I’m having a white party tomorrow. Do you think P Diddy would want to come?

Ronan. Do you know how I feel tonight? Hollow. Empty. I swear, it’s just one thing after another. I just had a Mother’s Day that no mother would ever want. All after your death day, your birthday/the day you were cremated (on your fucking birthday), Mother’s Day, and now tomorrow, is the day we had your fucking services, last year. May is a sick fucking joke. Next year, I am going to Iceland for May and living in a fucking igloo and ignoring May, all together. I came home from our trip, numb. I am totally numb again. How can I not be? I’m numb without the help of any anti-depressants. The one’s that everyone wanted to numb me with and still want to numb me with. I’m still here screaming that I don’t want to be numb. I will feel this, the way I am supposed to feel this and not by taking medications to help me not feel this. I want to feel this. I deserve to feel this pain. I am strong enough to handle it, no matter how much it hurts. I think my body is having a natural numbness physical reaction, all on it’s own. Because these dates, right after another, are just too much.

Mother’s Day was banned. Well, at least it was in my head. I let Liam and Quinn still think it was happening, because I don’t want to ruin everything for them. I took Mother’s Day and turned it into a day, all about them. I had a Liam and Quinn day and didn’t make a peep. I don’t think I even cried. See, I told you I was numb. We went to a Red Sox game, which they LOVED. We went and had a BBQ dinner at our friends’ house and they loved that just as much. We let our 4 kids run around and play with each other, but it still should have been 6. We sat with our friends into the night, talking normal talk and cancer talk. That’s the way it will always be. But it was easier with these friends, to be around them on Mother’s Day. I took comfort in all of our sadness on this “Happy Day,” of the year. I sat and thought a lot about your Fairy RoMo. I texted her it was indeed not Mother’s Day but Fairy RoMo day instead! I told her how you would have went craaaaazy over her Goldilocks hair and I know she would have loved you like her own. I am changing Mother’s Day to Fairy RoMo day. Because the love/kindness/support/and heart of your Fairy RoMo should be celebrated on this day. So it was, for her. I let my thoughts soften a bit while thinking about all the beauty that just exudes out of her, all the time. Like there is just sparkly glitter falling from the sky, when she is near. That’s how I feel anyway. It makes me feel peaceful, happy and inspired. There is that lucky world again, Ro. I am so lucky, to have her in our lives. Thanks for bringing us to each other. Another one of your little gifts, I know.

We made it home now and all I want to is run screaming back to Maine. Preferably Cape Elizabeth where I totally left my broken heart. I could see my broken heart mending there, quite well. You know what I felt while we were there, besides sad? Peaceful, calm, quiet, relaxed… I felt the pieces of me, that I miss so much. Your brothers felt it too. For such an awful reason to go away, Ro baby, it was the best place we could have possibly went. Maine and Cape Cod. Your brothers were so in their element there. They were so happy and carefree. They were so sweet and we spent so much time, outdoors playing in the beach, on rocks, on logs, in the water, in the woods, getting lost with each other and slipping into their childhood that they should know. The only childhood they should know where their baby brother, does not get cancer and die. It should have been the 5 of us there, Ronan. My heart is ripped to shreds that it is not and never will be again. But your brothers, they are happy. I guess that means your daddy and I are doing a good job, despite all of this. I don’t know how, but we just keep skipping along, not missing a beat because now, only their happiness is what matters to me. Mine can wait. I can put mine on hold, forever. Liam and Quinn will not be robbed of anymore happiness. They are too good of boys to have anymore hurt come a long. So, Ro… I still cry in front of them. But not as often. I laugh more with them and hide all the guilt that washes over me when I do. Guilt that they do not need to see or hear about. Adult guilt that I hope they never have to know about, in this way. Your dead child guilt where everything you do feels wrong… even telling another little boy at a hospital how brave he is while you are in visiting him. FUCK. Did I really just tell him he was brave. OH MY GOD. I only used to tell Ronan that. I just betrayed, Ronan. Fuck. I have to leave. I do. Tears pouring. Ronan. I’m sorry. You were the bravest little boy, I’ve ever known. I’m sorry if that hurt your feelings. I tell you thinks like this all the time because the guilt never goes away. It’s heavy to carry but that’s just the way it is. Once your child dies, you don’t stop taking care of them. It just continues on in a different form. I still have 3 kids to take care of. Why else would I be doing your Foundation, Ro? My number one reason is it is my way of still being your mom, still taking care of you, and still doing a really good job at it. A job that is going to be done, so well due to how much I love you and you love me. This is why your foundation will change things. Because our love is powerful enough to do so and because I promised to fight for these kids and families until things start to get better. Like a freaking CURE for Neuroblastoma. Let’s start with that. That is what we are going to do with our passion, drive, energy and love. We are going to help these doctors but we are also going to help these families. No family should feel so alone in this, the way we did. It was wrong, wrong, wrong. I have a big list of things that need to be fixed. I’ve been working on that list with Dr. JoRo. We will get to each and every thing, one by one so that maybe a family will not just feel like another number. They deserve so much more than that.

