Ronan. I am currently watching your Poppy sister play in her crib. At almost 6 months old, she has still not spent a night alone. Is that bad? I’m not sure as I had all 3 of you boys in your cribs from pretty much the time that you came home from the hospital. Babies in our beds happened sometimes, but not all the time like we are doing with this Poppy girl. Your daddy has been saying lately that it’s time for Poppy to go in her crib. I do my best, “No way, never happening” rant. It usually goes a little something like this, “Kids who sleep in their cribs, die. I’ve sat in support groups where I’ve heard at least 3 stories of 8 month old babies who just up and die. She’s not going in her crib, to die.” The part about the stories I’ve heard are true, and although I’ll admit I’m being a little dramatic, I’m not about to be separated through the night from your Poppy sister.
My mind never gets to be naïve anymore and I am more than paranoid. Here is another example of how fucked up and crazy it is to live inside of my head. I was out to breakfast with Fernanda and Stacy the other morning and Fernanda was standing up with Poppy, bouncing her to sleep. She started to sing her “Silent Night.” You know, the song I always sang to you, before you got sick. I completely freaked out. “YOU CANNOT SING THAT SONG TO HER! THAT SONG IS JINXED! IT’S THE SONG OF DEATH!” Fernanda and Stacy both just looked at me like I had 8 heads. “Sing her Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, like you used to do for Ronan, instead!” Poor Fernanda started singing “Twinkle Twinkle” and Stacy just looked at me and rolled her eyes. I didn’t want to get into the whole song thing, but I remember when you first got sick how I told Tricia and Marisa something crazy about that song. “I always sang him ‘Silent Night.” Is that because he’s going to die and now the nights are going to be silent without him?” They both told me that was not the case, but here we are today. I know “Silent Night,” did not have anything to do with your death, but what if it was the world’s way of telling me you were actually going to die. These are the fun things I get to think about now. No “Silent Night” singing for Poppy allowed.
The Gold Party came and went and I still feel like I am recovering emotionally from it. It was beautiful and sparkly, just the way you would have liked it. I spent the night with my most favorite people, minus a few who couldn’t make it. It truly was such a beautiful night. The night ended with me saying to Stacy and Fernanda, “I feel like Ronan would really want us to jump in the pool.” After a little Stacy magic which meant talking to the amazing W people who were in charge of the event, that is precisely what we did, in our fancy clothes into the pool we went. It was me, Stacy, Fernanda, and your Fairy RoMo. We laughed, swam a lap, and I sat at the end of the pool and cried with Fernanda. I said things like, “I still can’t believe he is gone.” I’ll never get over the shock of this all or come to terms with any of this. This reality never becomes any easier no matter how much time passes by. Everything hurts just as much, Ronan. But in that pool swimming laughing/crying moment, I still felt so thankful for all the beautiful people you have put in our lives. I am a lucky, lucky girl in that regard.
I’m doing my best here, but sometimes everything I am doing, takes a toll. Besides just how much I miss you, I really miss just being able to be a mom and that’s it. I am in a constant state of feeling like I am being pulled in a thousand different directions. I am about to scream, “TIME OUT!!” and run away to New York. I know that is not the answer, but sometimes I wish it were that easy. I’ve been getting a lot of emails about this blog and my not writing as much. A lot of you are worried and asking questions like, “Is this the end of the blog, because you are not updating it as much!” I don’t think I will ever stop writing this blog, but it is going to have to go on the back burner for a while as my book writing, running a foundation, and being a mom to a new baby, takes up any free time that I may have. It makes me sad as this blog has been my outlet and my therapy, for so long. I promise to get back to it when I can, but for now, other things have to take priority. I used to do all of my writing really late at night, but it seems that I cannot get enough sleep lately. That means, come 9:00 p.m., I am sound asleep with Poppy. Until that 3:30 a.m. witching hour comes about, then I am up, but I am usually playing catch up on emails or foundation things that I HAVE to get done. This leaves not much time for blog writing. I promise to try to be a little better as I do miss this and all of you, very much.
My grief has also been being ignored, which is not good. How is it that I am too busy, to be still with my grief? I’ll tell you how.
A new baby
Having two 10 year olds who are in 3 different sports/homework/projects that are never-ending
Trying to be a wife
Running a house
Trying to keep up with friendships and maintaining them. Being a friend while being a bereaved parent is REALLY hard work. Luckily, the friends I have, who have stayed around, are seriously the best. They are not even friends anymore, as I consider them family
Having a brother who I’m in a constant state of worry about
Trying to get back into a good exercise routine as bye bye baby weight is in full effect around here because my skinny jeans are just sitting there, taunting me in my closet. I know, I know, priorities and this one seems pretty stupid, but it goes back to my childhood and dad who was always calling my mom not very nice names. I obviously have deeply rooted issues thanks to this.
