him. You loved him too much. I love him too much. My grief often blinds me of this. I needed the little wake up call I had over the weekend. It had to happen for me to realize a lot of things that I have been forgetting.

After our support group last night, your Daddy and I had a late dinner out. It was the first time, in so long, that we have went out, just the two of us. We sat at Hillstone, in a cozy booth, and tried to act like the normal couple that we no longer are. The normal couple that I would give anything to be again. The normal couple that we used to be that felt so blessed and thankful and proud of the life we had created which revolved around us and the three of you. We shared the artichoke dip and a burger. We talked quietly but I was soon distracted by the early 40 something couple who was sitting in front of us, making out and feeding each other apple pie. I started stabbing my burger with my very sharp knife, over and over again. “Really people. WTF. Who is THAT happy? At 40? They are either having an affair, or they are having an affair. Nobody is that happy. I think I am going to throw this burger, across the room at their table.” Your daddy looked panicked as he now thinks I am so out of my mind, that I may actually do it. He grabbed my hand. “Stop stabbing your burger. Calm down.” But I didn’t want to calm down. I wanted to really chuck my burger across the table at them. And I wanted to tell them how I used to be that happy, until you died. But I think it is gross to make out in public and that they needed to get a room. And feed each other apple pie, elsewhere so I didn’t have to stab their eyes out with my knife. Your Daddy and I got up and left there, holding hands, as it was the best we could do. We are doing the best we can do, which at this point only seems to be surviving. But surviving together.

I started writing to you last night. I couldn’t finish it. I was so tired that I fell into a deep sleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. Your Daddy asked for time with me. For me to put the computer away. I snapped at him and instantly felt guilty. I should have explained to him about the anxiety I was feeling, from not writing to you, for a few days. How I want him to understand and respect that although you are not here, I still need my time to take care of you and now, that comes in the form of writing to you. Without this, I don’t know how I would cope at all. How important this is to me, to still nurture the relationship between a mother and a child. My dead child. How guilty I feel, during the times that I don’t write to you and how that guilt builds up because I feel like I am betraying you. Like you will think I have forgotten to tuck you in at night. My writing is my version of tucking you in, bathing you, kissing you, feeding you, holding you, wiping your tears, fixing your ouchies, and loving you. It is so important to me to continue this, for you. And for me. So, I started this last night, but should have listened to your Daddy because the fight I tried to put up, insisting that I needed to write to you, didn’t even pan out because I was that tired. Without the Ambien. You know what I’ve found is a natural remedy for sleep? Tears. Lots of tears. Endless amounts of tears that never stop so that when the night comes now, I am so tired that sleep is just begging for me. Such a far cry from the insomnia that consumed me for a good year.

I woke up today with a fuck ton to do. I woke up late. 8:00. I was so tired I felt like I could have slept for days. I took your brothers to school and got ready for someone to come over to the house from AZ Central to take my picture. Weird. It was actually fine. But something that I’m obviously not used to in my regular mama/cancer mama/bereaved mama life. I threw on a wrap dress that I have had forever. I took the time to blow dry my hair and throw on some red, spicy MAC lipgloss that I love. Because I heart red lips for everything. Red lips make everything better. As soon as the photographer got here, we settled into an easy chit chat. He was super sweet and I told him to make this picture thing as painless as possible. He laughed and said no problem. I also told him I really wanted to wear my purple TuTu and my Fuck You Cancer shirt, but I was thinking that the Arizona Republic would not embrace that. He laughed and said I should have, but I was probably right. Can’t win em’ all but it was the thought that counted, right? He took some pics outside. I tried to smile but I told him how hard that is for me now. He said he was sorry told me that I didn’t have to. So I didn’t. I didn’t feel like faking it today. I didn’t have the energy to force a smile. No big deal, yo. Just another day in the life of being here. Or just being.

After the AZ Republic guy left, I wrote a little, and tried to get a handle on the overflowing mounds of laundry that I have been avoiding. It is all clean, but has just been sitting in our laundry room, piling up to be folded. UGH. I had an interview with Arizona Foothills Magazine at noon so I was trying to chill before that. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I had no idea of the major AWESOMENESS that was in store. My friend, Heather, came over for to hang out for the interview. She knows Michael Dee well, and is really good about breaking the ice and bringing about a positive, crazy energy. She also brought me Starbucks which I was in desperate need for as my weekend of death hangover still seems to be looming about. We hung out and soon Michael Dee and his communications director and amazingly talented photographer, Sarah Love, arrived. As soon as I opened the door, I let out a sigh of relief. I felt the love and connection, instantly. Good people. These are really good people who are here to hear our story because they truly care and want to help. I gave them a little tour of our house. I joked with them about the mounds of laundry and asked if they knew how to fold. They laughed and said they would do it in a heartbeat. I didn’t think they meant it. It turns out they did because that is how our amazingly almost 3 hour interview/therapy/crying/laughing/feeling you everywhere, ended. With the 4 of us, folding my laundry. Our house for 3 blissful hours, was filled with an amazing raw and organic energy as I talked about you and this crazy painful adventure that is beginning. Michael asked how I feel about being an inspiration to others. I told him I honestly didn’t think about it because all I see is you, inspiring me. And if that turns into inspiring others, than that is such a beautiful thing. If others are ready to embark on this ride with us, I hope they are prepared to hold on tight. Because it is going to no doubt be bumpy, rough, scary, and at sometimes, it is going to feel like death. But I know the end result is going to be something out of this world. Something so different, special, and strong…. just like you. Something that is unlike anything this world has seen. Because never was there a boy, as beautiful as you, Ro. The beauty of your physical self and soul combined was so powerful and I as your mama, know this. Guess who else is figuring this out? The whole wide world. The whole wide world who wants to be a part of this change. Not only in the world of childhood cancer, but in the bigger scheme of things as well. They all know, because of you, that there is more to life, than just THIS.