Tomorrow is May 15th. The day we had your services last year and I remember NOTHING about it. I think I smiled a lot. I think I did the “Thank you for coming.” I think I thought I was floating on air and I probably was. I wore white. Everyone did. So for tomorrow, it only makes sense to wear all white again. I’ll do this, on this day, every year for the rest of my life. I’m having my own White Party and P Diddy is not invited. Unless he wants to donate a fuckton of money to Ronan so we can start to put our master plan into place. The master plan starts soon. I’m running with it because I have to. Because it is a good idea. Because it is so needed. So, P Diddy, you can come to my White Party tomorrow but be prepared to bring your big fat checkbook. I only need about 10 million dollars. My White Party might suck compared to the fancy one’s you throw every year. With all your fancy people, cars, clothes, etc…. My white party is just going to be me and my son’s Urn. We might have a dance party together. He loved to have dance parties. My party will probably involve tears, but they will be the saddest tears you’ve ever seen for the most beautiful little boy who ever lived. They don’t all have to be sad, they could be happy ones too because I think you might come to the conclusion that my White Party kicks the shit out of yours just for the cause alone. You know, just trying to save some kids’ lives. Cancer Kids who live right here, in the U.S.A. We’ve got a lot of problems of our own, right here. I wish you celeb types would stop and look around here. You could help save so many of these babies who don’t even know how to fight, but they are the strongest fighters I’ve ever seen in my life. They are the true heroes, warriors, fighters. They deserve to have a strong voice to start stepping up and helping them. They deserve to have a chance at growing up. I don’t want anymore families to go through what we have gone through. What we have lost which is everything. Ronan was EVERYTHING to our entire family, not just me. He was everything to Woody, Liam and Quinn. I don’t want what happened to us, to happen to anyone else which is why people like P Diddy need to start helping. People listen to celebs.They need to start focusing on Childhood Cancer. It is worth fighting for with everything you have. Because what if it were your child? Wouldn’t you want to know, the best of everything was out there and the survival rates had improved?? Of course you would but this takes work, money, research, education, and dedication. All of those things seem so easily accessible when you look at these kids whom you are fighting for. Each and every one of them, are worth it and they need to stop being overlooked.

Yeah. That would be my rant and rave for the night. (shout out to AMBIEN) which I have not taken in weeks, but tonight, coming home to your empty bed about threw me over the edge. I needed a night to peace out. So, tomorrow is an all white day for me. That’s what I’m doing. I also might just take Ro’s Urn out with me everywhere I go. I’m kinda serious about that. I do need to invest in that baby Bjorn. Grocery store, here we come!!!

G’nite Ro baby. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. I’ve come to the conclusion that you were just too perfect and beautiful for this world, so you are someplace so much better… just waiting for me. I’ll see you when it’s my time. I love you, little man.

xoxo

I don’t need words. I just miss you.

Ronan. Yesterday went a little something like this: May 8th, the eve before you passed away. We went into town. It was raining cats and dogs. We all decided it was a good idea to see a movie so into the dark theatre we went. I was fidgety. I was anxious. I kept squirming in my seat. I ate a little popcorn. I had a huge wave of guilt wash over me, sitting in that movie theater, watching “The Avengers,” which is a movie you would have loved. Your daddy looked at me and said, “You can go. Go get a pedicure or something.” He didn’t have to say it twice. I up and bolted before we were even 10 minutes into the movie. I could not have run out of that theatre, fast enough. Out into the pouring down rain of the streets of Portland, Maine, was where I needed to be. Alone. I didn’t have an umbrella. I didn’t care. I just started walking, not knowing where I was, or what I was doing. I walked for a good 15 minutes before I finally found some random salon where I could soak my troubles away. I ran in the doors. “Do you do mani/pedis?” asking like my life depended on it. “We do.” the glossy girl behind the counter said to me. I was so thankful that they had an appointment open.

As I was sitting and waiting, a nice girl was waiting next to me. The conversation started because she was dying over the rain boots I was wearing. You know the ones. Those badass Hunter Wedge heel Rain Boots/my obsession that I never get to wear. I wore them yesterday and whenever I do, I have women stopping to ask me about them. She wanted to know where I got them. I told her. I also told her how excited I was to wear them, because I never get to. She asked where I was from and I told her. Then came the next question. “What are you doing here?” My eyes fell to the floor and the tears starting welling up. “Ummmm…. I stumbled over my words. Somehow I found them, but not without sobbing and apologizing everywhere. I barely got the words out of my mouth and this stranger started bawling too. She got up to give me a hug and told me how sorry she was. We ended up going back to the pedicure area together where we talked all about you. The poor girl that was doing my pedi was quiet as she listened and when I looked down, she too had tears pouring down her cheeks. She didn’t say much for a while. I not only noticed her tears, but the pretty purple shirt she was wearing. Of course it was purple. She finally looked up at me and told me all about her best friend, who had bone cancer. How she watched her struggle through it and how she was leaving for San Diego tomorrow, to go and visit her. I started crying harder. What is it about pedi/mani places, that I always end up crying the hardest? I guess I really miss you when I am there. I really miss you and how I would take you to get your toes painted sparkly and you were always so exited to show everyone at PCH. Sparkly toes for the most sparkly boy.

