She is here. But part of her is elsewhere for eternity.

Paxton, I made it through the fuckwad days in May that I hate so much. I went to work on May 8th. That was  a major accomplishment in it of itself. Last year, I willed myself a million times over to die in my sleep. I didn’t get out of bed until the girls showed up, dug me out from underneath my pillows and held my hands as they guided me downstairs. They kept me busy: setting up new phone/cable service, buying tv’s, taking toys and contraptions you never got to use from the basement to Goodwill, sorting and packing some of your other things and safely storing them in the attic, cleaning out extra-large items abandoned in the garage, organizing copious amount of medical bills which somehow got backlogged in the insurance system, and attempting to make me eat. This was just three months after your Dad moved out, and left me holding a shit ton of bags of shit. Thank goodness for Momma’s girls; they swarmed in and helped me take care of a lot of that shit. Alas, this year I navigated my way to work. While my body was present, my mind was far, far away…recounting every detail of May 8th, 2012. Scene by scene, the reel started playing in my mind. I relived every minute that led us to Dr. D’s, which lead us to the ER, which lead us to the HOT unit, which ultimately lead us straight to the depths of Hell. Right around the time of day you were officially diagnosed, Allison appeared, grabbed my hand and said, “Let’s go.” She knows just how to make Momma listen. Your girlfriend, Ms. Nicole smiled knowingly and said, “Go. I got you. Please go.” And, just like that, two of Momma’s loveliest lovelies saved her heart once again. Allison had just come from Children’s Hospital. Somewhere along the way, I mentioned how much it would mean to me if PaxLove was spread throughout the HOT unit and the Clinic on May 8th. Allison and Erin found a way to make it happen – even though it meant taking a 1/2 day off of work, and exposing their vulnerable hearts to the very place in which you ended your brave battle. They packed your Treat Cart to the brim with ‘happy’, and rolled it right through the HOT unit and right into the hearts of so many brave, little warriors. Have I mentioned how much I love those girls? After work, I met up with Lala and her crew at Papa & Gg’s house. Lala received a “Cold Water Challenge” earlier in the week; she fittingly saved her debut for the most appropriate day. The point of a “Cold Water Challenge” being to jump into cold water, or make a donation to the charity of your choice. Living in Wisconsin, particularly on the heels of a Polar Vortex, finding cold water was NOT a challenge. Willing oneself the mental toughness to take the plunge – a far different story. Lala wasn’t fazed; she said, her super-hero nephew demonstrated far, far more bravery in his (ittsy bittsy pinkie) than she could in a lifetime, muchness by jumping into some cold ass water. Not doubt.  So, into Papa’s lake she went  In turn, she got to challenge three people to do the same.  She challenged her friend Sandy on the east coast, Beth Kille in Madison, and Britta in Cali – to jump or donate $24 – to mark 24 months since your diagnosis. Her battle cry was heard – and despite braving the cold waters, those ladies donated anyway. And they donated $100 each! You certainly have a way with the ladies, lil’ man. Mother’s Day was a bitch to navigate. I spent the day with Lala, the three musketeers, and Nana. Once again, I was physically present; but my heart was a million miles away – searching for you. The day took forever to end. Although I strained to feel you with me, to see a sign, sense a glimmer of your soul somewhere in my surroundings….I didn’t. And despite being in the company of some of the ones I love the most – I felt completely and entirely hollow and alone. It is oft said that being a mother is the hardest job in the world. Well, being a bereaved mother – is unbearable. The countdown is on…15 more days until stupid May is over. (Then I begin dreading the arrival of July.) I am so sorry you got sick. IMG_2098

Stay with me, Sweet Boy…

xoox

Momma

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Before. After. There is no in between.

Paxton,

May is officially here and I’m trying my best not to go into freak out mode.  You know what May means; and no matter how many Jedi mind tricks I attempt to sell myself – one’s subconsciousness always knows the truth: May will never get easier. May 8th: diagnosis day. Mother’s Day: the day you started chemotherapy. (i.e. The day I allowed poisonous venom to be pumped throughout your teeny, tiny body. One of a thousand ways in which I failed to protect you.) May: the beginning of the end. May: there is no escape.

I will come up with some sort of plan to get through the shitty days of May.  I realize how very lucky I am to know that I will do so surrounded by some of my most favorite people.  Having my lovelies by my side will help ease the pain a bit. But the body never forgets. No matter where I am, who I am with, what I am doing – every cell within me remembers the pain of these dates.

I don’t live in a normal world anymore. I live in a world that I often feel very alone.  I tend to do alright in this world. This world without you is so hard for me to live in, but I have done my best to make it bearable by living each day the best way I’m capable because I hope against all hope that you are watching me, and that you are with me. I refuse to disappoint you by being a loser Momma. You may say this new perspective has given me a clarity I never had before. I guess that all comes with the territory of living a life that includes a line of demarkation: a ‘before and after’.  My before cancer life, and after cancer life are unequivocally two completely, wholly, vastly different lives.

The always absence of you is more ever-present during certain times and certain days; May being one of those times. As always, I will keep you tucked as close to me as possible, and carry you with me in everything I do and everywhere I roam.  Thank you for not giving up on me.

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I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe.

Stay with me, Sweet Boy.

xoox

Momma