Ro baby. I am so tired. I miss you so much. I know I don’t have a choice. I HAVE to do this. Thanks for reminding me of this.

To my Arizona Foothills Family- Michael Dee and Sarah LOVE. I love you. Thank you for loving me. For loving, Ro without even knowing us. Until now. After today, you will forever be a part of our hearts and souls. I cannot wait for our monthly laundry folding therapy sessions. GO BIG OR GO FUCKING HOME! You are now, family forever.

xoxo

I Love You and that’s All I Really Know

Ronan. I’m pretty sure I had no clue the pain of missing you could become worse. I’m pretty sure I thought I had felt the worst of it. I was wrong. My first sign? Friday morning. What do you do on days like Friday morning? You sit outside of a Smart and Final for 2 1/2 hours, crying, sobbing, screaming, writing, and texting very intense things to one of our lovies. I believe I fully freaked out and considered driving to some rehab place to check myself in. I could not get out of my car. But I HAD to because, I had to bring drinks to Liam and Quinn’s class for their Halloween Party. OPPS! I forgot, “FALL FESTIVAL!” Halloween does not exist in schools here anymore. Thank God the real problems of the world are being solved. I finally got out of the car, while on the phone with our lovie, sobbing…. not making much sense. But I got the freaking apple juice I needed and hopped into the car. I drove to the boys’ school early and waited. I worked up the nerve to put on my “Hello! I’m just a normal mommy face! Nope! The love of my life did not just die. You must have the wrong person.” I wish it would have went down this way. I was helping set up with a mom whom I don’t know. She asked how our year was going. I should have just said, “Totally Awesome!” But I didn’t. I told her it was awful. I told her my almost 4-year-old had died only 5 and a half months ago. I was sobbing. I couldn’t keep it together at all. I tried my best. But I think I totally failed. I think I got a big fat “F,” on my report card. And it for once, was not for the word FUCK, but rather FAIL, instead. Quinn didn’t seem to notice that I had been crying when he came into the room, which is all that matters. I left Quinn’s room and skipped over to Liam’s classroom. You should have seen the way his face it up when I walked into his room. You should have felt the mama guilt wash over me instead of happiness. He was very intently reading a book. He was so focused. I sat and watched him. He was concentrating so hard on his book. My serious student. Your beautiful brother.

After I left the school I and headed down to PCH. Sandra needed some help with her Mia today. Even though I was a mess, going to help Sandra is something I am always happy to do. WTF PCH. Poor Mia and this damn button on the outside of her stomach which is used to administer her medication. The area itself is raw, gooey, red, and Mia has been screaming for months because she is in so much pain. After a lot of talk about what to do…. because we, the parents have learned….. we have to advocate for our kids’ well-being and make the choices and decisions because nobody knows the right answers. They finally gave Sandra a choice. A choice after she FOUGHT to get a choice to choose from. They told her they could remove old button and basically replace it with a tube that hangs out Mia’s stomach. Well, duh. Why wasn’t this done months ago. It seemed like such a simple answer, to relieve the rubbing on Mia’s stomach that was causing all of the pain and irritation. Her poor little skin has been rubbed raw for months while everybody just walked around, not knowing what to do about it. How is that acceptable in this day and age? Sandra looked at me and said, “What do you think?” She asked me in a room full of fucking DOCTORS when they should have been the one’s making the call. I just looked at her and told her, it wasn’t even a choice….. get the thing that is hurting her so badly, out of her. The end result was she had the GI Button taken out, and something else put in, to hopefully give Mia’s skin a break. But Sandra, had to make the fucking request. It wasn’t offered to her. I mean seriously? How is it acceptable when there were other alternatives out there, but nothing was put on the table? Doesn’t anybody care? And can I please vent about the doctors assistants that were in the room with us as well? Two of them. Two girls, who are sitting back, staring like Mia is a Zoo animal on display. They didn’t say a word, but just sat back, smiling…. grinning from ear to ear. All while Mia is screaming, crying and Sandra has her head buried in her hands as she fought to find the right words and questions to ask for her daughter. I so wanted to scream, “What the FUCK are you all smiling at?! Is something cute or funny? Is there an imaginary fluffy bunny rabbit, running around the room that I do not know about?!” For FUCKS SAKE!

After we left there, Sandra texted me to thank me for giving her the courage to stand up and advocate for Mia today. I texted her back and told her that she didn’t need me for her courage today, that she was a badass. She said that she felt more badass with me around. I told her nonsense, that I totally think it’s her sassy hot blond hair that she now rocks. The hair that has grown back from shaving it BALD when Mia was first diagnosed. Nothing says badass like a mama who has a bald head, because her baby has cancer. I’m so proud of her.

