Friday, October 30, 2009Tonight's picture features Mattie driving in "Speedy Red." Mattie was wearing oxygen cannula's in his nose, and his portable oxygen tank was sitting behind his seat. Nonetheless, this did not hold him back or slow him down. Mattie was a great driver... a natural! He just had a feeling for steering, making turns, and when to push down on the gas peddle. Speedy Red brought Mattie great joy and excitement, and I am so happy he had these moments before he died.
Poem of the day: Four Candles for You
The first candle represents our grief.
The pain of losing you is intense.
It reminds us of the depth of our love for you.
This second candle represents our courage.
To confront our sorrow,
To comfort each other,
To change our lives.
This third candle we light in your memory.
For the times we laughed,
The times we cried,
The times we were angry with each other,
The silly things you did,
The caring and joy you gave us.
This fourth candle we light for our love.
We light this candle that your light will always shine.
As we enter this holiday season and share this night of remembrance
with our family and friends.
We cherish the special place in our hearts
that will always be reserved for you.
We thank you for the gift
your living brought to each of us.
We love you.
We remember you.
Today was a busy day for me, filled with many social interactions. I had the wonderful opportunity to meet up with a fellow SSSAS mom, Diane. Many of you may remember meeting Diane and her son, Holden, at Mattie's walk. Holden is a sixth grader at Mattie's school and is now a cancer survivor. Diane and I e-mailed each other many times this year as both of our boys were undergoing intense treatments. It was nice to be able to connect with someone who experienced something quite similar to me, and we shared our cancer stories, fears, and a host of other thoughts with one another over lunch. I find it fascinating how cancer can unite people, and in a way it was like we were talking a common or shared language with each other.
After lunch I had the opportunity to spend some time with Ann and her family. I got to hear about the Halloween parade at her children's school. Mattie's school has a big parade for the kids, in which the children walk around the campus and display their costumes. Mattie did this during his kindergarten year, and absolutely loved it. I will never forget that day or the Halloween party that took place in his classroom. Life seemed so much simpler back then! I also went with Ann's children to pick out pumpkins today, which they carved tonight. It was lovely to see the excitement on their faces as they were picking out just the right pumpkin, and it reminded me of how Mattie would search and search until he found what he deemed the perfect pumpkin. I used to love pumpkins, but now I just feel totally indifferent to them and the holiday of Halloween. Most likely because without Mattie, this holiday seems non-existent to me. Later in the afternoon, I had the chance to have tea with Ann. We chatted about a bunch of different things, but at one point she told me that the kind of care I gave to Mattie was not only hard, but it was selfless, and amazing. These comments meant a lot to me, and I guess because of the simple fact that Mattie did die and he is no longer with me, that at times I do need this reassurance and positive feedback.
I also had a chance to see Mary, Ann's mom, this evening too, and I will get the chance to spend more time with her tomorrow, as we will be teaming up to give out Halloween candy at Ann's house. My joke with Mary is, that the two of us teaming up together could be a potentially scary experience for any trick or treater. I am joking naturally, but our combined feelings about the death of our sons makes for a very powerful force to be reckoned with.
This evening, Tamra, a fellow SSSAS mom, friend, and major Mattie supporter, invited me to the play, A Mid Summer Night's Dream at Mattie's school. It was a clever and witty performance, and I was very impressed with the teenagers who performed their roles with such humor, professionalism, and maturity. I appreciated Tamra's invitation, since I have always been a person who enjoys going to the theatre. I enjoyed her company and at the play I also had the opportunity to meet another young girl from Mattie's school who is battling cancer. It amazes me how many young people in our small community have been touched by cancer. Through helping Mattie, I have learned not to shy away from illness, but instead to embrace it, understand it, and to support those experiencing it.
I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "What you said about Mattie impacting everyone who knew him is true. You can certainly see that in these wonderful children like Campbell and Charlotte, who while they have had to deal with loss early in their lives in a very profound way, have become even more sensitive, thoughtful and loving as a result. I, like many others, have once again found myself reevaluating what am I doing with my life, my friends, my connections. For me this means stepping up and doing things I want to do but have been putting off for a better time. What if a better time doesn't come? Will these important things go undone and what effect will that have? I am thrilled that the foundation is on the way and I look forward to hearing about each milestone achieved. I remember sharing this with you at some earlier point but I will reflect on it again: in Judaism, when one does mitzvahs (good deeds) in someone's memory, they count twice, once for the person doing them and once for the person who died and can no longer do them him or herself. Reflect today on how many lovely deeds are done in Mattie's memory and may that give you some comfort."
