Sunday, November 29, 2009Tonight's picture was taken in March of 2005. Mattie was in a silly mood when Peter took this picture. He had his Easter sunglasses on (they had plastic Easter eggs in the corners of them) and he had placed stickers all over himself. In fact, I can still remember the energy Mattie had that day, and what you may not be able to surmise is that if I wasn't hugging Mattie, he would have most likely bounced right out of my lap and onto Peter who was sitting in front of us taking a picture.
Poem of the day: Love Me Enough to Let Me Go
Your hearts are breaking-
I know, I can tell. Because you're my parents
and I know you so well
As hard as this is, there's something I need to say
I don't want to linger,
don't beg me to stay
Keeping me here only gets in my way
Prevents me from being where I want to be
Out of this body and finally pain free
Living with God is my ultimate goal
By taking me home
He is making me whole
The only thing holding me back,
Mom and Dad, Is thinking of you and the good times we had.
You fought for me when no one else could,
Refused to give up when others told you you should
You packed a whole lifetime of love in (seven short) years
Gave me strength to handle all of my fears
Showered me with courage-you said;
"It's a loan"While secretly hiding tears of your own.
You've done everything I needed.
I couldn't ask for much more
Please love me enough to help me pass through that door.
I know you are sad and it doesn't seem fair
But the time has come to put me in God's care
Since I started the job I was sent here to do
And planted a seed now residing in you.
I'm sure I can trust you to carry my load.
Please love me enough-enough to let me go.
This poem evokes two feelings in me. The first of which is part of me hopes that Mattie feels as if we packed a lifetime of love in his seven short years, that we gave him courage and strength, and tried to meet his every need even in the end. However, the other feeling is I can't accept what this poem is asking me to do, which is to love Mattie enough to let him go. To go with God, I assume. It is my hope that Mattie is in God's care. Growing up Catholic, I was taught to believe that challenging God's plan and mission was neither my place or perhaps it was beyond my understanding. Maybe that is correct, because even on a good day, I still can't fathom having to let my son "go." For what reason?! What could God's plan be? If his plan was for us to witness 13+ months of torture upon Mattie, and now to have to live with the aftermath of such a life threatening illness, Mattie's death, then I must pause and wonder. That seems like a horrific, painful, and devastating plan. I am not saying I am not grateful that God provided us with Team Mattie and Mattie's amazing doctors and nurses. I am forever grateful for this and despite living with grief each day, I try not to forget the many acts of kindness and love I experienced and still experience. But somehow, I realize nothing can bring Mattie back. Nothing can bring my former life and world back, and the scary part is now I am left to live with the broken shell of a self that remains.
I woke up feeling very tired today, and I had my usual headache. It was the kind of day where I wondered if it was worth even attempting to do something "normal." Peter mentioned to me today that while he was flipping through the channels on TV, he came across a cooking show that caught him attention. He went on to tell me that the woman was cooking an Italian dish and as he described it, it sounded good, and I knew immediately who he was talking about. For those of you interested in cooking, you most likely have heard of Giada DeLaurentis. Any case, I told Peter she has a cookbook out that I have wanted to get before Mattie got sick. So we decided to try to get the book today and make a recipe from it. However, even a trip to a bookstore can be a difficult place, because the first thing you see in the front of most stores now is children's holiday books. One of Mattie's favorite authors was Jan Brett. Mainly because he was introduced to her writings in his preschool, and we both admired her illustrations. Naturally, the featured book today was Jan Brett's book, The Mitten, staring me right in the face. But being in the bookstore and then buying the ingredients today to make this recipe somehow did not make me happy. In fact, being surrounded by people only irritated me. There are some days that I can deal with the outside world better than others, and today wasn't such a day. I have been edgy and agitated all day, and unfortunately in such a state, Peter lands up being the recipient of my mood.
I had wanted to go with Peter today to Roosevelt Island, a place Mattie loved to be. However, because it was 60 degrees in Washington, DC today, and it felt like spring, every one and his cousin was at the Island and there was no where to park the car. Some how something so simple, was deeply upsetting to me. I was upset for more complex reasons than not being able to find a parking space. I was upset because I wasn't going to be able to walk on the Island and somehow connect with Mattie. Connect with his memories there, and to be able to walk in a peaceful place and reflect on those memories. Peter could sense I was upset, but I wasn't able to verbalize why.
Later in the day, we attempted to go back to Roosevelt Island, but we still were unable to park. At which point we came home, and we instead took a two mile walk on the Washington Mall. Thankfully it was later in the day, when there wasn't as much traffic or sidewalks streaming with people. While walking we talked about Mattie's Foundation. I will always love Mattie, and I want his Foundation to be successful, but I also know my limitations now. I expressed my feelings to Peter, because at the moment I have to take one day at a time. Though I am not a person who typically looks out for myself, at this point, I realize I must. So my role on the Foundation, will need to grow with me, or evolve as I can handle it.
I would like to end tonight's posting with two messages. The first message is from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "I am glad you found a project to work on; we all need those. You have so much creative spirit and I am delighted that you found a way to harness it for Ann. I am sure it will be special and perhaps it may become part of her holiday tradition year to year. Grief is overwhelming and it cannot be taken whole; yet it seems to overrun everything else. Finding distractions and projects is a good thing to do; the moments of grief and despair will still come and when they do, sit with them as best you can and don't judge yourself for your reactions to it. Like waves, they will recede and then return when they will, eventually spacing themselves a little farther apart. Today, just try to be gentle in your self judgment when those times come. I will dedicate the energy of my practice today to you in the hope that it helps sustain you in your moments of need. Namaste."The second message is from my colleague and friend, Denise. Denise wrote, "I came across an essay written by Erma Bombeck-Mothers Who Have Lost a Child-May 14, 1995 and within that essay she wrote, as you have written, "And who do you think prepared them (the mother) for the rough, lonely road they had to travel? Their dying child. They pointed their mothers toward the future and told them to keep going." She wrote the column for Mother's Day and said, "This may seem like a strange Mother's Day column on a day when joy and life abound for the millions of mothers throughout the country. But it's also a day of appreciation and respect. I can think of no mothers who deserve it more than those who had to give a child back..." It seemed to echo your writing about Mattie and how he did not leave you until he felt he had connected you with Team Mattie. Although you walk this path at your own pace and it is your journey, there are many hands and hearts that walk alongside you each and every day."
No comments:
Post a Comment