I cry every single time I am alone in the car. I cry every time I take a shower. I cry when I walk into a supermarket alone. I cry when I see something Ty would have loved, like the rainbow candy stick at the quick mart the other day. I bought one for him. It was silly, I know, but I don't know if I would have been more sad ignoring it and validating the fact that Ty is gone, or acting in denial and buying it for my five-year-old son who I will never get to give it to. I decided to go the denial route and just buy it. It's sitting on my kitchen counter and now I don't know what to do with it. I promise you that if Ty was with me, that is 100% the candy he would have picked. Actually, I should probably bring it to the office and just put it in Ty's candy cart so someone can enjoy it while we are hard at work on the foundation!
|Ty just weeks before diagnosis|
Yesterday I attended a roundtable with New York's top radio stations to try and impress them with our foundation so we can book an interview or two in the future. I worked really hard to pull together an informative press kit so I really hope something comes to fruition. Even if it's just a PSA, that would be incredible. It is so important that we can continue to get the word out about Ty's story and use that as a platform to share the facts about pediatric cancer/spread awareness. I truly feel this is only the beginning of all the amazing things Ty will do.
Some of you may remember me writing about a bracelet that I wore every single day for over a year. It had a heart charm engraved with the words "keep fighting" and it used to always reassure me that we were doing the right thing by Ty. When we left the hospital for at-home hospice on September 17 was the first time I noticed it was gone. It was simply missing. I didn't hear it fall anywhere and I couldn't remember, for the life of me, where I saw it last. I was sure it was lost in the hospital, and how fitting! To lose my "keep fighting" bracelet on the day we decided to throw in the towel.
Well, the other day I found it. I was moving Gavin's mattress to make his bed, and there it was! Right there in the middle of the floor, underneath all the bedding! I have changed his sheets frequently since I lost the bracelet so I can't figure out why I haven't found it until now. I like to think that Ty put it there because he felt now is the time for me to find it. Time for me to start fighting again. Not for his life, but for all of the other little kids just like him. And I promise you that is what I have been so busy doing therefore I've been out of touch a bit. Yes, I'm crying. Yes, I'm sad all the time. Yes, I am vulnerable. But don't worry about me because I am also very busy. It is so good for me to be able to pick my dusty gloves off the floor and get back in the fight. I feel I am slowly coming back to life when I am busy at work on his foundation. It's not the life I want, but I still have to do what I can maintain a life with passion. Ty gave that to me. A reason to be passionate again and to work so hard toward the cause.
I still have a tremendous yearning for the hospital. I tell Ty all the time that I would do anything to be with him again, even if it means living with him in the hospital forever. I know it sounds like the worst life imaginable, but if he was in it my life would be better no matter what. In the depths of my soul I realize that I don't really want that for Ty's sake. That it would be incredibly unfair to Ty to continue living a life in pain and confined to a hospital bed. But my irrational side just can't get over how much I need him here with me, and I can't reason with my irrational side so sometimes those ideas do end up consuming me for a while. I miss him so much, I want him back at any cost whatsoever. I'm trying to make a deal here and nobody will listen.
I finally mailed hundreds of thank you cards today. For sympathy cards or mass cards... we are so appreciative. I struggle so much when signing the card, you can't even imagine. I sign "Love, Lou, Cindy, Ty and Gavin" to everything for years and years. Today I wrote in Ty on accident. Then on the next one I started crying and omitted both Ty and Gavin just to feel better. Finally, on the third card, I wrote "Love Lou, Cindy and Gavin." Do you know how empty that sounds? How awkward it felt as I put the pen to paper writing those words? Ty belongs there. It's so unfair.
Lou and I are missing him in our bed the most. Where he's been sleeping pretty much ever since this :)
THis is going to sound ridiculous, but it's true so I might as well share it with you... A lovely organization mailed a "Ty" doll to Gavin, but upon opening it we got so excited that Lou and I took it and put it in our room instead. So we can sleep with "Ty". The NY Giving Doll program sends a rag doll that resembles your child. It was such a sweet thing. He has green eyes and curly blonde hair. We snuggle this ridiculous doll all night long. I truly find comfort in it, as silly as that sounds. I guess we are just having a really hard time letting go. I want to sleep with "Ty doll" forever and I just might!