It’s time.

Ronan. I’ve written to you a couple of times these past couple of nights but I think the words have been writing have been really, really dark and angry. I haven’t finished them and I don’t feel like finishing them now because for the first night in a very long time, I am not in a dark and angry place. I feel hopeful and a bit peaceful. I have to start accepting some things Ronan, in order to move forward and to get out of the arms of grief that seems to be strangling me. I have to accept the fact that you are never coming back and as for much as that kills me, it is a fact. No matter how much I sit here and scream, cuss, cry and beg….. you are not coming back. Acceptance is the first step, yes? I have to start to accept this so I can take this anger, pain, and sadness to a positive place. Yes. I said it. Positive. I know it may seem like I love the dark, negative space that seems to consume me, Ro. But I do not. It’s not me. It’s never been a part of me or who I am. Do you know how much I struggle with this new found emotion? Anger? It’s foreign to me, Ronan. Anger, bitterness, jealously, resentment….. those words didn’t exist in my vocabulary before this. I am afraid they are going to destroy me as I don’t know what to do with them. They are so powerful, they are trying to take over my entire life. They fill my head with so much noise during the day that much of my days are spent just trying to quiet them down. The fighting in my head is constant. I’m trying to get a handle on it. To use this anger in a positive way. I know it may not seem like it by the words I write, but I want my life to be full of positive things and not so dark. I really, really do. To have some light come out of this darkness. To take all of this anger and turn it into something that is so powerful, that it can change the world and the way people live their lives. To help change the outcome of childhood cancer. But we both know this is about so much more then just cancer, Ronan. Because you were so much more, then cancer. I’ve got to start thinking about how to channel this anger in a new direction. I have ordered a punching bag and some boxing gloves. I guess this is a start. My best ideas seem to come in the middle of blood, sweat and tears while my endorphins are running.

I had my board meeting tonight, baby. It was almost 4 hours long. I had it at our house and it was lovely. For as much as I don’t know what I am doing, you would have been so proud tonight. Because I am figuring it out with the 4 most beautiful women that exist. It was a board meeting that was full of everything you. It was a board meeting where I sat back and watched as these 4 women made me feel like we really are going to turn your foundation into something that is so beautiful and pure, that it is going to change the face of childhood cancer. It is so easy for me to slip into the dark world of I don’t need anybody because I can do this alone. But the truth is it doesn’t feel good and I can’t. You know what felt good tonight? Listening to the way we hashed out our agenda for our meeting. The way we talked about the things we need to overcome and figure out. The way we brainstormed ideas and answers. The way we worked as a team. The way I saw all four of our lovelies eyes, sparkle as they talked about you and how much they believe in you and what we are going to do. They way I felt the love that surrounded me the entire evening. I don’t allow myself to get lost in the love part of life very often anymore. It felt so very nice and I think I should try to allow it in a little more often. To live in constant pain and agony is destroying me, baby. And I know it’s not how you wish for me to be. I know this. I wish I didn’t have to have this foundation because you got sick and died from cancer. But I do and I realized tonight that this part of what is going to help heal me. I have to start to heal a little, Ronan. It’s time.

To my lovely of loveliest board members,

Thank you for tonight. Thank you for believing in me, when I sometimes forget to believe in myself. Thank you for reminding me that I am capable and worthy of feeling the love that surrounds me. Thank you for helping me take my son and not letting the “him,” get lost in all of this. Thank you for making this as important to you, as it is me. Thank you for making me feel like he was all around us tonight…. I felt him everywhere. I know he is so proud of this board that we have created. It is perfect. I love you all so very much.

I’m sleepy tonight, Ronan. Without my Ambien. I love you to the moon and back. Sweet dreams. I hope you are safe.

xoxo

Somebody wake me up when this bloody holiday is over.

