I have fought, I have pushed on, I have stood strong. I have fought the pain and the truth and I have kicked it down so hard I did not think it would ever appear. I swept it under the rug, into the corner, into the cracks. I dug a hole in the dessert and buried it 10 feet under. I denied. I did not waver. I carried on.
Now I forget, I forget how I did it. I don’t know how to do it any more. I try to remember, I try to figure out what has changed. The breath gets stolen from my chest, I blink harder trying to forget. Is this what it feels like? Is this the aftermath of war? As we approach the one year mark the reality of everything settles. As I try to settle back into the comforts of routine, to participate again in the normalcy of life.
Wake
Eat
Clean
Out the Door
Drop off 1
Drop off 2
Work
Lunch
Work
Return
Pick up 1
Pick up 2
Walk
Park
Fish
Dinner
Bath
Story
Bed
Repeat
I try to be present in these moments. The moments that make the day but I wander, I falter, I drift. I feel the lie I live, I feel me give up my honesty, the truth in my writing. The greater purpose I felt of this situation diminishes daily. I thought that if I wrote this blog, wrote the voyage, I could give back make it all have meaning. I was so lost at diagnosis, trying to research and find information, all in vain. I wanted just one mother to read my blog and know that they were not alone. But somewhere along the line the truth of the situation just became to hard. The human nature to care to much what others will think drowned the truth in my words. I added a filter to make it pretty. I added many filters, so many that I lost the original image.
I am home now, but it is not in the home I left from. This is a new home. A home that is “Mommies”. It is hard, and it is lonely but it is no more harder and sadder then denying who I am every day. The harder part is not knowing, is being kept in the dark. People ask how Aiden is, and on repeat I say “coming along” but the truth is I really do not know. I am angry and bitter and hateful and those are awful feeling to feel. And I think about the larger picture, is this a cruel test? Is the overall outcomes pre determined or is this just crazy delusion that “Magical Thinking” exists.
So the truth, no more speaking in metaphors and overly beautified, descriptive text. The truth:
Thank you to Judy for facilitating so many great memories (and through marketing which I love) that also let me feel like I was contributing or giving back in a small way to the house. Memories through McHappy day interview with Aiden on the weather network, professional photo shoot for the corporate annual report ( which I received a copy of and all the photos from that day.) 
also the priceless photo that was sent in media release of Aiden as he turned 8 and founder George Cohon turning 80 both on May 1st. And a huge thank you to Mr. Cohon for starting RMHC Canada and seeing and fulfilling a need in the healthcare system to support families not with medical services but but the effects having a sick child has on the whole family emotionally, logistically and financially.
A thank you to the teachers, Danelle & Ryan and Katie the principal who were so understanding to Aiden's needs, working in the windows of him feeling healthy enough to attend and also taking in Declan at the drop of a hat for the last month of school. letting me know that these transitions are difficult but they were there to help anyway they can.
Thank you to Theo and the door staff who always greeted Aiden with a smile and would check the mail without a hesitation or annoyance, just kindness. And up to 5 times a day as he asked. There is an endless list of people I could thank at the house, the staff and volunteers are truly amazing, but I really want to thank all the Donors and sponsors who contribute financially to the house. I can not even begin to imagine the upkeep cost of the house in downtown Toronto. The pantry cupboard is always fully stocked, milk, coffees, snack bags to go to