That leaves pretty much 0 time to spend with myself and with my grief. I tried to get up to Sedona this weekend, to see Dr. Jo, but it just didn’t work out. So, what’s a girl to do because I know what happens when I ignore my grief. I turn into a complete basket case who likes to take too much Ambien. Wait, before you freak out, that was the old, really broken and shattered me. Not the new mom to a baby, I know I cannot do that anymore and I would never, ever even take one, let alone 5. I am going to make a game plan this week with Dr. Jo about how I can get back to just being still with everything, even if that just means I do it while I am hiking with Poppy. If that’s the only time I get to be still, it’s better than nothing.
One more thing. Thanks to the Phoenix Coyotes, we now have some money to be more consistent about doing the Candy Cart at PCH. We have decided to start doing it once a month, which I am super excited about. If any of you have any non candy goodies, you would like to send my way, that would be awesome. We also bring things for the kids who cannot eat so they do not feel left out. Things like toys, books, coloring books, stickers, crayons… you get the idea. Everything must be new and not used. Please send to the P.O. Box where all of the foundation things get delivered. The address is below.
The Ronan Thompson Foundation
P.O. Box 44935
Thank you all so much for bearing with me during this quiet time and respecting that I am trying to do my best, I am just feeling a little overwhelmed right now.
It’s almost 9:00 which means I’m done for the day. Time to curl up with this Poppy girl.
G’nite Ronan. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe.
Because we have had such a huge request for more tickets, we have also decided that we will be selling a limited number of tickets at the door on the night of the event. If you don’t want to risk not being able to get in, you can buy tickets at the link below.
See you all, Friday night!!
Ronan. Somehow, life is still just going on without you. I’m not so sure how this just continues to happen, but it does. Right now, I am listening to the chitter chatter of your daddy and brothers as they root for the Raiders football team while watching the game in the other room. Poppy is sound asleep beside me and I just spent the entire day lost in her little coo’s and giggles. I catch myself a lot, stopping dead in my tracks after feeling myself feel the happiness she brings to my life. Happiness that exists without you here, but trust me, its not guilt free or the kind of happiness I used to have back when your little feet would go pitter patter across the floor. This happiness comes with a very heavy price that never goes away. This happiness, feels heavy as the absence of you is never far from my mind, heart, body, or soul. This happiness is heavy.
Your daddy just took your brothers to play basketball except Quinn who came in to tell me goodbye, decided not to go because he saw the tears rolling down my cheeks. The tears of this is all sometimes too much, the tears of all the other kids that I know who are going through this, the tears of the parent’s like us, who are left with a dead child due to this world that is a fucking crap shoot if you survive because it really is all just a game of Russian roulette. And when you lose, you lose big time. There are no do overs or second chances no matter how loudly you scream and cry and call out your dead child’s name at the top of a mountain because you think if you scream it loudly enough, he will come home. Not home as in fucking heaven, but home as in back into your arms, where your child belongs. Where you belong with me and should have been with me until I was the one old and dying, not you, young and dying while I watched you take your last breaths.
Every single day I take your brothers to school, I drive past the cutest little house with the most perfect little tire swing in the front yard. I crank my neck as far as it will go, to try to get a peek into this little world of the tire swing house. Sometimes, I see the mom coming out of it, pushing her other kids in the stroller. I think to myself, remember when I had the tire swing life. The memories of bliss come flooding in but are usually followed by hot tears as what once was, but never will be again. It takes me a minute to regroup and give myself the little pep that I often have to do. The one of you have x, y, and z and you need to be thankful for that which is such a bullshit pep talk. I know I have x, y, and z, but it does not make this pain, any less or any of this right.
Last week, I was taking your brothers to school and we were running late so I just dropped them at the cross walk. As I was slowly trying to navigate my way through traffic, a lady who was passing me motioned for me to roll down my window. I had never seen her before and just as I rolled my window down I heard her yell, “YOU GO GIRL! YOU KEEP FIGHTING CANCER!” This caught me off guard as well as made me laugh. You see, it’s moments like this when I am so caught up in my “I’m just a grieving mom role” when those little pushes and words of encouragement help me out the most. Sometimes I forget what I am actually doing because all I know is I’m just really, really sad and lost without you. But things like this help me to see that I must be doing something right for this stranger off the street to yell these words to me. I think I’m going to have a tee-shirt made up that say those exact same words, just to remind me that I am kicking ass and taking names and I can do this no matter how sad I might be.
