The Chaos and The Calm

Ronan. What have you been doing? I miss you so much, baby. I don’t know where you are, who is taking care of you, what you are up to. I worry about you so much. All day and night. I’m still looking for you, everywhere. I went to Sedona, for the grief retreat. I’m back home now. I wish you were too. It’s so strange, being here without you.

Saturday was the day of the actual seminar. It started at 9:30 and lasted until 4:30, I think. I don’t remember much of it. There were about 16 other bereaved parents there. All with different/similar stories. Nobody there had lost their baby to cancer. Some had lost their babies very early on, at birth. Others had lost their children, tragically, in accidents or just suddenly because life is not fair, and death does not discriminate. We are all part of the same club. The club that nobody wants to be a part of. The fuckthisshitinowhavetoliveonthisearthwithoutmychildandidon’twantto club. It is not a fun club to be a member of. Nobody in that room on Saturday, wanted to out live their child. Everybody in that room on Saturday, would have traded places with their babies, in a heartbeat. But the choice was not theirs. They are still here, on this earth, fighting for their loved ones that were taken much too soon.

As soon as I got there, I felt uneasy. I went into shut down mode. We had to go around the room and tell a little about our story and what we hoped to achieve by being there. I don’t remember much about what I said. I was sobbing. I somehow managed to get out a little about you, in between my sloppy tears falling everywhere. I think I said out loud that I was only there because I don’t want to live this life anymore, without you. I don’t remember seeing anybody’s faces while I was sobbing/talking. I just remember wanting to run out of the room, so badly. I didn’t want to be there, having something like this in common, with all of those strangers. I wanted to close my eyes, snap my fingers, and hop into my time machine that would take me back to living life with you. I begged for our hospital life together. I begged for our Ryan House life together. I begged for anything but being where I was, on Saturday, as long as it involved being with you. I closed my eyes, wished for those things only to open them up and see that I was surrounded by the saddest faces I had ever seen in my life. The faces of 16 other me’s. I pinched myself, to make sure I was not dreaming. I felt the pinch and was taken slam bam right back into my reality. This cruel reality of being here without you. The reality that I would trade any day, for anything but this. I’ll never stop asking why this could not have been me. You deserved to be here so much more, than I do. What a cruel world we live in, that would take the life of you. You had so much to give. You were going to be so many things. I am trying really hard to carry on the beautiful life you would have lived by trying to make a difference in this world. It is so very hard, Ro. You would have done this, so effortlessly. You would have done it with one little wink from your blue eye. Your one little wink, would have changed the world.

After we all went around the room, we moved on to something else. I think we were supposed to be meditating about something. All I could do was pull my knees up to my chest, and cry. I couldn’t focus on anything else. Dr. Jo had been watching me closely since I had arrived. She came over to me and wrapped her arms around me. I told her I wanted to leave. She said she knew and continued to hold me and let me cry all over her. I think she held me for a good 20 minutes, while I went through an entire box of kleenex, snot, and tears. I really don’t remember much about anything else except I think the times I did talk, I said the word fuck a lot. I told the group about the name I had come up for my Grief. Inferno Fuckwad Bob. I think I got some laughs out of it. I truly did spend the entire 7 hours crying. It was painful but so very necessary. I have learned that I have become very good at distracting my grief. I needed to take that day and just cry about you, without stopping. I could have cared less if I was in a room, full of people I didn’t know. I knew they could relate to my pain. They all knew that I was only 5 months out of having had lost you. I was the newbie in the group. The one who had just lost their child, a very short time ago. They all remembered what it was like, being so new to all of this. They were gentle with me and didn’t expect anything. Many of them were surprised that I was even there at all, having all of this be so painful and fresh. Many of them said it took them years to deal with what I am trying to deal with. Which is my grief, I guess. I don’t even know if this is what I am doing as I seem to be stuck on a fucking merry-go-round that I cannot get off of. Round and Round and Round she goes, where ever she stops, nobody knows! Nobody does know. Not even myself at this point. I’ve always hated that fucking ride. And that song.

I met two mama’s in our group. Mama’s that both lost their kids to horrific car accidents. Mama’s who did not know each other, before losing their babies. Mama’s who now have a bond so deep and strong, it is as if they are twins. I didn’t talk to them much, except to learn that one of them had emailed me about wanting to do something for your Foundation. Very random that we both happened to be at this retreat. This mama, does a yearly Tea for her Ellie, who was killed by a drunk driver. She wanted to talk about how she had heard about your story and was wanting to hold the tea in your honor, this year. We exchanged phone numbers and hugs. I wanted to talk to these two mama’s more but I was so emotionally drained that I am surprised I was even able to peel myself up off of the floor and into my car to drive back to my hotel. Before I left, Dr. Jo asked if I wanted to do something with her later. I smiled and told her I would love that and I would call her after I got back to the hotel and rested for a bit. I somehow made it to my hotel, changed clothes and washed my face. I send Dr. Jo a text that said I was ready when she was. She offered to come and pick me up. I gladly accepted.

