Saturday, November 28, 2009

Saturday, November 28, 2009


This picture was taken in November 2005. Mattie was around three years old and full of energy and curiosity. As he was standing by the coffee table in the picture, he was assembling a puzzle. Mattie just understood how the pieces of a puzzle fit together and he was persistent enough to look for patterns in the pieces. Mattie spent many a day in the hospital assembling puzzles, and like Legos, they were a God sent. Mattie could easily put together a 250 piece puzzle independently.



Poem of the day: God's Garden

God looked around his garden and
he found an empty place,
He then looked down upon this earth
and saw your tired face,
He put his arms around you
and lifted you to rest.
God's Garden must be beautiful,
He always takes the best.
He knew that you were suffering,
He knew that you were in pain.
He knew that you would never get well on earth again.
He saw that the road was getting rough
and the hills were hard to climb,
So he closed your weary eyelids and
whispered"PEACE BE THINE."
It broke our hearts to lose you,
but you didn't go alone,
For parts of us went with you
the day God called you home.

A few days ago Ann had mentioned to me that she was looking for a holiday centerpiece for her table. So yesterday, to try to pull myself out of the terrible mood and state I was in, I decided to look around the internet for centerpiece ideas. I checked out all the usual stores I could think of, and then decided that perhaps there was a way to make an unique centerpiece and accentuate it with things I could also purchase. I finally found something that looked doable, and then decided to just elaborate on the theme. Unlike Friday, this morning, I decided to get up early, get dressed and to go shopping. Peter came along with me on this project, and for a few hours, we were able to take our minds off of things and focus on something else for a change. As I told Ann, this was a good and healthy distraction. In fact, I think one of the best ways to deal with grief, besides of course processing it and talking about it, is to have distractions. Without them, living with the intense pain from moment to moment is unbearable.


While shopping at the craft store today, I heard Peter talking with someone. When I turned around, I saw it was Olivia. As many of you know, Olivia is a SSSAS parent and also helped to coordinate Mattie's Celebration of Life reception. We had the pleasure of chatting with Olivia and meeting two of her daughters. We discussed craft projects and also got a chuckle how she and I seem to meet up in stores without planning it. After the day I had yesterday, I felt the need to push myself to get out of our home today, because I couldn't have two days like that in a row.


In the midst of driving from one store to the other today, we were stopped at a traffic light. I happened to look over inside the car next to us. In the backseat of the car was a baby in a car seat. The baby was a boy, and like the beauty of all babies, was taking the world in with his hands and fingers. Just watching the motions this baby was making reminded me instantly of Mattie and I began to cry. I remember those days where his fingers seemed like sensors or antenna of some sort, picking up every aspect and nuance of his environment. The beauty of the mind, is how certain sights, sounds, or fragrances bring me back in time and it isn't always predictable what will trigger these emotions.

This evening, I went over to Ann's house and had dinner with her family. Ann made homemade turkey soup, which was a soup her brother loved. Over the course of reading this blog, many of you have learned that Ann's brother died of cancer two years ago. So in essence making this soup after Thanksgiving and having her family share in it, is a tradition that honors the memory of her brother. I was honored to be a part of this. We also watched a Sandra Bullock movie tonight, The Proposal. As some of you know, I am a big Sandra Bullock fan, however, though this wasn't her best movie, it was nice to watch it and to take my mind off of sadness, physical pain, and grief for a while. Seems to be my mantra these days, but this sad commentary is my life.



I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "First, I loved the picture of the azaleas that you posted. That is such a great reminder that spring will come again. I too, saw the ad for the quiz on depression but I did not take it. As you said, amazing that they did not include a question on grieving since it impacts a person physically, mentally and emotionally. This is just going to be a really tough year as you have to find ways to deal with traditions you really cannot do anymore. My heart goes out to both Peter and to you; men tend to be "doers" in their grief and I hope that Peter can find some other way/thing to do to honor Mattie's spirit this holiday season. To look out and not see lights or to put them up and know that Mattie isn't here to help with them; this has to be so difficult either way. In some traditions a candle is lit at this time of year for those who are not coming home for the holidays (or at all); would putting a single electric candle in the window help or not? Finding your way through all this has to feel like an emotional minefield and I wish you strength and endurance as you weave your way through. I do think you need to find a way to care for yourselves physically as well as emotionally right now as difficult as that may seem. Please be kind and gentle with each other; I am praying for you today."