This Friday night is our second annual Gold Party. Your Nana is coming into town as well as Macy, Rachel, Charisma, and your Fairy RoMo. It’s going to be such a wonderful weekend full of all of my favorite people. I am going to do my best to make it such a wonderful, sparkly night all for the sake of you. It’s always in my head that this party is for you, and for all the people who love and support this cause. This party is my way of saying thank you to all the people out there, who love you and are supporting all that we are trying to do. Although the reason for this party is sad and so beyond fucked up and wrong, I promise you that I will wear the biggest smile on my face for the night and hope that you are watching all that I am doing to try to make you proud. I love you so much little man and I will never stop screaming or crying for you. I promise to always try my hardest to make the wrongest things, somewhat right.
Alright little man, this is all I can do for tonight. I have been wiped out lately and my pillow is calling my name, even at this early hour. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe.
Ronan. When I’m not writing to you on the blog, I feel like a bad mom to you. I’m hard on myself and fuck, I just plain miss this. I cannot keep up with everything that is going on and life seems to running at an outrageous speed. So much has happened and so much is going on that I don’t even know what to address first. First things first, Ronan. I am so overwhelmed with every aspect in my life right now that I feel like a breakdown might be in order, just because I fucking deserve one. I keep telling myself, I have to get through September first, but I truly don’t know if I can wait that long.
So, where to start? The most important thing of course that has been consuming me. It started with that phone call from your Mr. Sparkly Eyes while I was out in the Hampton’s with your Poppy sister. That phone call that I know he did not want to make, for fear of “ruining our trip.” That phone call that left my head spinning, tears falling, sheer panic, and of course where my mind goes to the absolute worst place. That phone call where I was left saying, “What? No. Start over. I cannot process this. Do I need to get on a plane to come home? I love you. Ronan is not going to let anything happen to you.” That phone call that has had me down on my knees every day and night, begging and screaming to you to please DO NOT LET THIS BE STAGE IV FUCKING BULLSHIT CANCER AGAIN. That phone call that left me with my head going to the worst possible places and telling myself I wouldn’t survive this big of a loss, once again. Your daddy watched me as I paced around for days, cried in bed, telling him if anything happens, that this will be the worst thing to happen to me, since losing you. I came home from the Hampton’s, as fast as I could, waited as patiently as I could to get to the hospital and plop a big fat kiss on that old man’s forehead and look into his sparkly eyes. Surgery was done, to remove what was there. Your Sparkly just looked at me and said, “No matter what this is, my book is already written. You know that better than anyone.” I left the hospital, waiting to hear the news that was the only news there could be. I begged and pleaded with you once again in the parking garage. Please, Ronan. Do not let anything take him away. Please, Ronan. Let him be fine. You left him here to watch over me, for you. Do not let him be taken away. A few hours later, I got the news. The cancer had not spread and was confined to just that one area. It had not spread, and now that it was removed, everything was going to be fine.
THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU.
Proof that you are still here, taking care of me, the best way that you can. By making the one dearest to my heart, o.k. I told him I need at least 30 more years of him here. He promised to help me fuck cancer and I’m not letting him go anywhere other than here, to do that.
While I was on my vacation in the Hampton’s, I got that little email that everyone else got who signed our petition to turn The White House GOLD for just one day in September. To say I am beyond disappointed, is an understatement. I am heartbroken at the way our cancer kids are just brushed aside as if they are a dirty little secret. I had visions of organizing a protest outside the White House. I had visions of the signs I would hold, while bouncing Poppy on my hip. I had visions of all the other angry people, right there with me. I wish so badly that I could make this a reality, because I don’t know what else to do. I’m angry, sad, and feel really let down. We worked SO hard for those signatures and I know all of our supporters did, too. I have had to regroup from that blow and go back to square one. Yes, The White House should be GOLD. But more importantly, our kids deserve more funds from our government. How can we make this happen? Does it start with baby steps while everyday, kids are just being murdered, left and right? How much more blood needs to be shed? The world of childhood cancer deserves so much more. Are people really not aware or are we just plain being ignored? I am doing all I can on this end, to help spread the awareness. I feel like childhood cancer is being talked about, everywhere, but I realise that may only be because it’s the world solely live in now. We didn’t ask for much, Mr. President. We simply wanted some fucking lightbulbs changed out for one day, to recognize this world that deserves better. Thanks for not listening, or caring in my opinion. I truly expected more from you. These kids, deserve to be embraced. These kids, deserve to be recognized, not swept under the carpet. As frustrated and sad as I am, this just motivates me more to continue this fight. A little sorry we’re really not sorry light bulb changing is not going to stop me from trying every year, to get this to finally happen.