We went to her house to hang out. It is so perfectly her and I fell in love, instantly. She showed me her home office and her built-in bookshelf that I swear had thousands of books in it. I said to her, I’ll bet you’ve read all of these. She smiled that humble smile of hers and said she had. The brains inside of that woman’s head are something not of this world. Because it is not only her brains that she uses to think with, but her heart and soul as well. That is a very rare combination to find in a person in this day and age. We sat outside, underneath some twinkling lights, and the fresh Sedona air. My brain was pretty much fried but we talked for a couple of hours. About everything, but mostly you. About you and me. Me and you. Us. It was peaceful. I think I even laughed a couple of times. I never laugh anymore and it felt so nice. I don’t have any of my walls up whatsoever with Dr. Jo. There are only a few people in this world that I am able to be like this with anymore. She is one of them. She is the puller, not the pusher. She knows what to do with me, when nobody else, does. I trust that. I trust her. She trusts me. That right there, is everything to me. Plus, the fact that she is a super bad-ass, like the two of us, Ro. Brains, beauty, and badassness. That is a combo not to messed with. If not for her, I can guarantee you, I would not be functioning at all.

Dr. Jo dropped me off back at my hotel around 9:30. As I got out of her car I looked at her, smiled and said, “JoRo.” Her name and yours. A perfect fit like it was always meant to be. Like you have been leading me to her, this entire time. I left her car feeling more peaceful than I have since you left me. Even if the feeling, only lasted for a couple of hours, I was still so grateful. As soon as I got to the room, my head hit the pillow and I was out like a light. I did not even take my Ambien. In fact, I have not taken it in 3 nights. I’ve been able to sleep alright, without it. I have been dreaming, very vividly. I have been dreaming very vividly of everything except you. This makes me so very sad. I just want to see your face. I just want you to tell me you are all right. I just want to hear you tell me, you love me and miss me. You are visiting everyone, but me. Dr. Jo thinks it’s because I want to see you, so much that I cannot. I am fearful that I will never see you in my dreams, because I wish for this all the time. I would give anything to have you visit me. I know you know this. I think I am too caught up in this pain, to let my head clear enough for you to get to me. The pain that is only becoming worse, Ro. Everyday is harder and harder without you.

Sunday was our barefoot hike day. It was just me, Dr. Jo and a Daddy. We headed up the mountain, in silence. At one point, Dr. Jo and I stopped to wait for our other warrior Daddy friend and I whispered to her, that I never did things like this. Like hiking in silence. I told her that I always had my music blaring and loud. She told me it was much easier to be in chaos than calm. She is so spot on. It is so hard to be in the calm for me. Distractions everywhere. The louder the better. The busier the better. It takes courage to be in the calm. I have no idea, what it truly means to be courageous yet. I have a lot of work to do, little man. I have a lot to learn from Dr. Jo. I know you will help me. The barefoot hike was amazing. I felt nothing except for very connected to the earth and I was reminded of my capabilities as a human being. As your mama. I cried for you on that hike. I thought about how much you would have loved coming up that mountain, with me. The thought of not having you there, destroyed me. I looked for you anyway.

Ro baby. I wish I could write to you, for 2 more hours. I have so much left to tell you but I can hardly keep my eyes open. I’m going to have to finish the rest of this tomorrow. It is then that I will tell you the rest of my stories. About how much your brothers miss you. About how I sat and held Quinn as he sobbed for you last night. About how I sobbed with him and told him over and over how sorry I was. About Ellie’s mama. About my Fry’s Shopping experience today and how I was a mad woman crying all over that damn store and then had a “talk,” with the manager about the NO CHILDHOOD CANCER AWARENESS anywhere for September. She must have thought I was a lunatic. I don’t care. She gave me the phone number, to someone higher up than her. I’m on a freaking mission, baby.

I love you. I miss you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, baby doll.

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.


Losing you is like somebody just turned all the lights off

Ronan. I had a bad day. A day where I didn’t get out of bed until 1 or so this afternoon. I am in a funk and I can’t seem to shake it. I cannot shake being in this condo, which as I told you before, is exactly like the one we stayed in when you were so little. Everywhere I turn, I expect you to come running into the room. I think about you 24 hours a day. Today, everywhere we went, I was reminded of you. I hope someday this makes me happy, but as of now, it only brings me to tears. We had a family day out today. Once I was able to get myself out of bed that is. I tried so hard to enjoy life today, but the screaming in my head kept me from doing so. I can put on a good enough show to fool your brothers though. Thank god I’m such an amazing actress.