I’ve decided, it’s official. I do not live on this planet anymore. Even though my body does, my physical spirit does not. It’s long gone. Nothing makes sense. I know nothing about life except what I know at this exact moment which is this: I’m laying in your bed. You’re dead. I miss you so much. I miss you so much, that I don’t know what to do or how to be. I can’t talk much about this weekend. Fuck. Tomorrow is Halloween. Fuck again. I met a new baby boy tonight. Cooper Ronan Bunger. He was sweet. Only 3 months old. I took a picture of the two of us. He smiled in it. I think you told him to. I love you for that. I’m sorry I failed you. I’m sorry you’re dead. I’m sorry I have to do Halloween without you tomorrow. It feels like betrayal. I have to drive to Sedona to see Dr. Jo. Because I’m scared. Because I’m tired. So. Very. Tired.

P.S. I forgot one other thing, that I do know. That everyone, who reads this blog, should click on this link: http://www.arizonafoothillsmagazine.com/best-of-our-valley-2012/voting/150.html and vote for our Miss Katy. Because her store is full of awesome things like Garbage Pail Kids,Sugar Daddies, Fake PURPLE and PINK Glasses, Invisible Ink, Silly Putty, and Retro phones that you plug into your iPhone, while you talk on it. It totally makes you look like the raddest kid on the block, in an old school kind of way. It it is the one and only thing that make me laugh today. Thanks Miss Katy Grace.

Goodnight my babydoll. You were the most beautiful thing that’s ever been mine. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe.

xoxo

Is it possible to Die choking on your own Tears?

Ronan. Days are filled with emptiness. They are not getting easier. Nights are worse. Halloween is approaching. How am I supposed to celebrate our favorite holiday, without you? If you were here, we would be going to your school tomorrow to celebrate. I would be tucking you into bed right now, but you would have been too excited to sleep. I’m sure you would be dressing up as someone from Star Wars. It was our tradition.

Baby Ro- Chewbacca. 2-year-old Ro- Master Yoda. 3 Year old Ro- Captain Rex. Who would it have been this year? I’m not sure. Does it matter? It does to me. Halloween cards come in the mail. But nothing for you. I lose it. “What the hell?” I scream! “Did he not exist?!” “Is he that easy to forget?!” The hot tears stream down my face. ” I want a card for him, too! Not just 2. 3 little boys. I HAVE 3 BOYS! I want him back! NO! I DO NOT WANT A PUPPY OR A FUCKING BABY FOR CHRISTMAS! I WANT RONAN! I ONLY WANT RONAN!”

I don’t get to go to your school tomorrow for your Halloween party. I get to go to only Liam and Quinn’s. How am I supposed to put on my bravest face to handle tomorrow? I don’t have a choice. I have to do it for them. I had Quinn’s conference this week. His teachers words….”He is a gift to me. Such a delight. So kind to everyone. Excelling in everything. Needs a little work on his handwriting. He is off the charts in his math….” I felt like I was in an alternate universe. I looked all around the classroom at all the kids’ work. I started to cry. I apologized to his teacher. “I’m so sorry. I have no idea what’s been going on in this classroom. I’m usually the mom that knows it all. That is always helping. I haven’t been in here once this year.” She just looked at me and said that it was o.k. That I have a pretty good reason, not to be. But I don’t want a reason or an excuse.  I just want my life back. I want to be the fun classroom mama again. I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to get through tomorrow. I have thrown up all day about it. I want to go to your school. I want to dress you up. But some evil mother fucker out there decided that you brought me way too much happiness in my life, so you had to go away. But I didn’t do anything wrong to have you taken away. I only loved you so much. That is the only crime I am guilty of committing.

I went to Sedona on Tuesday. Dr. Jo couldn’t make it to Phoenix this week, so I drove up to see her. We did our session at her house and then went and grabbed lunch. It was a long but peaceful day and night. I was able to smile and breathe a bit. I know you know why. You always do. I came home, relaxed and fell asleep all night long. My sleeping has been better. I have not taken my Ambien since the night before I left for my Sedona Grief Retreat weekend. I have been able to fall asleep and I have been staying asleep until about 2 a.m. I always wake up around this time and than, the pacing begins for about an hour or two. I look for you everywhere. I scream into pillows. I cry.  Dr. Jo says it’s my animal instinct taking over. I’m like the mama tiger at the zoo, who has been separated from her baby. The mama tiger paces back and forth. Sometimes she even chews off her own limbs  because she goes crazy not knowing what to do without her baby. I feel like that mama tiger. I’m trapped on the inside of the glass cage, looking for you, watching as everyone on the outside just goes on with their lives. Everyone is happy. How can that be? What? You have a new boyfriend? No. I don’t want to meet him. I want you all to go away. I don’t want to see life go on. I want life to end. I am incapable of feeling the happiness that you feel. That you deserve. I cannot be happy for you. So, please just let me be. I have nothing left to give anyone. I am doing my best to keep myself alive. That is all I am capable of now. Forgive me. But Ronan died. Doesn’t anybody understand? How is Halloween not canceled this year? How is your school, celebrating like it is a normal year? Don’t they miss you so much, that they shouldn’t? No. Only in my mind should they. Because to me, you were so special that the whole wide world should stop. But nobody misses you, as much as I do. Which means that nobody is even capable of feeling the pain that I feel. Which means that nobody loved you more. Which is why I physically hurt so bad 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I don’t get a break from this pain. Ever. Not that I would want it. I wouldn’t give this pain to anyone else. It is mine to carry for the rest of my life because it reminds me every second of the day how much I love you. How much I will always love you. So much that I often think I am going to choke to death, on my own tears.