I have a ton more to write about, but I have to get ready for this little Skype interview set up that I am doing. I forgot to tell you all that I got a phone call from some lovely peeps that run a T.V. show in Florida. They so want to help with our mission and were so touched by our story that they created this show called Emotional Mojo. They asked if I would be up for doing Skype interviews with them, pretty frequently. Of course I said, “HECK YES!” Because I don’t like to say no to anything anymore especially if it can help with more awareness. Who knows what I am getting myself into, but I’ll never know unless I try. You can see the link for the website here. http://emotionalmojo.com My first real interview is Monday. I’ll let you know when I know more. Maybe Poppy will even make an appearance;)
Alright, Ronan. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Thank you again, Ro baby. I love you so much.
P.S. We WILL get to the White House to make them fight harder for our kids who are dealing with cancer. A huge thank you to Mayor Stanton of Phoenix, Arizona for signing our proclamation to declare September as Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. I say, Mayor Gregory Stanton for PRESIDENT. He is a man that cares and sticks to his word. We are truly grateful to have him on our side.
We are slammed busy foundation wise here as we are gearing up for September, which is childhood cancer awareness month. You all have been asking about The Gold Party like crazy; and we don’t blame you as last year was a huge success.
This year, we have decided to do an entire GOLD weekend. Please keeps the dates of September 27th and 28th open and ready. We have 2 different events we will be doing as we had some amazing opportunities come our way.
I promise details will be coming soon, but it takes time to finalize it all.
Hope you all are well!
Ronan. I woke up the morning of The Gold Party, sobbing hysterically. I finally saw you in my dreams. You are never in my dreams. It was horrific and left me pretty shaken up for most of the day. I dreamed the entire night, about watching you die. You were in a hospital. You were so sick, that I couldn’t pick you up. You had bed sores all over your entire body. I kept trying to record your voice on my phone, because I knew I would never hear it again. I woke up and tried to put this dream, behind me. It didn’t happen. I came back into bed, threw myself down and cried for you like I haven’t done in a while. Your daddy stroked my hair and asked me what was wrong. It took me a while, to get the words out, about my dream. You daddy listened and then said, “But he didn’t die in pain. He fell asleep in your arms, peacefully.” I wish I could say that made me feel better, but it only made me miss you more. I hate our reality so much. I wish I would have had that nightmare, and still had you to wake up to. That dream will forever haunt me. I hope one day, I can dream about you the way I know you would want me to. In a way that is beautiful and happy, just like you were. The nightmares are awful, but they don’t hold a candle to life here without you.
I have Macy and my little New York hipster, Rachel in town. They are both staying with us. It makes me so happy, to have them here. You would have loved Rachel so much, Ro. Your brothers do. Your daddy does. So does Macy. She feels like part of our family. I try to think about the good things in my life now, this blog of course being one of them for me, just due to all the beauty that has come out of it. I wouldn’t have Macy or Rachel, without this blog. I cannot imagine my life, without them AND without you. They feel like the sisters I never had, but have always had due to the natural bond and connection we have. I love that Rachel volunteered at Sloan and remembers seeing you there, shooting your guns. She is such a good girl. One that will help us change the world and all of this. We all went to watch your brothers basketball game. Quinn was in giggly heaven. Liam was so focused. I felt so proud. I only wished I would have had you there, sitting on my lap. They won their game, again. Those boys are on fire again and I love to watch the way this sport is building their self-confidence. They look so happy, Ro. I know they miss you so much, but I can see happiness from them which is what I need to see from them. They deserve to be happy as they didn’t do anything to deserve losing you. None of us did.