2 comments:
Vicki,
I am praying for you. I have no doubt that God has a Speedy Red for Mattie and he is Zooming his way through Heaven about now. Consider the laps around your patio his driver's training lessons!
Your photo yesterday of the beach and of the water was wonderful. I always, always, always connect with God better at the water side than I do in everyday/city life. Water is so very healing and also symbolic too of the sacrament of baptiam, among others. Him looking for shark's teeth was finding rare treasures in the ordinary, hum drum aspects of life.
When I take (or used to take) my Caribean vacations, I went alone and was a spiritual retreat for me. I would sit on the beach, cry, pray, meditate about my life's ups/downs. When I went to Aruba in the summer of 93, one month before I started GWU and had Dr. Marotta for Intro to Counseling, I was on such a retreat. I was reading a book called "Reach for the Rainbow" and was a self-help book for adult survivors of childhood sexual abuse, with a spiritual slant. I was there 2 weeks, so completed the whole 400 pages book. My very last morning there, I was on the beach for a last morning swim before heading to the airport for the afternoon flight home. I got in the water, and soon noticed that it was raining. It had not rained at all those 2 weeks, so after a while, got out, and dryed off. While doing this, I looked over the horizon, the rain had stopped, and there was a BEAUTIFUL rainbow - clear as day. I decided to take one last trip to town to buy some souivenirs and I commented to a store clerk about seeing the rainbow. She smiled, and said, you know it RARELY rains at all here in Aruba, maybe 1 or 2 times a year and the last time had been that past January. Vicki, I knew, I just knew in my heart, that there was a God, that he cared about the pain and heartaches in my heart from the past, where I had been torn and abused, and embittered, yet He cared to show me the rainbow. you may know that the rainbow is a sign from God that He will never destroy the earth by water again, and I knew God was with me. It was one of the deepest healing moments that I have had in my life.
Through the devastation of yours and Peter's last year, with unfathomable paain and loss, Vicki, please know that God loves you and does not at all hate you for being angry with Him. He knows. He knows Vicky. He will not leave you at all.
I love you dear.
Hugs,
Mary Ann
Hello Vicki,
I haven't read your blog since right after Mattie died, and it just popped up on my daily google update that I have set for any mention of osteosarcoma, and so I have just been sitting here, reading all your back blogs. The one with the poem about the house is empty now, and so am I, just took me back in my mind to my own empty house after the death of my baby boy, Klayton. I remember how empty and quite that house was, as I sat in it and wept, day after day. The only way I was able to finally go on in life was after I had my son, Keaton, and I always felt like I had to go through having him twice, and having to face the thought of loosing him twice is more than I think I can bear. The other thing that struck me when I was reading your blogs was when you talked about how your memory of Mattie was all tied up with his illness and dying, and how you could hardly remember him when he was healthy and normal. I have noticed this trait in myself, and struggled just the other day, to remember Keaton and how he was before this long battle with osteosarcoma began. I wondered if I would ever again be able to remember the times before cancer and illness, and if I would only be able to see his face and body as it is currently, so changed and debilitated by this horrid disease, instead of the perfect, flawless, beautiful child he once was. The stories you told of the glowing ball in the kitchen, and the unexplainable car seat incident, made my spine tingle, as I so want to believe that those we love beyond life itself, will still be with us in spirit, even when we miss their bodily presences so much. What you are doing with the Mattie Miracle Foundation is awesome, and has to be a way you can feel that something good can come from the absolute tragedy that has happened in your life, and the unfathomable unfairness of the loss of your Mattie. As we continue in the battle against this horrid osteosarcoma monster, struggling to find a way to save my own son's life, and currently in a strange land, all the way on the other side of the world, as we seek treatment in the Philippines from a new, experimental gene therapy drug, called, Rexin G,I just want to let you and Pete know that I am one of the multitudes of people, who will never forget Mattie's precious smile, and I ache for your pain and loss, and wish for you to be able to find some way to ease that pain, someday.
Karen, Mother of Keaton www.caringbridge.org/visit/keatonlee
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