This week has been a blur. I took your brothers to a park to play after school. They had the time of their lives. They played football in the rain, with some other kids. I could have sworn you were right there with them. I cried on the way home because you weren’t. I told your brothers how sad it made me that you were not there, with them. How much you would have loved it. They were both covered in mud, soaked from head to toe, just like they should have been. Where are you? Who are you playing with? How is it not us? Why is it not us? Do you think I killed you? I was supposed to keep you safe. I promised you I was going to get you better. But then you just died. Just like that. How am I supposed to live with this, Ro?

I don’t know. I don’t fucking know anything anymore except everyday without you is harder and harder and who the fuck came up with the saying that the pain will get easier as time goes on? I know who. Some jackass who is not a mom. Probably some asswad fucking fuckwad scientist who had to bury their cat. Clearly it was not a mom. Or a dad. Who’s almost 4-year-old died.

I don’t know what else to say tonight. Except what I say to you, every night. I love you to the moon and back. I miss you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, babydoll. I love you.

xoxo

P.S. Dear loveliest of lovelies:::::: So many of you sweet peas have sent the most beautiful gifts. A lot of it, pretty jewelry for me to wear. Please know these things, always make me smile. Today, I wore one of my new favorite things. A little delicate gold necklace that has, “Fuck Cancer,” inscribed on it as well as a small purple jewel hanging from the chain. Oh, how I proudly wore this today. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. xoxoxoxo a million times over.

I’d totally let you be Hanky the Christmas Poo for Halloween. Actually, I’d let you be Hanky everyday if that is what you wanted, if you were still here.

Ronan. Holy Fucking Fall Break. Day One, down. I remember, when you were still alive, how I thought it was crazy that schools had a Fall Break. Didn’t your brothers, just start back to school? What is this Fall Break madness? I remember feeling the pressure of wondering how I would keep all 3 of you, entertained, for a whole week. What I wouldn’t give to have that worry back now. It was not a worry at all. How did I even think that it was? What was wrong with me? How did I think that something like that, was an actual problem? It’s because I lived in the make-believe problem/worry world before all of this. In a world that was so simple and perfect, that I had to make things up, to complain about. Like the Arizona heat, like not getting enough sleep, like missing a workout, like not having enough time to myself. Blah, Blah, Blah. Those are not problems. Those are blessings. If I only knew then, what I know now. I would have never complained about a thing.
I spent the day with your brothers. Doing a lot of errands. I took them for haircuts, to Costco, etc…. We spent about 4 hours, running around today. They saw one of those big Halloween Costume places. They asked if we could go in. I put on a smile and told them, of course when it was secretly killing me that I had to walk in there, without you. Our first Halloween without you. We spent a good hour in that store today. They ran all around. We tried on silly costumes. They pointed out some things they thought I should be. They played with fake swords, knives, guns, blood, and all things Halloween. They both want to be characters from South Park. Remember how you used to love that show? How once you got cancer, all of life’s rules, just kind of flew out of the window? Crap. Before all of this, I would have never let my kids watch South Park. But then you got Cancer and one night, we were trying to make you laugh. To forget that you were sick. Your Daddy put on the Hanky the Poo, South Park episode. Laugher galore in a house full of cancer and sadness. Fuck what is appropriate. Because once your child gets cancer, you no longer view the world the same. And things that seem important and appropriate, are not. All that mattered is that we were all together and we were all laughing. So Kenny and Cartman they wan to be. If you were still here, I’d let you be Hanky the Christmas Poo. I wouldn’t think twice about it. You loved to sing that song so much. I have a feeling trying to find costumes to fit 8-year-old boys, after an adult Cartoon show, may be a little difficult. I’ll make them if I have to.  I wanted so badly, to buy your costume today. I don’t know how I am going to get through this Halloween without you, Ro.

I spent all day, entertaining your brothers. It was work. It was hard. It was exhausting. And normally, it would not have been. It would have just been fun. It would have been crazy. We would have spent the day with friends. At a pumpkin patch. At the Train Park. At the Zoo. Or any other big adventure as long as it meant you 3 were busy, having fun, getting messy, dirty, and just being boys. Your Daddy came home around 4 and I was about to break. He let me lay in bed for a while, but the whole time, Quinn was by my side. I needed some space and your Daddy knew this. He took your brothers to play basketball and they went to dinner afterwords. I stayed home, curled up in bed, and as soon as it became dark, I headed out for my run. It’s the only place, where I can clear my head just a bit. It’s the only place where I can seem to find just a bit of clarity; whatever that means now. I ran 6 miles. I turned around at 3 and ran back home so I didn’t end up somewhere crazy, like last night.

I came home, showered, and spent the rest of the night with Quinn attached to my hip. I watched Liam  play Chess. He is getting really good. I tried to spend some alone time with Liam, but Quinn is just not having it. I had to have a talk with Quinn tonight about “my world now.” I had to say things to him that were tough and made him cry. I was in his bed, trying to get him to sleep, laying with him like I do every night. He started talking about the trip I am going on this weekend. He has obsessed about it for a month now. His little brain, cannot comprehend it or understand it. Not to sound harsh, but he has been riding my ass about it for 2 weeks straight. He is making me feel really guilty for leaving. I have so much that I feel guilty for, so you’d think that this little thing would just be another little thing to throw into the pile. Add it to the list, no big deal. It’s becoming a big deal so tonight I kind of just broke. I raised my voice, which you know I don’t do often because I don’t really ever have a reason to. It’s happening more and more. I’ve explained this trip to Quinn, no less than 10 times.