I spent the rest of the afternoon, laying low as I knew I had a big night ahead of me. I took a little nap and got up around 3:30 to head over to The W Hotel to hang out with Charisma. We got ready in her room together. It was a mellow few hours with my friend that I very much enjoyed. She looked so stunning and I was so thankful that she flew in, to host this event for us. I really just wanted her to come and enjoy herself and I think that she did. She got to spend a lot of time talking to our friends and your daddy which I know she loved. The Gold Party was even better than I could have imagined. I knew it was going to be amazeballs, due to all the hard work everyone has been putting in, but everything about it blew my mind. It felt so much like you, which was so important to me. Nothing stuffy or over the top. The evening was laid back with such a good energy filling up the place. I swear I heard laughter everywhere I turned, which you know for me, is so important. It was packed. I cannot believe all the people who came out to support you. I had people fly in and drive from all over the county. Can you believe that? It made me seriously cry. All for you, Ronan. They all came, for you. I am thankful for all the love that you continue to fill this world with. I am thankful everyday, for the people that see the beauty behind all of this pain and sadness. I am thankful everyday for all the people who are going to help us change this awful world. I got to meet so many sweet faces and listen to their kind words. Thank you to everyone who came, helped, donated, and volunteered. Those busy little bees of ours, are the BEST. I spent the entire evening, trying to get around to as many people as possible. It was not a hard night for me, in spite of the reason behind this party. I do really well in situations that solely revolve around all things you. This night absolutely did. Of course, I would have given anything for this Gold Party to never exist, because you were still here. I go over this all the time in my head. I can’t have my way with that. I can’t magically bring you back. This is the way, by doing things like this, that I get to keep you alive while making a difference for others. This is the way, I get to have you still and share you with everyone else who has been so touched by you, that they want to help us too. That is the most bittersweet gift, Ronan. But it is my gift, from you and I am not going to waste it by sitting back and doing nothing. I will forever celebrate your life, your beauty and our love by continuing to do things like this. I just hope everyone at that party took a second to stop and remember why they were there and what truly matters in life. I don’t want our message to ever get lost. Yes, this is our story, but it is the story of so many others out there who have lost a child to cancer, who will lose a child to cancer, who will have a child diagnosed with cancer, who will have a child survive cancer…. Unfortunately, there is no shortage of stories like ours, out there. Unfortunately, cancer does not discriminate based on age/gender/income/if you are a good person or bad person… This could be anyone’s story. I just hope to make this story, a little better for someone else in the future so less people have an ending like ours. I know this is not the end of our story, Ro. But everything would be so much better if I could do all this, while still having you here, because you had survived. I would still be doing all of this, if you were still here.
You know how I know I had a good time at The Gold Party? Because we didn’t get home until 3 a.m. This pregnant lady, stayed out until 3 a.m.! We all came home, so tired. Macy went and curled up in Quinn’s bed. I came in to snuggle with her and giggle about the nights events. Rachel came in a joined us. It felt like a little slumber party. Rachel was saying how she was so excited to sleep with Liam’s cozy brown blanket, that is seriously the softest blanket in the world. I knew which blanket she was talking about. I almost didn’t say what came out of my mouth next, but if you can’t say these things, in front of people that are like your sisters, then who can you say them in front of? “I have something to tell you about that blanket.” “What?” Rachel and Macy both said. “That’s the blanket that Ronan died on.” It was quiet. Macy grabbed my hand. I grabbed Rachel’s. We sat for a few minutes, saying nothing and just cried. No words were needed. I love that about those two. They always know when words are needed and when they are not. I think it was Macy that said next that you would have loved the party tonight. And Rachel quickly chirped in, “But then he would have kicked everyone out and screamed how this was HIS party and nobody else’s.” That made us all laugh. We soon went to bed after our laughing and crying. It was 4 a.m. before I got to sleep. I fell asleep a little restless and a lot sad, like I do most nights.
Rachel left last night and Macy left today. I was sad to see them both go. I will see Rachel next week though during my little New York trip. I can’t wait. I am ready for a break from all of this sunshine. Nothing makes me happier than the crisp New York weather. I hope my rain is waiting for me. This is all for tonight, Ro. I’ve been having a Poppy puking party most of the day and I am wiped out. Thank you again to all of my board members for throwing The Gold Party together. Thank you, Charisma for hosting. Thank you, Danny, for DJing. Thank you to everyone who donated or bought auction items, tickets, tables, etc. Thank you to the BEST photographer and friend, Emily Carroll for her photo booth. Thank you to all of our volunteers, The W Hotel, and everyone who supported The Ronan Thompson Foundation. Thank you to all of our friends who came out to celebrate Ronan. You all humble me. I know Ronan is so proud.
Goodnight, babydoll. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe.
P.S. I have one little thing to say, that has been gnawing at me. I THINK most people that were at The Gold Party, were there for the right reasons. I am sure there are a few JACKASSES, who were not. I heard about a little fight over a certain item that was auctioned off. If what is being said, is true… and somebody was bullied over this item, in the most immature way…I AM SO SORRY to the person who really wanted it, but did not end up getting it. The story that is going around, is pissing me off. I wish I would have been there, to intervene. To know that something so petty happened during a night that should have been full of all things sweet and beautiful, just goes to show there is no shortage of douchebags. Sorry, C. Nobody should be treated that way over a material item. Thank you for walking away.
Here are some pics from the photo booth that night. Enjoy them!