Tonight's picture was taken in May of 2007, in Lancaster, PA. Over Memorial Day weekend in 2007, we introduced Mattie to the Amish culture and the beauty of rural Pennsylvania. On our trip, we took Mattie to a pretzel factory, and he actually got to roll the dough and shape it into a pretzel. You can see his creativity in his hand. It was a fun visit, but I am afraid to say, Mattie did not want to taste the finished product! Mattie was always about the process and not necessarily about the product.
Poem of the day: Metamorphosis by Charlie Brown
Was your departure a metamorphosis?
If so my beloved boy
Where are you now?
I like to think of you as
Being everywhere you once were
Enjoying those same things
On a new plane of existence
Where play never ends
You feel no pain
And angels, unlike parents
Never cry.
The last line in tonight's poem captures my attention, "...and angels, unlike parents never cry." It certainly is my utmost hope that Mattie is in heaven and is in great peace. That he is surrounded by our relatives and friends who have died and gone to rest, and there is NO sadness and NO pain around him. As a person who was raised Catholic, I always was taught that God gave up his only son, Jesus, so that we would have eternal life. I have to admit I accepted this belief all my life, but when Mattie developed cancer and then died, I am left wondering. What if there is no heaven? I have mixed feelings about this doubt. On one hand I think any philosophy, religion being included, has and will always be challenged and questioned. Certainly losing a child shatters one's entire belief system, and unfortunately one's spiritual and religious beliefs can some times be affected. But on the other hand, I feel guilt for expressing this because part of believing in God is also having faith even under times of great distress. I very much want to believe that Mattie is at peace, but I am and will always be his mother, and as his mother I guess unless I can see it or feel it for myself, I am just not sure.
Many of my readers have heard me mention my friend, Junko before. Junko's son, Kazu, and Mattie were good buddies. In fact, they met each other during their school's summer camp, a few months before they entered kindergarten. Junko faithfully visited me at Georgetown Hospital. With each visit, she always brought me one of my two favorite things, lobster or shrimp, and naturally chocolate. However, Junko never left me without giving me a back massage. Junko works full-time, and also has two children, but despite all she balanced, she always made time to see me. These acts of kindness and love will never be forgotten. Today, Junko treated me and two other friends to a massage at a lovely hotel in Georgetown. Thinking about myself and caring for myself are not my best traits, but I freely accepted this special treat, as well as connecting with Ellen (Charlotte's mom) and Luda (My "chapel buddy" at Mattie's school. Mattie's school has chapel every Tuesday, and I enjoyed attending each week that Mattie was in kindergarten. Luda and I sat next to each other during the services.) at lunch.
This afternoon, I had the chance to spend some time with Ann and her family. Mary (Ann's mom) visited Ann's house today, and as always I had a lovely time with Mary. I told her about my day and what it was like to have a massage. She was very interested in the whole process. When Ann's daughter, Abigail, came home from school her playfulness instantly reminded me of Mattie. In fact, at one point Abigail put her forehead up to mine and was staring into my eyes. This is exactly what Mattie used to do with me quite often. Abigail reminded me of Mattie. The healthy Mattie, the playful and carefree Mattie. NOT the sick with cancer Mattie. Internally I stopped and reflected. These are the tender moments I miss greatly, but always took for granted, thinking I would always have them. All I can say now is I am SO happy I stopped each day and had these moments. Because at the end of the day, I am not reflecting on how much work I got done, or what I accomplished professionally, I am instead thankful that I ALWAYS made time for Mattie. Looking into Abigail's eyes reminded me of the wonderful feeling you get when looking into a child's eyes. Abigail's eyes are happy, young, and innocent, just like Mattie's eyes.
I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "I am glad you got to be out and about with Kristen yesterday. I've been to the gardens and enjoyed the orchids while marveling at the wonderful diversity of life and how it is all interconnected. As you said, each orchid has its own pollinator and way of reproducing itself and even as difficult and strange as some of those are, enough are successful for the species to continue. We too, live in a web of interconnectedness and yet, often we go about totally unaware of our part in the great design that is our life and our community. Mattie's illness and death have certainly brought this much more clearly to my awareness although I would as you have said before, "happily remained ignorant" if it meant he would still be with us. I went into today's practice expecting one thing and was surprised and (truthfully, not very pleased) to be faced with something else. Then I thought of you and decided to find the positive in it and send it your way. As a result what could have been disappointing showed me another possibility to be explored. I hold you gently in my thoughts."
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