Friday, December 4, 2009Tonight's picture features Mattie using the hose to water our garden. Notice he is wearing a raincoat to do this! This was because he usually got more water all over himself than the plants, and he thought it would be a good idea to wear a raincoat for the process.
Poem of the day: In Our Hearts
We thought of you with love today,
But that is nothing new.
We thought about you yesterday,
And the days before that, too.
We think of you in silence.
We often speak your name.
Now all we have is memories,
And your picture in a frame.
Your memory is our keepsake,
With which we'll never part.
God has you in His Keeping.
We have you in our Heart.
Today, Tamra (a friend and SSSAS parent, as well as a co-coordinator of Mattie's Celebration of Life reception) planned a luncheon for myself and eight other Team Mattie helpers. She made a fabulous homemade butternut squash soup and salad, and Liza (another friend and SSSAS mom) spoiled us with her homemade fudge and chocolate covered strawberries. Tamra, as always, was a gracious host and made the day special and memorable. She also gave us an outlet to connect with each other. Several of these moms had never met each other before Mattie's illness. So I find it particularly meaningful to see how Mattie's life touched and connected people. These connections have remained, and I believe this is a significant part of Mattie's legacy, bringing people together for a common good.
Social situations for me are a mixed blessing. Part of me needs to socialize and connect with friends, but the other part of me is well aware of the fact that I now differ from these ladies. All of these women are moms, and I was a mom. So at times when this reality hits me, it saddens me. I am not saying I do not fit in with other women or in other social situations, I do, but it is a more intangible difference, that is hard to describe. Living through Mattie's diagnosis, treatment, and death have profoundly altered my life, my lens of the world, my hopes for the future, and basically has made me re-evaluate just about every thought and belief I used to hold and value. I have learned that nothing in life is guaranteed, and without Mattie, the typical joys and milestones one has when raising a child have disappeared. These were not only benchmarks for Mattie's life, but also vital markers for Peter and I. For example, I no longer measure my world by an academic calendar (okay that is the only positive - but without it, one day blends into the next), there will be no graduations, no college/grad school experiences, no wedding, or grandchildren in our future. These are major losses, because they are the loss of what could have been. So in essence Mattie's death is a loss of the present and the future wrapped up into one.
At the luncheon today, one of the mom's brought her six month old with her, and as he sat in my lap, I immediately thought about Mattie. He was such a healthy baby, and during times when I really think about all of this, I can't understand how a healthy and active child could develop such a devastating disease. There are no answers to any of my questions about Osteosarcoma, other than, it took Mattie's life, and it has ruined our lives as a family.
One of the conversations we had at lunch was intriguing. The question boiled down is what motivates people to help one another? Is it internally driven in which a need is being fulfilled within ourselves, or do we perform acts of kindness for external validation and praise? We debated this for quite some time. It would be idealistic to think that people help others for altruistic purposes. I have no doubt the intentions sometimes may seem altruistic, but we are social creatures, and I don't think anything is wrong with getting positive feedback for a good deed. In fact, if we did not get this feedback how would we even know that what we did made a difference in another person's life. So to me, it is a complicated question, in which both internal and external motivators must be examined. I am very well aware of the fact that not all people get involved with helping others to fulfill an internal need. After all, for over ten years I have taught undergraduates in the District of Columbia. Part of their program requirements call for them to volunteer in the community each semester. I have had my share of students who have challenged me about this requirement. Therefore, initially they were not internally motivated to help others, however, after a semester of working with children and teens, I began to see a change in their thinking and feelings about service learning. They began to see its relevance, and its necessity in their lives. This is a simplistic example, but if we do not provide our younger generations with opportunities to help others, if they don't see us doing it, where on earth are they going to learn the joy, value, fulfillment this provides? A fulfillment like no other, because nothing else can really provide and sustain you in your life like connecting deeply with another person!
Though I think my career path and personality naturally fits with the helping profession, Mattie's illness and death opened my heart and mind to possibilities I never even imagined. I intensely cared for Mattie for over a year. It was 24 hours, seven days a week, and within this intensity, I learned about love that is indescribable. Tamra commented to me today that she feels that my clinical background helped Mattie tremendously. I asked her to elaborate on that. She has vast experience with families affected by cancer, and her observation about Mattie was fascinating to me. She said that at no time when she interacted with Mattie, did she feel as if he was asked to support me emotionally or worry about me. He never showed that he was frightened, scared, or worried about his future, mainly because I provided him with hope, love, and consistency. In other words, I was able to keep it together (at least in front of him) and compartmentalize my feelings, so that he could live as happy and productive life as possible while undergoing heinous treatments. I never thought about this before, because when Mattie was sick the only one I worried about was Mattie. My needs went on the back burner. I admit I never matched my clinical skills to helping Mattie in this capacity, but it made me feel very good to hear Tamra's perspective that Mattie seemed happy until the end. I freely accept this external validation, and actually cherish it, since when you lose a child, you can land up second guessing every possible decision you ever made.
I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "Thank you for posting the picture of the centerpiece- it is lovely and I know that Ann's family will appreciate having it on their table this holiday season. I can imagine how much Abigail's story of the locket meant to you; it was so lovely and what a wonderful gift to be given by one so young. Truly, children have the real touch of giving a gift that comes from the heart. I am sorry you did not get anything helpful from the workshop; I did pass your feedback on to them this morning. Hopefully, they will be able to "update" things as needed. I have noticed a lot of "non professional" presenters relying heavily on index cards and I am not sure they realize how disruptive that is to the speaker-listener connection. I understand that you will be meeting with friends for lunch today and I hope that you are able to enjoy the company. Many people are anxious to see you although everyone also wants to respect your need for solitude; I hope this lunch gives you an opportunity to see how much your friends care for you. I hold you gently in my thoughts."
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