#isntshefearless

You get the best of both worlds haha

Note: Not everything in this audio read is true. The more obvious, well-known facts are, but others I made up. I have no intention whatsoever of claiming that this is what really happened. If you're not sure about anything, do ask. :)

I cried in pain and anguish. The nurse came to take him away from me, but I resisted. I begged for only a few moments more. Later, I would see the sympathy in her eyes as she watched me cradle my beautiful baby boy with the most sparkling blue eyes. 

Four years were all it took. I remember Ronan walking barefeet down the hallway one morning. I could hear his little laugh as he opened my bedroom door, and I pretended to still be asleep. "Mummy, wake up!" he squealed in delight as he jumped on me. I rolled over and laughed. That was one of my favourite times of the day. 

Ronan dragged me out of bed and into the kitchen. "Ouch!" I exclaimed when something punctured my foot. I looked down to find Ronan's race cars on the kitchen floor along with his plastic dinosaurs. Ronan gasped and rushed forward. "Oops, sorry mummy!" he apologised before stooping to pick up his toys. Instead of getting mad at him, I laughed and picked him up before spinning him around. Scattered toys on the kitchen floor were not worth getting angry over, not with Ronan. 

The day I got the news is a day I will never forget. Ronan was playing with the other kids in the play corner. I remember constantly looking over my shoulder to check if he was okay. Whenever he caught my eye, we would exchange smiles. Ronan had the most beautiful blue eyes.

"Ms Thompson?" I heard the nurse address me, "The doctor will see you now." I nodded and followed the nurse into the doctor's office. I sat down facing the doctor, who welcomed me with a warm smile. That smile could have disguised what she was about to tell me, but the sorrow in her eyes gave her away. "I'm so sorry, Ms Thompson," the doctor began, but she did not have to go on.

My worst fears were confirmed. Ronan was diagnosed with neuroblastoma, a type of cancer. All the other details were fuzzy because I had a million thoughts racing through my mind.

Where did he get the cancer from?

What treatment is available?

Can he be cured?

Can I afford it?

How am I going to tell him he has cancer?

But the most important question found it's way to the top, and I remember myself interrupting the doctor's explanation.

"How long does he have?"

The doctor stopped short. She brought her hands together and was silent for a moment, trying to find the right way to put her words together, although there was a never a "right way" to tell a single mother, or any parent for that matter, that their child is going to die. 

"I don't want to give you false hope," the doctor said gently, "He might only have a year or two."

My best friend Audrey came over that night, and she brought her husband, Ted. Ronan adored Ted and looked up to him as a sort of father figure. It always broke my heart to know that Ronan would never get to know his father, the irresponsible cheat who fled when he found out that I was pregnant with Ronan. 

Ted watched over Ronan while Audrey held me in bed. I was a complete wreck, crying hysterically and hoping against hope that I was stuck in the cruelest of nightmares.

"Why did it have to be Ronan?" I remember asking Audrey in between sobs, never actually expecting an answer. "Why him? Why us?" Through it all, Audrey just held me and let me sob into her shoulder. Out in the living room, I could hear Ronan laughing away at whatever Ted was doing. Ronan was the easiest kid to get along with. He was nice and polite to people. He laughed at everyone's jokes. He got sad when animals died. He helps his friends. And he was only three years old. I cried and cried and cried, until finally everything started spinning and I could not stay awake any longer. 

Appointments. Treatment. More appointments. More treatment.

For over a year, that was how everything went. It got to the point where Ronan had to stay at the hospital. He was only getting worse, but he never once acknowledged it. Maybe he was too young to fully appreciate the fact that he could go at any moment, but I like to think that it was because he was somewhat supporting me. People might say that I was being deluded, but that single thought was what kept me going. Ronan was still that lively, cheerful boy, even after hours of chemotherapy. He still smiled at people as often as he always had, and we still had our little moments. When I think of it in retrospect, Ronan was more of a support system to me than I was to him.

But then the clock struck two. Ronan's heart was failing, and they rushed him into the operating theatre in the wee hours of the morning. 

A year ago, I would have sat in the waiting area in a puddle of my own tears. But things have changed. I was stronger; Ronan taught me to be stronger. So I sat there patiently, subconsciously aware that it was almost time. 

Three hours had passed. I heard the shuffling of feet and looked up to find Ronan's favourite nurse.

"Has he gone?" I whispered. The nurse tried to disguise the pain in her voice and replied, "Not yet."

"May I see him?" I whispered again. I could see the tears forming at the corner of the nurse's eyes when she said, "I'll bring him to you."

Ronan looked to be asleep when the nurse put him in my arms. I cradled him like I did when I first held him the day he was born. "Come on, baby, with me. We're going to fly away from here," I whispered into his ear. I had not been expecting it, but Ronan opened his eyes and managed a smile. My heart broke because I knew that would be the last time I saw him smile.

Our eyes met, just like they did when he was born. And just like we always did, we had our own understanding, like we had our own secret club. 

"I love you, mummy," Ronan whispered, then closed his eyes and snuggled up in my arms the way he always did when he was falling asleep. "I love you to the moon and back, Ronan," I whispered in return, kissing his face.

That was when his heart stopped. I knew it because I no longer felt his breath against my skin. Instantly, the tears came. They spilled onto his cheeks, and I would wipe them away hastily only to be replaced by more tears. 

I cried in pain and anguish. The nurse came to take him away from me, but I resisted. I begged for only a few moments more. So I sat there with Ronan in my arms, crying silently. I would have given anything for just one more moment with him, but I knew that could never happen.

Rising from my seat, I made my way to the nurses' station. Ronan's favourite nurse came towards me, and I put Ronan in her arms. I simply offered a ghost of a smile, and she nodded in comprehension and carried Ronan away.

Ronan was everything to me. He brightened up my day effortlessly and never ceased to make me happy, even now. But most importantly, he taught me to be a fighter. He taught me never to take anything for granted. He taught me to love and live in the moment, because everything else is uncertain.