After my pedi of tears, I met back up with your Daddy and brothers. We went to grab some dinner at this place the girls in the salon told me about called, “Silly’s.” And silly it was. In the best way possible. You would have gone crazy over it. Quinn went crazy over the purple kool-aid that they just happened to be serving that day. Liam went crazy over the deck of cards they had in the special lunchbox on the table. Your daddy went crazy over the chocolate milkshake. I went crazy over the fried pickles. Fried pickles, Ro. Can you believe that one? You would have went crazy over them, with me. Your daddy pointed to a table of two girls that looked to be in high school. They were sitting at a table together, playing cards, drinking cokes. Your daddy kept saying, “This is totally a place you and Salina would have come and hung out. You two are such Jacksons.” (his word for silly) I smiled. I watched the two girls at their table. They reminded me of my youth. With my childhood bestie, Salina, and the world of complete and utter silliness that we created and always lived in. The two girls didn’t look silly though. They looked serious. Like the two of them lived in a world, where they were fighting for everything they had; but they were doing it together. It made me ache for my youth when everything was so uncomplicated and easy. Well, compared to now. I know the world of teenaged drama all too well. I remember the “problems,” I had back then. I look back now and know that they actually weren’t problems at all. They were lessons learned and part of growing up. I am thankful for all of them. As we finished up our food, your daddy took Quinn across the street to get some snacks. The waitress brought out check. I told her I would like to pay for the girls’ sitting across from us, as well, so to please put whatever they had, on our tab. She looked at me, wide-eyed. “Do you know them?” I just quietly told her I did not. I told her to give them 2 of your F U Cancer bracelets for me as well. She smiled and said she was sure they would be grateful. What I really hope is that they will just remember this small act of kindness and do something else nice, for somebody else someday, just because.

We all came home, tired from the days events. I tried to lay down but it was early. I don’t remember what happened next. The time you passed away, was getting closer and closer. You want to know something, Ro. I don’t know the exact time you died. I’ve been too scared to look at your death certificate. That makes this all too real. I think it was around 3:25 a.m. I know what time it was, that I sent my one and only text message, after you left to your Mr. Sparkly Eyes. It was 3:32 a.m. It simply said two words. “He’s gone.” 2 words, but so earth shattering. Two words, but how could there have been more? 2 words were all I needed because any other words I had, would not touch the fact that you had left this world. You leaving this world was enough to dim every single star in the sky for that night. I know the sky was covered in a blanket of black.

Your daddy lit a candle for you last night. Everyone fell asleep. I did not. I watched the candle flicker. I went in and out of sleep. 1 a.m. 2:30 a.m. 3:00 a.m. and I was wide awake.  3:32 a.m. came. I sent my only text message, once again, to our Mr. Sparkly Eyes.

Except exactly one year later. This time it read:

Fuc. (fuck you cancer)

I love you.
He loves you.

Always.

I cried. I fell asleep for a couple of hours. I had the most vivid dream about being back at PCH. You were dead. Dr. Adams was there with me. She was dressed in all purple and looked so stunning. She held me like a child and I just told her over and over how I wished I had not taken you to Dr. K. The rest of my dream just consisted of the both of us sobbing and I remember her purple dress being so bright and pretty. I woke up to my phone chirping like a bird alerting me of a text message from your lovie at around 5 a.m. I read it, cried again and fell back asleep until my phone rang around 8 a.m. I threw on my Uggs, warm sweater and ran outside to pick up the phone for the only person I knew I would be talking to, today. Your Sparkly. I ran out into the cold, fog, and drizzly rain. Of course the weather is this way, today. Of course it is.

“Hi.” I was already crying

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” the talking stopped and I just listened to your Sparkly cry.

I went quiet on my end and we sat there this way, on the phone for what felt like an eternity. Crying. Sobbing. What else could be said? No words were even necessary.

I babbled out a lot of “I don’t understand,” over and over. I babbled out a lot of why’s. Why him? “I’ll never understand this.”

I asked him, “How am I supposed to do, today?” in between my tears.

He said, “Don’t. Don’t do today. Spend the day in bed. Have a fuck it all day because this is fucking bullshit and there is no explanation.”

I told him I couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to Liam and Quinn.

“O.k. then. Go play in the sand. Do something that Ro would have loved to do. Who cares if it is raining. It should be raining. It should be raining, everywhere.”

“Alright. I will do my best.”

” I will check in on you later, o.k.?

“O.k.” I said.

“My heart is broken for you. I’m sorry.”

I crawled back into bed for a couple of hours. I knew I had a long day ahead of me and I had already felt like I had run a marathon.

I’m ending this right here, Ro. I’m tired. I don’t know if I can write much more about all the went on today. I will try, later.

I love you. I miss you. I hope you are safe. I am so sorry, baby doll.

xoxo