Tonight's picture was taken in May of 2007, on Mother's day. I remember that day like it were yesterday and particularly recall Mattie's love and excitement. As I approach my first mother's day this year, I honestly can't think of a sadder day. Mother's day will always remind me of the role I only had for seven years. There are times I feel like my situation is so surreal that I am going to wake up from it. But unfortunately never do, instead it isn't a nightmare but my reality.
Poem of the day: Wednesday lost by Shaakiera Schroeder
As "The" day draws nearer
Spirits sink lower
Fears rise, higher.
Not completely sure why,
It's as if we expect something...or
"That" to happen again...
Anything worse...is impossible!
Still so unbelievable _ surreal almost.
Two months short of a year
And we continue to struggle to grasp the fact_
You're gone!
How do you go about planning an Angel Day...?
When you can't believe...
Yet register every Wednesday...
As we stare at the clock...silence engulfs...
We hold our breath...for that moment to pass...
I find myself praying that this Wednesday ...
Wednesday no: 45...I WAKE UP!
The nightmare is over!
When your mom calls ...I hear happiness _
Instead of the emptiness that fills her voice...
Her heart...her soul.
Sorrowfully...it's not a dream,
This is our heart aching reality...
Leaves an unnatural feeling in our souls...
"GOD give us strength to make it through TODAY"
I open my eyes and prepare to face,
The never shifting pain...
Aggravated and worsened...
By the FEAR of every Wednesday!
I woke up this morning greatly upset. I was upset because I had a very vivid dream that I was dying from pancreatic cancer. Naturally I do not have pancreatic cancer, but in my dream I certainly did. This whole vision was truly disturbing to me, and most likely reflects many of the fears and traumas I witnessed Mattie go through. Seeing Mattie suffer and eventually die has had and will continue to have a profound effect on Peter and I. This morning as I was in our kitchen, I saw Mattie's picture on the refrigerator. I see this picture each morning, but this morning it set me off. I imagine I reacted this way because I was so shaken by my dream, and that made me vulnerable to other feelings.
I spent a good portion of my day today visiting Honey at the George Washington University. As some of you may know, Honey is the director of the Human Services program at the University. I have worked for Honey as a part time faculty member for ten years, and it was very nice to be invited back today to spend the day with her. Honey has worked at the University for over 40 years, and announced this semester that she is retiring. This will be a major, major loss to the University and the program. However, the greatest honor those of us associated with the program can do is keep this program strong and vibrant, as a attribute to Honey's lasting legacy. I enjoyed my time with Honey and being back on campus. In a way it seems like I have been away from the University for decades, rather than two years. The University seems to signify life to me. Life because it is filled with energy and the wonderful ideals of undergraduates. It is hard to believe that at one time, I was that ideal, that hopeful, and that positive about the future. If someone would have told me when I was in college that I would eventually survive one of life's greatest tragedies, I most likely wouldn't have believed it.
As Friday approaches, I am looking forward to trying to make Mary's (Ann's mom) day engaging, happy, and stimulating. She knows I am bringing her lunch tomorrow, and in anticipation, she is really giving it great thought about what she would like to eat. So stay tuned. It is my hope that she enjoys her Friday, and that I also get to see her walking again. This time I will capture it on camera!
I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from my friend Charlie. Charlie wrote, "It is so hard when you have suffered a trauma and you are out of the flow of the world to realize that things have gone on without you. It is almost like being in a coma or a foreign country with no TV or newspapers when major events have taken place and you come back and realize that you have no idea how things got to where they are. Nor does anyone around you understand why you are still "elsewhere" in your mind. Sometimes I want to scream, "stop, something important has happened here" but I realize that it is only important to those of us who are directly involved in what has happened. What you are suffering is not just the loss of Mattie as he was, but Mattie as he would have been and all that went with that went with his life to be. I think those losses are just as hard as the current loss of his physical being in your life since you will have to live forever with those losses. I don't think people always get that and that's why they seem to think there will be a point at which you can "get over" the death of your son. I am someone who was resisting the pressure to practice on my own when I cannot get to class to practice with the group. When I told the instructor this, she said, do it anyway because practice on your own is good for other reasons which she would not name. I think I began to see her point today as I was on my own. I would get to a point where I was out of balance and needed more work and rather than having to move on with the group, I could try it again and get closer to where I need to be. I was able to take it at my own pace and explore the feeling in my head and in my body as I went through the practice changing things if I felt that would be more helpful. I see now what she means when she says you trade group energy for personal attention. So it is with most things. When you are with the group, the energy carries you through the rough spots but you can't stay and focus when that might be helpful. On the other hand you need much more self discipline to go it alone but the ability to test and explore is greater. So it is with grief as well. Friends can carry you over some of the rough spots but much of the work is done alone and with introspection. So I send you the energy I found today to help you through those times when only introspection will work. I hold you gently in my thoughts."
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