Ronan. I am really, really hoping that I am not truly losing my mind from the pain of losing you. I am really, really, hoping that this pain, which is already intolerable, only feels as if as if it is on steroids, just due to the fact that Christmas is almost here. I am trying hard to be logical about this. Who cares about stupid Christmas? Why is it because Christmas is here, that it is making this 10 times harder than normal? I have been doing a lot of talking to myself because Inferno Fuckwad Bob is trying to completely take over. I had this conversation in my head tonight about how much pressure the holidays bring anyway when you are a normal human being. Now, try doing these holidays when your child is dead. I am trying not to panic about the many reactions my body is having…… which I swear I have no control over. The throwing up. The blurry vision. The headaches. The insomnia. The racing of my heart. The shaking of my hands. The way I can’t seem to breathe. The way every part of my body hurts. Even the tips of my fingers. I feel like I should be admitted to a hospital. Can’t they sedate me and put me on oxygen, too? So I can breathe a little more easily? Can’t they just put me to sleep for about a week? I deserve a little break from this or else I am going to crack. Maybe I am starting to crack and these are the warning signs.

No amount of physical exhaustion is helping either. And it normally does. This morning I got up early and met Mandy Bee for a workout at some place she goes. I don’t remember much of it except we did a lot of picking up heavy tires, ropes, and punched a boxing bag. Afterwords, I was shaky and I hopped in her car as she talked me into going to Starbucks. I think she was really afraid to let me up and just drive home as I know she saw the sheer look of terror in my eyes. She drove me to Starbucks but she had to pull over right in front so I could run into the bathroom because I told her I was going to throw up. I did. A whole lot of liquid as I had nothing else in my stomach. I brushed my teeth in that Starbucks bathroom as I now carry a toothbrush with me everywhere because I am so used to this happening. We sat outside and drank our coffee and made small talk with some south african guy. The small talk turned into the how many kids do you have, question. I let Mandy answer first. My turn next. Lucky me. “Two eight year olds. And an almost 4-year-old who just passed away.” Good thing the dude was wearing sunglasses so I didn’t have to see the look in his eyes. I’ll never get used to saying this to people when they ask this question to me now. I always take a minute to answer and think to myself….”There has got to be a better way, to say this.” Turns out, there is not. It will never just roll off of my tongue.

I found myself on my bedroom floor today, huddled in the corner of my room and on the phone with Dr. JoRo, bawling so hard I don’t think she could even understand much of what I was saying. I told her how I couldn’t breathe, how I wanted to just go to sleep, and how tired I was of everything. I stayed this way for about 10 minutes. I then told her I had to go because it was time to be a mom and I was taking your brothers rock climbing. I had to play the good mommy role and suck it up. All I wanted to do was crawl into my bed and not come out. I didn’t though. I sucked it up and pulled myself together as they were so excited to be off and doing something with me. We went with Kristi and her gorgeous girls. I loved watching your brothers as they tried something new. I tried not to let the fact that you weren’t there with us, ruin everything. I made myself climb to the top of that rock wall today. Actually, Kristi really made me do it as I was content to just sit and watch your brothers. I was glad she did. I was halfway up and decided to turn around and look down. Bloody hell it was high up there. I almost stopped and turned around. A vision of your face flashed in front of me and I looked up and made myself continue on, to the very top until I touched the metal little pole that proved I did it. I know you were proud. As Kristi said, one more thing on my little list, checked off. I thought to myself…… yes indeed. But I wondered how long I could really keep all of this up. I’m still glad to have that little check mark off of my list. I did it for you and for your brothers. Because they deserve to have a mom who hasn’t completely checked out. I know I am being hard on myself but I also know that your brothers saw me as I cried in the car all the way home. I wish I could hide my pain from them all the time, but sometimes it is impossible. It is so hard to look them in the eyes when it is so visible to them, that I am hurting so badly. No 8-year-old should have to watch their mama wiping away the never-ending tears. But no 8-year-old should have to ever watch their best friend and baby brother, die of cancer either. It is all fucking bullshit.

We came home tonight to your daddy. I ran to the bathroom where I threw up the dinner I tried to eat. I took a bath and crawled into bed. Your daddy, sat with me and just held my hand while I stared blankly at the wall as the hot stinging tears poured down my cheeks and soaked my pillow. He took your brothers out to run some errands. I fell asleep for about 30 minutes. I jumped up, startled, when my body realized that I had fallen asleep and reminded me of how wrong everything is in this life now, including things like sleep. No rest for the weary.

