Tonight's picture was taken last St. Patrick's day! Mattie received these wonderful clover sunglasses and headband, and when he put them on, I thought he looked like the perfect spirit of the day! I can't believe that in just one year's time, my world looks so completely different.
Poem of the day: I am Learning How To Live by Jamey Wysocki
I am learning how to live
In a new way
Since that day
You were taken away
I am learning how to live
With the things left unsaid
Knowing I got to say them
With every tear that I shed
I am learning how to live
By embracing the pain
Knowing that you live on
Through the memories that remain
I am learning how to live
Knowing I will never again see your face
And I have peace knowing
You’re in a better place
I am learning how to live
Knowing you’re in God’s care
It gives me the strength to move on
And makes the pain much easier to bear.
"I am learning how to live." Or am I? Tonight's poem is intriguing. I agree I am learning how to live without Mattie. However, the word learning bothers me. I look upon learning as something that is positive, and something that I take on willingly. I did not choose to "learn" to live without Mattie, it was something that I was forced to deal with. As I see it, I have two choices in life now. I either deal with life without Mattie, or not live at all. That sounds rather black and white I am sure, but taking it down to the most basic levels this is what I am left with. However, I have experienced that through grieving it is very possible to be living, yet feel quite dead or empty inside. It takes great courage to work through those feelings.
It is interesting, over the last couple of days, I have reflected on life in general. Living in the Washington, DC area, people must work rather hard and long hours, just to afford to live here. However, in the process of working hard, it is easy to get stuck. Stuck in the daily grind, the routine, and forget about why one is working so hard in the first place. Before Mattie got sick, I was guilty of this. Going day to day, but not really appreciating what I had in front of me. I always felt that there had to be more to life than this, but really was complacent or simply accepted that this is what all responsible adults had to bear, especially while raising children. Now that Mattie is gone, I must say I question the whole daily struggles we put ourselves through. In a way, dealing with intense grief, has forced me to take a moratorium from life. I am left with the existential struggle of what is our purpose for being here on earth? I could come up with some trite answers to this philosophical question, but I am looking for a deeper or more profound answer.
I would like to share two stories with you. I had the opportunity to be outside Ann's house today, watching her daughter, Abigail, and our mutual friend, Katharina, climb a tree. Abigail and Katharina made a poem up about the tree. Basically the poem stated.... hug a tree when you are scared, and kiss a tree when you are sad. I then noticed that Abigail kissed the tree. Naturally I could only deduce from her poem that she was telling me she was sad. So I asked her. She said that she was sad at that moment, and when I asked her why, she said that she was sad because she was thinking of all the people in her life who have died. She then listed them, one of whom was Mattie. Abigail then told me about a very unique and creative game that she plays sometimes at recess in school. The game involves superheroes in heaven. In this play scheme Mattie is the mayor of the superhero town, and Abigail and Charlotte are the superheroes who enter this world to basically defend the town from the evil forces trying to get in and destroy the town. I am only sharing parts of the story with you, but what this illustrates to me is that death is a very real and complex topic and feeling for children. Unlike adults, where we either turn inward or talk through our thoughts and feelings, children play out these thoughts and emotions. Play is the work of children, and a great deal can be accomplished and learned through play. Abigail's story today made me pause because clearly her friendship with Mattie is a part of her, and perhaps will always be a part of her memory. The beauty of children is they tell you how they feel typically without an ulterior motive, and for Abigail, she was simply stating the facts, and wasn't trying to tell me a story to make me feel better. Ironically though her story did touch my heart, it meant even more to me because it wasn't planned. It just happened.
Later in the afternoon, Katharina, also a buddy of Mattie's, told me a story. She explained that she was creating something out of playdoh yesterday, and wanted to give me her final product. Katharina designed a beautiful necklace, and it had all three of Mattie's favorite colors in it: orange, red, and blue. She said to me, that she thought Mattie would want me to have this. Naturally I put the necklace on, because it was a very sensitive and thoughtful gift. It is during these unexpected moments, where I see that Mattie did touch so many lives, young lives. Yesterday, Katharina and Michael (Ann's son) overheard me talking to Ann about Mattie's upcoming birthday. I was explaining to Ann, that I am trying to plan some sort of gathering for our Georgetown University Hospital family to acknowledge Mattie's birthday. I was explaining that it is hard to plan such an event, or perhaps people would think such an event was unusual because Mattie is no longer alive. With that both Katharina and Michael corrected me. They said Mattie is alive. They pointed to my head and heart. Do I need to say anymore?! Sometimes children are much wiser than we give them credit to be.
I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "I am sorry you are not feeling well; grief is exhausting and self care is absolutely critical. I read about how Abigail made Mattie a part of her presentation on Russia. I agree with what she said, that when we remember Mattie in a setting or during something we are doing, he is with us in spirit. I am glad you have found a project to do (can’t wait to see the pictures of the centerpiece) and that you are getting out some and meeting up with friends. Finding your way is kind of like walking a maze filled with booby traps and unexpected surprises both positive and negative. You just don’t know what you will find around the next corner. Be gentle and patient with yourself today as you recover from your illness; I send you my healing energy from practice to help you. I hold you gently in my thoughts."
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