Saturday, December 19, 2009

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Tonight's picture features Mattie in December 2007, standing in front of our Nation's Christmas Tree. This tree is always displayed in front of the White House. The Nation's tree is the beautiful and tall tree behind Mattie, however, you may notice that there is a smaller tree immediately behind Mattie. In fact there are 50 smaller trees, one for each of our 50 States, that surround the Nation's tree. Each of these 50 trees is decorated with ornaments from the State it represents. The night we headed to see the tree was absolutely frigid, yet despite that, Mattie enjoyed this adventure and seeing the lights.

Poem of the day: Sorrow by Charlie Brown

Sorrow is

A deep blue ocean

With waves of grief

That swamp me

Whenever I think

I am safe.

Then it comes,

Knocks me down

And leaves me breathless

With the pain of memories

Large and small.

If you want to help

Just offer me

The shelter of your Friendship

And a place to shed my tears.

Grief can and does knock me down at times, and today was one of those days. As Charlie's poem reflects, grief can leave you breathless, filled with memories, and at times it is hard to imagine ever feeling better. I was on the Internet today, and by accident, I landed on some promotion for Veggie Tales. Mattie loved this video series, and in fact, toward the end of his life, he couldn't fall asleep at night without me next to him and watching a Veggie Tales movie. Those nights seemed endless to me, however, now I long for those nights, because that would mean Mattie were still alive. It is amazing how a talking cucumber and tomato (characters featured in Veggie Tales) at one time made me smile, and now only bring me intense sadness.

I was scheduled to see the Nutcracker today with Ann and her family. However, our area was hit with a blizzard, and so far we have over 15 inches of snow, and it is STILL snowing. The District of Columbia, is experiencing a snow emergency, and the city will be digging out for days. The city can hardly handle a few inches of snow, but over a foot puts the entire area in a complete standstill. Peter and I tried to get to Ann today to pick her and the kids up to bring them to the city (where the Nutcracker was being performed). Peter has a four wheel drive vehicle, and thankfully has great skills driving in the snow. As we were driving, we could see that it really was too dangerous to be out and about. We saw a snow plow get stuck in the snow, and several cars spin off the road. We managed to make it to Ann's house, and then decided no performance was worth the risk to bring the kids out in a car today. We warmed up at Ann's house, I had hot tea, and chatted, but then we ventured back home.

We took some pictures of the snow. The picture on the right, shows the snow outside Ann's home. This is what the streets looked like today. The picture on the left, is of our deck. If you look closely, above our outdoor closet, Peter placed Mattie's Lightning McQueen ruler in the snow. You can clearly see the snow measures over a foot!

Left: A picture of the Lincoln Memorial in the distance. It was a white out today, so the Memorial almost blends into the background of the WHITE day.

I spent a good portion of the afternoon working on Mattie Miracle Foundation paperwork. While on the computer, Peter and I commented on how quiet it was outside. We live in the heart of the city, and ALWAYS hear both car and airplane traffic. Today, there was nothing to be heard. It was that peaceful.

I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "I am glad to hear that you and Peter continue to get out and meet with friends. It really is important not to let grief isolate you from your friends. It sounds as if the visit to the Georgetown campus was a good one; you and Mattie are firmly in the memories of all who interacted with you there and it is lovely that many of them were able to come down and visit with you. Trying to return to the PICU would be difficult for anyone and certainly should not be rushed, if in fact, you really feel the need to return to that particular place at all. As always follow your instincts, don't push things or yourself, and let people help you where they can. Friday night was the last night of Hanukkah and with all the candles lit (we add one each night) I hope that just as we add to the lights so may your sorrow burden be lightened a little each day. You remain in my thoughts."