This picture was taken a month before Mattie was diagnosed with cancer (June 2008). We took Mattie for a walk on Roosevelt Island, one of his favorite places to explore. It seems hard to imagine that Mattie had cancer ravaging his body at this point, and we did not even know it. He looked and seemed very healthy and happy. Thankfully Mattie participated in a tennis camp at the end of June and into July of 2008. Using his right arm intensely in camp caused Mattie to have enough arm pain to alert me to take him to the doctor. Without this camp, it is quite possible we may not have known Mattie had osteosarcoma until he perhaps broke a bone. Which is typically how children with osteosarcoma are initially diagnosed. In Mattie's case, his cancer was so aggressive, if we waited until he broke a bone, it most likely would have been too late to even treat the disease.
Poem of the day: Losing a Child by Lana Golembeski
People cannot understand
The hell in which I live,
Each and every day.
In one moment, I had a child.
In the blink of an eye
She was gone.
I cannot comprehend death.
I try and try to understand,
But I cannot.
My heart is torn apart
Like a bomb has exploded inside,
The pain is more than I could have ever imagined.
We think we can protect our children.
And when we can’t
We blame ourselves.
The tears well up in my eyes,
Every moment of
Every day.
Alicia, where did you go?
Why did you leave?
Why couldn’t you have stayed
At least a little while longer?
Why did you leave me behind?
I search each and every day,
To find hope,
And to find joy again.
How can I when you are gone?
Someone please tell me how to do that!
As the poem accurately questions, how do you find joy and hope again once you lose your child? It is an excellent question, of which I still have no answer. But one thing is for certain, there are endless poems written about grief and loss. Especially as it relates to the loss of a child. When I began to write the blog after Mattie's death, I began to post poems each day. I was certain that I would run out of poems some where along the line. However, this still hasn't happened. Which illustrates one thing very clearly.... dealing with the death of a child is life altering and causes others to write about it and to process their feelings through poetry. I find great comfort in many of these poems, because though I don't know the authors, the authors and I share a great commonality. We share the trauma of losing a child, and in many ways it is helpful to read the raw emotions and desperation expressed in these poems, because it normalizes how I am feeling.
Today was a hard day as we tried to re-enter back into our lives after being away for a week. Peter returned to work very early and then had business meetings in Baltimore in the afternoon. I had teary moments throughout the day. It seems that Ann and Karen can foresee which days will be more challenging for me. So they both kept me busy today in different ways. Karen lives in NYC and is a full time math teacher at the well known Fame school, and despite being at school, e-mailed me throughout the day. It is funny how an e-mail can make such a big difference. I met up with Ann and we went grocery shopping together, had lunch, and visited her mom. Ann's mom, Mary, was happy to see me. It is funny, I think Mary is so used to talking openly with me about different topics, that both Ann and Mary's aide, Shayla, commented that Mary's conversations changed today with my presence. I am not saying the conversations are for the better, but you have to understand Mary and I both lost a son to cancer, and this commonality helps us talk more freely about the realities of life. While talking with Mary today, it became abundantly clear how most institutional like settings devalue and demoralize the dignity of older adults. Several people came in and out of Mary's room and not one person asked her how she was feeling or even tried to address her emotional needs. I think people who work in institutions sometimes forget that they are dealing with human beings who have feelings and needs. I would like to think those who choose to work with older adults came to this employment with the idea that they could make a difference and truly cared about the welfare of the people they were caring for. Unfortunately this hasn't been my experience. Most of the people working in assisted living facilities and nursing homes are going through the motions, doing the bear minimum in order to qualify for a pay check. When you visit Mary, it is clear that many of the older adults in her facility never leave their rooms during the day. Many of them either remain in bed or are seated in a chair by their beds all day long. Mary's roommate for example, never has a visitor, and yet you can see how she hungers for human interaction. It is simply a sad commentary on the state of affairs for our older adult population, and I can't help when visiting Mary to worry about my own future. Peter and I are not fortunate enough to have a child who could potentially be around to oversee our care, like Ann is doing for Mary. All I can say is visiting an eldercare facility is an eye opener and a humbling experience.
When I came home this evening. I parked my car and as I was carrying groceries to our home, I came across a penny on the ground. I picked it up and immediately thought of Mattie. I will never look at pennies on the ground the same way after I read that poem I posted on the blog a few weeks ago. The poem stated that pennies on the ground are left there by angels. So as I had my difficult moments today, I did pause and I picked up the penny, and basically said, "thanks Mattie, I needed that. I am thinking of you too."
As I promised, I would upload some pictures I took during the Caribbean Princess' kitchen tour. Hope you enjoy them!
Left: In this picture you can see the chef on the ship (to the far left), with some of his lead kitchen staff. The man on the right with the white jacket who is standing side ways is the Maitre d' of the ship's restaurants. He and the chef were an absolute riot to listen to!
Right: A row of ovens in the kitchen. Mind you this is only one of many rows. However, the kitchen was absolutely spotless. Which is a feat considering the daily work and preparations that take place in it.
Left: The kitchen is also very creative. They made bouquets of vegetables for us to see.
Right: The kitchen also prepared an eagle out of chocolate. It took great restraint on my part not to break off a piece of the wing to sample the chocolate.
I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "Yesterday had to be really tough. All those children in the airport and then coming home to face all of Mattie’s things. Not that you don’t carry grief with you, with or without all the external reminders. I know that you do. Funny how our perception of scars can change. When Mattie was still alive we were emailing about scars as you were concerned about how some children might react to Mattie’s many surgical scars. I shared with you a note about a woman who had been through multiple surgeries and regarded her scars as “badges of honor” and that was how I saw Mattie’s scars. I always tell my friends who are concerned about their scars from C-sections as the first badge of honor as a mother and parent and so it is with you. It is the visible reminder of who Mattie is in your life along with all the other reminders that are inside of you. As you make your transition back here to DC, be patient and gentle with yourself. I hold you gently in my thoughts."
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