I love you. I’m sorry. I miss you so very much. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, baby doll. I love you to the moon and back.

xoxo

A Dangerous Day Indeed

Ronan. Today, I lived. I lived and I didn’t feel like dying for the first time, in a long time. But I am still aware of the reason it is, that I am trying to live this life to the fullest. I am aware that it is because of your death, that I have no choice but to go on and try to live this life now that I am without you. That is a heavy things to carry around with you, when you are just trying to survive. It weighs you down but at some point, you just have to try to get used to carrying this weight around with you now. Because it is never going away. I met Mandy Bee, Kristi and her friend, Jacqueline, at Scottsdale Gun Club. I’ve never shot a gun before in my life. Well, that is not totally true. I’ve shot a bb gun a few times. I think I tried to shoot my little brother once, when we were little with one. But that is the extent of my gun experience. Today, I had no idea of the awesomeness I was in for. I should have known just due to the company that I was in. We arrived, Mandy and I had to watch a little video before we got started. Kristi and Jacqueline are pros. Jacqueline has been shooting guns since she was 9. Badass. We made some pretty little targets to shoot at. Most of them said, “Fuck You Cancer.” or “Cancer is an Asshole.” I made one, for a specific person, who shall remain nameless. But it felt the best when I was shooting my machine gun, at this sign. I also made one for Inferno Fuckwad Bob. Jo would have loved that. We shot a couple different machine guns, a pistol…. I have no idea of the actual names of these guns. All I know is it was the best therapy I’ve had in a long time. I took out a lot of aggression and anger today on those targets. I felt empowered. I am woman, hear me roar.  I told Woody I want a machine gun, for Christmas. I was joking, of course. But that is how I feel. Like life is so fucked up that I should just be able to walk around and carry a machine gun with me at all times. To kill all the zombies that are trying to eat me. You would have loved today, baby doll. I know I made you proud. Check mark number 1 for your little bucket list  that I am going to carry out for you. Thank you K,M and J for today. It was a day that Ronan would have loved.

After our little Baby Danger outing, Mandy Bee and I went and grabbed some lunch. I told her I was freaking out because I hadn’t worked out today, so I was going to go home and try to get in a run before I grabbed the boys. She told me I should just come over and I could workout at her house. She said she would teach me to box. Sign me up! Another thing, I’ve never done. We got to her house and changed. She has a punching bag hanging in her garage. I told you this crazy stalker girl, is my kind of girl;) One that keeps a punching bag hanging from the ceiling of her garage because she likes to take her aggression out on things that she can hit. It was pouring outside. We turned on some loud music and bootcamp Mandy was in full effect. She yelled at things for me to do. I did them. After about 20 minutes of doing whatever she told me, it was time for my little punching lesson. I put on her gloves. I tried to focus on my form and breathing. Mandy held the bag and screamed a lot of fuck words for me. It was hard. Really hard. Next I took off the gloves. It was time to hit the bag, with my forearms. I can’t remember what Mandy called it and I didn’t care. All I knew is I was beating the shit out of something and I didn’t want to stop. I continued. She told me that was enough. I told her no. I wanted more. She told me to look at my arms. They were all scraped, bloody, red, bruised. I told her I didn’t care. It didn’t hurt me. She let me go another round. She had to pull me away. We worked out in the pouring down rain. I didn’t have shoes because I had worn my boots earlier in the day. So we were both barefoot. After our kicking workout in the rain, we went on a run. Barefoot. We came back to her house. I told her I wanted to punch the fucking bag again. She let me but finally told me enough was enough. She wasn’t going to let me hurt myself anymore for the day. I felt like what I bet a crack addict feels like. I wanted more. My bruised and bloody arms, told a different story. I can hardly wait for my next little punching lesson. I really did tell Woody that I want a punching bag and boxing gloves for Christmas. Preferably purple.

You know how I am when I say I’m doing to do something, Ronan. I don’t half ass it. Today, I didn’t do just one thing I’d never done before. I did three. I told Tricia this and she laughed and said, can’t we just ease into this and your new danger plan? I told her no. I’m already plotting as to what next week has in store. Although your brothers will be out of school for break, so I’m going to have to get creative so I can include them too.

I’m tired tonight. Sore. I spent the rest of the evening, feeling sick to my stomach due to the crazy Mandy Bee Bootcamp. It’s still raining. Pouring. I hope it never stops. I love you. Today, I missed your smile so much that it took my breath away. You have the most beautiful smile baby. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams my little wild and free soul. I hope you saw all I did today and you know it was all for you. Always for you. G’nite.

xoxo