Tonight's picture was taken in October of 2008, at Baltimore's Inner Harbor. My parents, Peter, and I took Mattie to the water right before his first limb salvaging surgery. I remember this trip all too well, and I remember the fear I felt as I knew Mattie was going to face major surgery. However, despite my worst fears at that particular moment in time, I had no idea that in less than a year Mattie would be dead. I guess as a parent fighting for your child's life, you remove that thought from your head in order to mobilize forces to fight cancer.
Poem of the day: Colors by Sally
The Earth lost all its color the day you went away
I look around and all I see are different shades of gray
If I traveled up to space
and looked in the rear view mirror
The Earth would be as pale as the moon
Without you living here.
The forests dull, fields turning brown
All I know each day is that you're not around.
Bright orange poppies?? Amazing color you might see...
But even they look faded...
insignificant to me.
Where did the beauty go? Why can't I see it?
Why did the world fade away.
It doesn't look the same, you know
Without you here.
Everywhere I look
I see only that you are not there.
Your sparkle and luster gone from my world.
So I wait....
I can't imagine how much brighter Heaven is today
Since you took all the colors from Earth with you...
The day you went away.
Green vibrant and alive
Red full of energy
Yellow bursting with warmth and fun
Blue beautiful and endless and the sea.
All faded without you.
Now...only gray
This poem, Colors, describes how Peter and I see the world now. While everyone around us sees the world most likely as they saw it last year, with trees and grass being green and the sky being blue, the world no longer looks recognizable to us. In fact I am in amazement that the world continued spinning and peoples' lives kept evolving, while we suffered a trauma beyond imagination. However, unlike national or international crises that are covered on CNN and Fox News 24 hours a day, our crisis was just that.... our crisis! The world wasn't mourning with us, the world did not stop and reflect that a seven year old boy battled the impossible and lost the cancer war. A war that too many children lose each and every day! Families are left traumatized from this loss, and yet it is a private loss. An indescribable loss, and a loss that most definitely affects the colors, people, and experiences you see and feel from that point forward.
I went to visit Mary, Ann's mom, this afternoon. Ann and Bob sent more than one picture today for us to look at, and it is wonderful for us to be able to see how they are doing on vacation. For Mary and myself, it pulls us out of our inner worlds and it gives us a lot to talk about. I missed Mary's physical therapy session today, but I hear she walked some more today. I look forward to seeing the session on Friday and actually taking pictures! Mary shared many stories with me today and at one point she stopped and asked me if hearing her stories made me sad. She wanted to know if they made me think of Mattie more. I told her that I always think of Mattie, but that her stories are a very good distraction for me. They also allow me the opportunity to understand her better. Mary reflected on her recent hospitalization in January. Though she may not recall why she was hospitalized or what procedures and tests she had, she is very cognizant of the fact that I spent many hours with her each day at the hospital. She said she is not sure how she got lucky enough to have a friend like me. It was a very loving and special comment for me to receive, and I told Mary that the feeling was mutual. At which point she grabbed my hand and held it.
Prior to coming to see Mary, I got myself quite upset with the notion that Mattie isn't coming back. Which of course I knew, but by not coming back, it means something quite significant for our lives. The family holidays I was hoping for are gone, the future of different Mattie milestones and vacations are gone, and the list of other 'not happenings' only seemed to grow longer. Losing Mattie is such a tremendous loss that most days I simply do not have the fortitude to focus upon it. But something was different about today. I text messaged Peter while in this state, and naturally I knew he would get it immediately, because he was most likely in the same place. Peter went to Georgetown University Hospital today. Each month he serves of the hospital's oncology institutional review board, as a community member. I always wonder how he manages to walk through the rose garden and to see all the areas we used to walk and explore with Mattie. I do not even have to ask, because I know the answer is.... it is just impossible.
I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from my friend Charlie. Charlie wrote, "How wonderful that Mary is able to get up and begin to move around with a walker. Being able to move about by oneself with the aid of a walker has to be a tremendous boost to her self esteem and independence. One of the big issues that causes depression in the elderly is their growing dependence on others; any step in the opposite direction is to be celebrated. This will be a nice surprise for Ann when she gets back. How lovely that you saw the deer in the back of the living facility; access to nature and other living beings is so important for everyone's mental health and I would take it as a sign that Mattie is around since female deer tend to keep their babies hidden when in populated areas. Today's practice was all about personal challenges, to push oneself into the zone of mild discomfort in order to make progress. I can see how that applies to almost anything in life, if you stay forever in the comfort zone you never move forward. I sent my determination to continue to progress to you as my intention for today. I hold you gently in my thoughts."
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