We took your brothers for pizza and wound up at the movies and saw, “Kung Foo Panda 2,” together. Seeing a movie used to be one of my favorite things to do. Now, it is so hard for me to sit still and focus on a thing and I was so grateful when your daddy asked for a refill for our soda,  so I could be the one to get up and get it. Before all of this, it was always your daddy’s job to refill our pop for us. Just something silly that I would always insist on him doing. Now, I happily was the one to do this for him tonight. I was crawling out of my skin during that movie. At one point, I started to cry. I was sitting between your daddy and Quinn. Quinn was holding my hand and saw the tears. He just took my hand and kissed it. I kissed the top of his head and told him I loved him. The movie was actually really cute. I know you would have loved it. It was all about finding your inner peace to be the best you can be in life. What I wouldn’t give for that. I used to have total inner peace. It is so hard to finally achieve that in life and then to have it ripped away over circumstances that you have no control over. You were the creator of my inner peace. You completed it all. Will I now forever be tortured, destroyed, and half of a person?? Walking around so numb and in so much pain that I am just thankful to make it though another day without you just so I can go to sleep in hopes of seeing you. Because that is what my life is now. I am trying my best to find the joy in the beautiful things that surround me, but the world seems so ugly without you. It’s as if the blue sky has disappeared, the birds have stopped singing, and the sun has stopped shining. I am thinking I am becoming severely depressed as I’m so tired of this life without you.

We are not going to Washington this summer to see Nana and Papa. It’s the first time that I haven’t been home during the summer in 18 years. Washington summers, especially after I had you boys, has always been one of my favorite places in the world. And to think last year, when we were there, your little body was so invaded with cancer. And we had no idea. We had the BEST time, just soaking up nature and enjoying the simplicity that comes with being there. It has always been such a peaceful place for me but this year, the thought of going there is much too painful for me to process. I’m so sad about missing the time with your Nana and Papa Jim as having you boys there for the summer makes their entire year. I feel like I’ve let your brothers down as they have been asking to go. I told them maybe for Fall Break. I tried to explain why I can’t take them there, but I don’t think they truly understand. I suppose anywhere we go, is going to be painful. But for some reason the thought of going to Washington without you is something I am not ready for. To be in my old bedroom, from when I was a teenager, where we spent every year, for the past 3 years together, snuggled up in my old bed…… I just can’t do it as of now. I don’t have the strength and that whole inner peace thing that I am now lacking would eat me alive if I were there. I’m sad about it and you know how much I am going to miss the time with Nana and Papa Jim. It is the first summer of missing so many things. Most of all, you.

So, I started reading this book called, “Growing up in Heaven.” I’m about 60 pages into it and I am really trying to keep an open mind about it as well as the author, as he claims to be a Medium whom can bring to light the journey of children who have passed from earth to heaven. You know I am all for that Medium stuff and I was hoping this book would give me some peace of mind. The first chapter or so, I was really getting into it. I then made the mistake of Googling this James Van Praagh guy as I was convinced that I needed to seek him out, asap, so he could help me get to you. Bad idea. As soon as I got to this guys website, I was instantly turned off. There was NOTHING authentic about it. It’s all glitz and glamour…. and it felt fake and phony. But guess what? For the small price of 4 grand, I can take a cruise with this dude and he will do a reading for me! I think I said it best when I sent a text today and it said how I was reading this book and how I was about to call BULLSHIT on James Van Praagh and his exceptional gift for communicating with the dead. So, I’m guilty. I’m totally judging a book by it’s cover. I’m a skeptic. Not because I don’t believe in things like this, because I truly do think that there are many people who are blessed with extra spiritual gifts in this world. But this man is talking about how the child’s spirit just comes to him and he is able to see them plain as day. I wish I could say thank you to this man because according to him, you are up in heaven, where everything is white and colorful, riding a fucking Shetland pony, all while getting an education AND helping others. If he would have left shit like that out, I may have bought what this guy is selling. Some of what he says, seems to be spot on with what I believe in about a person’s soul…. but the other stuff just seems like smoke and mirrors to me. He sure does have the part down about the grieving parent role though. Although, it is not rocket science. No shit that I feel like I have lost my identity, that I am in a robotic state, that I am numb. And no shit that physical fitness is a wonderful way to deal with stages of grief because I HAD NO IDEA that exercise releases endorphins into the bloodstream! This guy  is a genius!!! Oh Ro….. I have no idea where this feistiness from me has come from tonight…. you must be hanging around, channeling it into me. I loved it when I would call you feisty and you would scream back to me, “I NOT SPICY!” Still makes me laugh on the inside all of the time. I miss your little voice and how you would call me, “Mama.” Never mommy or Mom. Always mama. I miss it so much.

Anyway, back to the book baby. I’m being awful about it. But I’m going to finish it and I hope that I do end up believing in this guy because I would love nothing more, besides the obvious like you coming back, than to think that you are up in heaven, playing with your pony, helping others, and that you are so happy and free. I would love for that to be the truth because if you cannot be here with me, that is exactly where I would want you to be. Except the pony thing is a little weird. I’d rather have you playing with Master Yoda and Captain Rex instead.

I’m tired tonight my sweet boy. I’m going to take my Ambien and go to sleep with your brother, Quinn, who is right next to me. I love you so much. To the moon and back, forever and ever. Just you and me. Sweet dreams my monkey. I hope you are safe. You are forever loved.