How the Heart Breaks

My dear sweet, silly boy is gone.

My heart is broken.

I've tried to wrap my head around the events of the last five months to no avail.  I can't tell you why kids get cancer, or why an eight year old who loved to laugh and smile had to endure so much in such a short amount of time.

All I can tell you is that it hurts in a way I've never felt pain before.  Hollowing me out on the inside until I'm numb enough to think that the worst of missing him is over until it swings back around again to burn my face from all the tears I cry.

I cry a lot.

The smallest things can make me cry... The sound of children playing, walking by the clothing section for boys in Target, hearing something Ashton would have found funny, reading a story to little Jack the next door neighbor boy - who in an emergency situation, I found myself babysitting last night. 

My heart - though it did its best -  I learned is just not ready to be around little boys, especially little boys wearing pajamas with the same cartoon face that was on the blanket my nephew had slept under all of these months.

I miss the sound of Ashton's voice.  The way he said, "Hewwo," and "Aunt Stacey."  I miss his giggles.  His jokes.  And his sweet, one thousand beams of light smile... 

I miss him making me laugh. 

I miss making him laugh too...

 

Honorary Officer Ashton...  Thank you to Make-A-Wish for making Ashton's Dream come true...

There is no better gift to give then one that makes a child smile from his heart.  In Ashton's memory, I pledge to make a yearly donation for the rest of my life to help bring joy to others.  Please consider donating to Make-A-Wish as well...

It's hard to find your happy some days. Especially when you're 8 years old and attached to an IV in a hospital that is far away from your home and your family. My nephew says "I hate it here," and I for one can't blame him. He's been in the hospital since March with only two tiny breaks in between of real life.

 And yet this is reality.

 Ashton is fighting Leukemia.

 Most days he has a smile on his face and his personality is so warm and funny that the nurses can't help falling just a little bit more in love with him each day. Proof of this can be seen on a daily basis. When Ashton calls for a nurse it's usually more than one that comes running. And they never leave right away either... Instead they pull up a chair alongside his bed and laugh as he decides who he feels like "firing" for the day.

I spend my weekends at the hospital... I come up on Friday nights after work and leave late on Sunday afternoon in order to give my sister a chance to do what she needs to do at home. Ashton and I watch movies, play video games, sing silly songs and sometimes make Mr. Potato heads that bear a strange resemblance to my father.

Ashton has two different types of Leukemia:

 JMML (Juvenile Myelomonoctic Leukemia) and AML (Acute Myeloid Leukemia)

Somewhere along the way I stopped reading the definitions and the prognosis.  The big words didn't scare me but the tone of implied hopelessness did.  Instead we take it day by day.  The good, the bad and the sometimes ugly...

And each night I send words of prayer into the night... Blessings for healing, blessings for hope and blessings for a miracle to come our Ashton's way.