I wish I could say I was going on a Girls Trip. I wish I could say, “Oh, all of my children are alive, and mommy needs a break so I’m going to Napa.” I wish I could say I was going somewhere with my husband because we are so overdue for the one week-long trip we used to take every year, together. Without kids. I wish I could say I was going somewhere cool to “find myself.” Nope. Natta. Not happening. Will never be the case again. I’m going on a Grief Retreat. Alone. A trip I would not wish on anyone. A trip I wish I never had to take. A trip I do not want to go on, but I have decided it is something that I have to do. Because I don’t know what else to do and if I don’t do something, I will crack. And much more than I already am. It’s in Sedona. I’m going up on a Friday night and coming home on Sunday. The seminar is all day Saturday and it is put on by Dr. J and a couple of other people. I’m really only going because it is something that she is involved in and I believe in her. I don’t know if this will help me and I am going without any expectations. I will be proud of myself if I can manage to be present for even part of the day. I know I am asking a lot of myself at this point in my life, but I am willing to try because I have to. Because what I am doing now is not working and if somebody can clue me in, even the slightest bit…. then I am willing to take a chance. Even if it is to tell me that the seminar is too much and I just need to crawl back in my hotel bed, for the day, pull the blinds and not worry about anyone or anything, then that is good enough reason for me to go.

Back to your brother. Your brother that spent 20 minutes, in his bed with me, grilling me about Sedona. I was trying so hard to be extra sensitive to his questions. I was really patient, sweet, compassionate and was doing really well with explaining everything to him. He would just NOT let up. I get that he has a reason to worry but after sweetly talking with him for 20 minutes about this trip….. crack. The mama, spawn of the devil, took over.

“Quinn! I am sorry! I don’t know what else to tell you. I am sorry I have to go on this trip, because your brother died. I’m sorry you don’t understand because you are 8 years old, and you are not supposed to. But I need to take a little time, to take care of myself, because if I don’t, I cannot be the best mommy that I want to be to you. Because I am so sad about your brother dying that I need help. That’s why I go talk to Dr. J, that’s why I am going to this. Because all I really want to do is lock myself in a room for a month and cry, scream, yell and punch things. But I can’t do that, because I have to take care of you and Liam. So you need to cut me some slack! You need to trust that I am coming back and I am not going to leave you! But I need a break, Buddy, and if I don’t take some time to do some things to help me, then we are all going to be in big trouble. So please. Try to understand a little, Quinn. You are not a Daddy. You are 8. You don’t know what it feels like to lose your own child. It is very hard to be a mommy and have your 3-year-old child die, Quinn. Please just give me a break. This is not a fun trip that I am going on. It is a sad trip but I need to take some time to go on this sad trip and just be really, really, sad. And listen to some other teachers, that can maybe help me a little!”

I’m laying with Quinn as I’m saying this. He says he is sorry and tears pour down his cheeks. Stamp my forehead with WORST MOM EVER, please. I kiss him, tell him I’m sorry you died, and that I love him. I don’ know what else to say or do. He falls asleep while I rub his back. I woke him up a few minutes ago to tell him how much I loved him. How much you love him. How he was your best friend. How special he is. I don’t know if he’ll remember tomorrow. Maybe you can visit him tonight and play with him in his dreams. I know he’d like that.

That’s all for tonight, little man. I’m beat. But not really. You know how this goes. I love you. I miss you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, Ro baby.

xoxo

I found Liam reading in my bathtub. I think I’ll just wear a really funny mask for Halloween so nobody has to see my tears.

I forgot to pay the Cox Bill and I burnt the Fucking pre-made Cookies

Ronan. 3 days since I’ve written? How is that possible? I couldn’t possibly tell you what I’ve done. I only have words that fill my head. Conversations I remember. Thoughts that flow in and out of my mind. Visions. Of you. All bad. All sad. Nothing good. Your smile does not fill my heart. Only grief. Only pain. Only the ever flowing sadness of losing you, that consumes me. Everything is jumbled.

Cupcakes for a friend. A birthday. But not yours. Balloons. Not for you? But always for you. A play date for your brothers. With a 4-year old, but it wasn’t you? A storm. The first storm, without you to cuddle up to. A run instead? To avoid the pain. A run, after the storm at 8:30 p.m. in the dark, alone, from our house, very fast, all the way to PCH and back?? How did I end up there? 10 miles there and back from our house. I think. I couldn’t stop. I tried to find you but you weren’t there. Happy laughs from your brothers. Smiles so true. But how is that possible, without you? Bittersweet. Rage. Disbelief. Has everyone forgotten?

