Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Tuesday, December 1, 2009 -- Mattie died 12 weeks ago today.

This picture was taken in December of 2004. In celebration of the Christmas season, we took Mattie to the B & O Railroad Museum in Baltimore, MD. He had a wonderful time seeing Christmas train displays and even riding on an authentic locomotive. I remember taking this picture of Peter and Mattie. Mattie was thoroughly excited to sit by the window of the train and was eagerly awaiting it to move away from the station. What you need to understand at age, 2 and a half, Mattie was enamored by trains!

Poem of the day: Because Of You by Faye Kilday

Because of you,
The world is a much nicer place.
Because of you,
I have faith in the human race.
Because of you,
I know what it means to love unconditionally.
Because of you,
I know what it means to give unselfishly.
Because of you,
I believe in magic and mystery and worlds unseen.
Because of you,
There is joy - wherever you are and have ever been.
And all because of you!



Today I had a follow up visit with the neurologist. Some of you may remember I told you about this fellow a few weeks ago. Unlike our first visit (which from my perspective did not go well), today, he was personable, empathetic, and was listening. He is trying to work on a strategy to attack my headaches, and I left today with a different prescription, but with a better feeling about our whole interaction. At this stage of my life, I freely admit that I need extra hand holding, and I need a doctor who will listen to me and my reactions to things. So the day started out better than I had planned.

I met up with Ann today for lunch. After being at home for the past two days, getting out was important. Despite how I am feeling on any given day, I do appreciate how Ann and Karen (my lifetime friend in NYC) are able to somehow draw me out, and some days I assure you it isn't easy. While I was at Ann's house later this afternoon, Ellen and her daughter, Charlotte, came over to visit. Charlotte and Abigail (one of Ann's daughters) are performing in an ice skating show later in the month together, and the girls were brainstorming the costumes they wish to wear for the show. It was fun and yet sad to see Charlotte and Abigail together, because in a way, there was an important person missing from the mix, Mattie. Mattie was very fond of both Charlotte and Abigail, and when I see these girls growing before my eyes, I imagine in my head what Mattie would have looked like as he grew older. On any given day, Mattie assured me he was going to marry Charlotte or Abigail, and like any good mom would have done with a child with a terminal illness, I allowed him to be hopeful and dream.

It was nice to connect with Ellen today, and to hear about her family and share stories. It is moments like this where I have glimpses of feeling like a part of something and yet of course, am aware of the things that I am no longer a part of. December for Mattie would have meant teacher gifts, baking things together, decorating, taking a Mattie Christmas photo for our cards, thinking about Christmas gifts, attending the holiday concert at his school, and the list goes on. Without Mattie, all of these things get wiped away. When Mattie died 12 weeks ago today, with him went a part of Peter and I. Trying to pull one's self out of the depths of losing a child almost feels like trying to hold the ocean back from hitting the shoreline. In other words, it feels impossible.

Peter went out to dinner tonight with a friend, and instead of being alone, Ann invited me to stay for dinner with her family. Her children were in a jovial mood and I just couldn't help but laugh while listening to them. Ann's house is all decorated for Christmas and for some reason today that did not bother me. Maybe because there is something very peaceful about looking at a pine tree with lights on it. On her tree are ornaments that her children made throughout the years. Several of which I recognized since Mattie designed similar ornaments in preschool. Mattie's ornaments will always hold a special place in my heart, and perhaps in the future, there will be a time when I will feel the need to pull out our Christmas boxes to find these ornaments. This year is clearly not that year.

I would like to end tonight's posting with three messages. The first message is from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "I saw this poem and thought immediately of Mattie. As much as his death brought you sorrow, his life brought so much joy. When I read the line about magic and mystery, two things he really enjoyed, I knew that I had to share this poem with you. I had to smile when I read your blog yesterday about the centerpiece you are making for Ann. I could almost hear Mattie directing where you might glue things or how to make it more "interesting." I hope you will post a picture of it to the blog when you are finished. As for going away, that decision is up to you. While I realize you can be grieving regardless of where you are, perhaps having a break from being totally surrounded by Mattie's things and places he loved would give you some space for a little serenity. Charleston is a lovely city with much to recommend it and the pace of life is a bit slower there. If you choose not to go, make it because you chose to stay here and do something deliberate here, not as a failure to plan something even with the load of grief that you carry. If you choose to stay here, plan something, preferably something you have not done on the holiday before. Do charity work, go out to eat Chinese food on Christmas (that's a non Christian thing), go somewhere locally that you have not been. This time needs a plan, it doesn't have to be a big plan nor does it have to include a lot of people, but it needs a plan. Please be gentle with yourself, and as I have done for the past several months, I dedicate my practice and the serenity I find in it, to you today."

The second message is from Mattie's oncologist and now our friend, Kristen. Kristen writes each Tuesday to acknowledge the day Mattie died. Kristen wrote, "I am thinking of you today and everyday. I am thinking how life should be easier for you...but I can only imagine, with each passing week, facets of life are only more difficult. I know at times you are surrounded by a cloud, even on the warmest and sunniest of days. But realize those that love you and care for you blanket you too with their warm embrace and the reflection of joy that your Mattie brought into their lives."

The third message is from a former student of mine. Betsy wrote, "I'm sorry I haven't written in so long. It certainly isn't because I haven't been thinking of you. Life has gotten a bit hectic the past month, but please know that you are often in my thoughts. I just wanted to drop a quick line because I read your blog this morning, and I grew up reading The Littlest Angel. In fact, when Mattie died, I immediately thought of that book. I love that story and the wonderful meaning it has. Mattie's genuine compassion for others and his beautiful gifts are enriching the world that he is in now - I have no doubt. I know this is a very difficult season to be in right now. Take it day by day. You will get through it even though I know at moments it seems impossible or pointless. Remember that Mattie is still watching and learning from you, and he is so proud to call you mom."