An email from school. A Fall Party. A Harvest Festival. Volunteers needed. Of course I sign up. Wait. A Fall Party? Don’t they mean, Halloween? No. They do not. It’s specific. Words printed right there in black and white. “Please keep in mind, the district does not want the focus of our party, to be Halloween.” What? Really? Who the fuck are the assholes who got, “Halloween,” kicked out of school?Because they must have worked really fucking hard, to make this happen. WOW. I wish schools would take Childhood Cancer, a little more seriously, than Halloween. I wish schools would be a little more offended, by their future kids, getting sick and or dying, from Cancer, than fucking Halloween. I wish the schools would take the time, to EDUCATE, kids on things like Childhood Cancer, instead of protecting them from Halloween. I bet our future generation, would grow up more compassionate, kind, loving, forgiving, helpful, smart, and all around, better people if they knew a little more, about Childhood Cancer. Instead of being sheltered from the world, by not being able to celebrate fucking Halloween at school. Really? We are really more offended by Halloween, than of Ronan dying? Than of all the sick little boys and girls, surviving, hurting, being scared, sad, ignored, tossed away, treated like LAB RATS and DYING? DID YOU HEAR WHAT I SAID?? DYING?? Who is making these rules? Who is wasting their time and energy of things that have such little importance or significance? Fucking idiots, that’s who.

Conversations that really happened. I could not make this shit up: Once again. Names have been altered, to protect the innocent. Except for mine of course. Slander my name. Throw me under the bus. I’ll survive. Worse things, could happen. Right? Yes. As we all know, much worse.

Number 1)

Silly Bug- “Mom, when Dad comes to our school to talk about his job, he’s going to say he’s a lawyer. If you come, you can say that your job is to take care of 2 boys all day long.”

Me- “Wait. What? 2 boys. No silly, bug. Not two boys. Three boys. You, Quinn and Ronan. Always Ronan.”

Number 2)

Silly Bug number 2-“But why, Mom. Why do you have to go see Dr. J today? Why do you have to leave us to go and talk to her.”

Me-“Because my son just died that’s why! My son, and your brother and I need someone to talk to! How do you not understand that?!”

Ummmm…. because they are 8, dumbass. Because you are so good at playing pretend, that mommy is going to be alright.

(insert guilty worst mom ever pressure internal monologue here) “Wait. Did I just snap at my kids? Did I really, just respond to them, with that answer, in that tone of voice? Was that even me? The calm, cool, I don’t yell rather I explain in depth, we talk it out, but now I’ve turned into the spawn of the Devil, Mom?? Yup. You did. And you’re not even going to apologize. Your going to roll with it. There is no going back and sugar-coating to the sweetest ever 8-year-old boys. You did it. You don’t ever do it. OWN IT. Life is tough. And sometimes, 8 year olds, need to be reminded of that because they are so resilient. It is amazing how resilient. I am thankful, for that resilience. The resilience that is so bittersweet. They won’t forget you. I know that. But sometimes I forget. And sometimes, it is hard to watch them, going on as if you were never here. As if you are still here, and never gone. It leaves me confused. Perplexed. Wandering about, in a state of mourning and grief, that only seems to be getting worse. Day by day. Minute by minute. The emotional anesthetics is slowly wearing off. I thought it had already worn off? Nope. You were tricked. You were fooled. It’s only getting more and more painful.

Push away. Isolation but not really. Out in the world. So busy. So many tasks. A real smile exists every so often. By chance most times. When they happen, they are authentic and they make my heart feel light and breezy. The lady who tells me she used to only get French manicures, on her fingernails, but is loving her bright, crazy colors, like the Bubble Gum Hot pink she has plastered all over her fingers and toenails. I think it must be, because of you. The little girl. The brave little girl who goes in front of her ENTIRE school, to give a speech and says she thought of YOU the entire time. That was you. I know it was you. The applications that I read for the model search. About the little girl that cut off her hair, and gave it to her cousin, who has Cancer. The little girl, who had her Daddy drive all the way from Tuscon, to fill her’s out. The people who stop me, to tell me that they will fight for you, for the rest of you their lives and they didn’t even know you. The Busy Little Bees of mine, who come swarming in, no questions asked, when I need help. All whispers from you. “Mama. I’m still here. Mama. You have to be strong. Mama. I’ll never leave you. Mama. My spirit still exists. Mama. I love you.” I hear your little whispers, ever so faintly.

A session with Dr. J.

A session that I think I cried for almost the entire two hours. A session where she asked me to read my letter out loud to Dr. Kushner. She asked me. She pulled me. She didn’t push me. A letter that I did not think I could write. I almost couldn’t. But I did. My uncensored letter. The raw, uncut version which was titled, “Dear Dr. You Killed my Son, Kushner.” A letter that needed to be written. Words that needed to be said. Valid or not, they needed to be said. For you. And for me. Because all it would have taken was a simple, “I’m so sorry. I failed you. Your son, is dying. There is nothing I can do. I tried my hardest.” Instead I got no eye contact, and thrown out of that hospital, like we were yesterdays garbage. Never to be thought of again. Not acceptable in my book. So, I channeled my inner rage, pain, guilt, and sadness in that letter. I could have written 20 pages, but had to stop when I could physically take no more. The words are there, in black and white. They will be sent. Someday. In an edited version. With your obituary. Then an unedited version, will follow. Someday. For you. For I am your voice as shaky as it may be. Someday I will be able to read that letter out loud, to Dr. J while looking her in the eyes. I will read that letter out loud to her in strong and powerful voice. Not in the way I read it out loud to her a few nights ago. Crying. Tears spilling all over the paper. Stopping. Starting. So much pain. Too much pain. Is that even possible??

Number 3)

Me- “Are you o.k.? I’m so sorry. What do you need? What can I do.”

S- “I’m o.k. There is nothing you can do. You know what. I’m wrong. There is something you can do. You can keep being amazing. You can keep being the remarkable young woman that you are. Please don’t ever stop that. You are amazing. Promise?”

Me- Tears spilling. Face black. Forgot to wear my fucking waterproof mascara. “Yeah. O.k. I promise.”

Heart heavy. Filled with Hope. The nudge I needed when I need it most. Always. Always. One of the few reasons that I am still here. A smile exists. Truly exists. You know. I know you know, Ro. You’ve always known.

Number 4)

Little Bug number 1- “MOM!!! Can you cook those pre made cookies for us today, for when we get home from school? Please! They have spiders on them!!”

Me: “Of course I can, Buddy! Because I’m SUPERMOM!”

2:30 p.m. rolls around. Fuck. Pick kids up in T-30 minutes. Throw cookies in oven for 10 minutes. Forget to set timer. Go to bedroom. Sink in bed for 25 minutes. Don’t sleep. Sit. Quiet. Still. Cry. What’s that smell coming from the kitchen? It’s nothing. 2:55 rolls around. Time to get boys! Jump out of bed. Ummmm… I smell smoke. Where is that coming from? OH MY GOD YOU DUMBASS! You burnt the fucking cookies! The fucking pre made cookies that are impossible to mess up and destroy. Well mama, you destroyed those to a crisp today. Black. I scrubbed the cookie sheet. Threw the cookies outside in the garbage as to destroy the evidence. It didn’t work. 5 hours later and our house still smells like burnt cookies. Good thing 8 year olds are so forgiving.

Number 4)

W- goes to turn on the T.V. ::::::: Your cable service, has been disconnected. Please call 1800 blahblahblah to have it reinstalled.”
W- looks at me like I am the devil. ” Did you seriously not pay the cable bill?” I mean really? Babe. You know before you do all your other “stuff,” that the bills need to be paid, right??”

Inca- (my alter ego, sassy pants name) FIts of giggles. Laughter. “Wait. Your going to get that upset, over the Cable Bill? Do you think if I called up COX and told them that our son just died of Cancer, that they would give me a Hall Pass?? Because I think that should qualify. Can you tell them, that the woman who is in charge of paying the bills is now a BEREAVED mother, so everyone at COX can be put on HIGH ALERT and she can be cut a little slack?? Just a little??”

W- Did not think that was funny. Played the responsible, mature role as always.

I had paid the bill, that day. I knew it was late. I was just hoping I had paid it on time, for it not to get shut off. I didn’t. Tragedy. I could care less if I never watch T.V. again as it irritants me like no other. Useless stagnate noise to fill the voids within ourselves. Pleasure? From T.V. Really? Or avoidance from the reality of all the beauty that surrounds us, but we choose to ignore. Or avoidance from our pain? Relaxing? Maybe. Not to a mom, whom has lost her son. T.V. is pure static. Pure torture. Unnecessary noise. Anxiety. Time that we always spent together, Ro. T.V. time. “Mickey Mouse Club House.” “Max and Ruby.” “Clone Wars.” “Glee.” Our favorites. Now the shows still play. I want to throw up every time Mickey Mouse Club House comes on the screen. You should be watching it on my lap, eating you eggies. Why are you not? Where are you? Can anyone, explain any of this to me? Do you still have your children? Oh, they are outside, playing. Oh, they are at soccer practice. Oh, they are picking you flowers.” Well, darn it then. You cannot explain it to me. You cannot tell me everything happens for a reason. You cannot tell me how I should or should not be grieving. You cannot fix this. No one can. Unless you can bring him back. Unless you can rewind time to before he died. If you can do that, than we can talk. I’d live in that world, the not sick, the sick, the cancer sick, the cancer not getting better; but not the he’s dying from cancer, world. I’d live in every one of those worlds, for the rest of my life, except that one. I don’t ever want to have to watch my son, die over and over again. Except I do. Because it replays in my head as if I am at a theatre, watching a movie. The same movie, over and over again.

Dear Faithful Followers of this Blog,

Are you still out there? Have you gone away? I hope I didn’t worry you too much. I hope I didn’t scare you with this jippity jumpity blog post. I know I was a little all over the place. I told Woody I had not written in 3 days. He asked how that made me feel. I told him anxious. Very anxious. I’ve had too many things going on in my head to keep them cooped up for that long. When I release them, it’s like a flood of words, feelings, thoughts, all discombobulated. All wild and free which is just where I need to be because , All good things are wild and free, right? I so believe this to the core of my soul. Of the core to Ronan’s soul. My other favorite quote, “Life’s no way to treat an animal.” Vonnegut knows it better than anyone. I so appreciate that. I so appreciate all you. Forgive my lack of communication as far as messages, emails, Facebook’s…… I’ve taken on a lot. Emotionally, Physically, Mentally…. I feel like I’m drowning again. Dr. J is going to print out little flyers for me that simply say, “FUCK OFF! MY KID JUST DIED! SO NO, I WON”T DO THAT!” Brilliant woman she is.

If you have not heard from me this week, it’s not because I’m ignoring you. It’s because I honestly have so many emails, that I am scared to open them all up. I am going designate a day, to do this and go through them all, properly. Thank you for sending them. I can’t wait to read them. I’m sure there is much amazingness to come from them. So THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU!!!!

Less is more. Busy is o.k. but not busy the way I have been busy. Ronan. You should see our laundry room. The one that is always perfectly spotless as Im always caught up on the laundry. I have piles of clean clothes, everywhere back there. Spilling out of the baskets, the sink, on top of the dryer. Obviously you know I’ve been way too busy if this is happening. I’m a laundry freak and obsess over it. Not this week. Apparently this week the our little laundry fairy (me) decided not to show up. We will have to dock her pay!

YOWZWER RO! It’s a novel tonight! Time to say G’night my little Boo. I love you. Your Daddy loves you. Your brothers love you. We all miss you. We are all hurting over you. We will hurt over you for the rest of our lives. But lives that you are going to shape for us to live, so we can live with the most potential possible. Because to live any other way would be pointless and shameful.

I love you, RO. I love you to the moon and back. Just me and you, Baby. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I hope you are safe. You are so very loved.

xoxo

Little seal

 

Ronan. Your birthday. Daddy’s birthday. Liam and Quinn’s Birthday. Next up…. Father’s Day. Tomorrow. It’s hard enough having you gone, but having these “celebrations,” without you is unbearable. Tomorrow, I will somehow manage to get myself out of bed, somehow manage to go on about the day, somehow I will let your daddy know how much you love him. I will love him for you tomorrow. I can’t believe he has to be without you, so soon on fucking Father’s Day. No.No.No.No.No. This still can’t be true. I’ve managed to get through these days without you, but I do not want tomorrow to come. I wish we could all sleep right through it and wake up on Monday. Can’t we just skip over Father’s Day tomorrow?? I’m tired of these celebrations so soon after having you gone. Talk about ripping a band-aid off of an open wound. It’s all happening way too soon. I’m so sorry for your daddy. I’m so sorry that you can’t be with us tomorrow. I would give anything to change this, Ro. I know you know that.

We spent today at the pool and the beach with Laura, Kasey, Cameron, and Baby Chase. It was a gorgeous day out. I went surfing for a couple of hours. The Coronado beach was full of seaweed today. I was literally paddling my board out to get past the waves and my hands were full of seaweed after each stroke that I took. I didn’t mind though; it was so gross and unlike anything I have ever experienced before that it made me laugh. The waves were small today but it was good for me as I am still learning how to get the hang of this whole surfing thing. I stood up a lot which also made me smile. After I had been out for about an hour, I came back in to warm up. As I was laying on my towel, I heard some guys in the group of people next to me talking about how they were out boogie boarding and a little seal was out there with them. I, of course, thought of you. I wished I had seen this little seal today but just hearing them talk about it made me smile and cry all at the same time. You are my little seal. Your name always fit you so perfectly and you always reminded me of one with your playful ways. Even more so after you got cancer with your beautifully bald head and enormous seal eyes. Was that you today, watching over me without me even knowing you were so close by? I think it was. Thanks for keeping me safe. Next time, I’ll look for you.

After our beachy day, Laura and I ran some errands and your daddy and Kasey got the food ready to grill down by the pool. They cooked up a feast and we spent the evening eating and watching the kids run around and play. Liam and Quinn are so good with the little one’s. They were both so meant to be big brothers. I am so sad that they don’t have that anymore. They were always so good to you and loved you so much. My heart breaks for them almost more than it does mine. Watching them these past few days with Cameron and Chase has been beautiful and sad. They were meant to be big brothers in life. They were meant to be your big brothers. I’ll never understand this, Ro. Never. I’ll never understand why you had to be taken away from us. Such a cruel, cruel reality.

How am I going to get through tomorrow? How am I going to be strong enough to get your daddy through it? I’m about ready to start banning all holidays from now on except Halloween, which was your favorite. If I had my way from now on we’d only celebrate Halloween, and Birthdays. Everything else seems stupid and pointless. But so does everything without you. I’m sorry I’m being such a Debbie Downer tonight. My heart hurts and I don’t know what to do or how this is ever going to get better. I just miss you so very much. I’m going to go now, Ro. I’m too sad to write anymore tonight. I love you to the moon and back baby. Sweet dreams.

xoxo

Chase and Quinn. Look how happy Quinn looks. He loved being your big brother so much, Ro.

Happy Halloween!

Hope you all had a great Halloween! We had a wonderful one… Ro was able to trick or treat and everything! We started off at our friends, The Tarbell’s house for some great company and delicious homemade pizzas by Mark himself. After that, we went over to our friends, The Willits for some trick-or-treating. Gay drove about 12 of us around in a golf cart for a good couple of hours. Wheehew!! It was a golf cart full of all boys! Such fun!! Ronan kept right up and was running all around until left there around 9:30. It was late for a school night, but everyone was having such a good time that it was hard to wrap it up. Thank you to our wonderful friends tonight for celebrating with us. It was very special to us to have Ronan out and about. Tomorrow, we start Round 4 of his magic medicine. We will be in the hospital until Thursday or Friday…. assuming all goes well. Please keep our little guy in your thoughts and prayers… hoping he will get through this round as easily as all of the others.

We’ve had a great break from the hospital but it’s time to knock this round 4 out. One more check mark off our little guy’s list. He is not psyched about having to go to the hospital tomorrow, but hoping he will not put up too much of a fight. I hope you all had a wonderful Halloween and enjoyed your kiddos to death. Goodnight to our army of angels out there.

xoxo