Tonight's picture was taken in November of 2002. Mattie was 7 months old. Ironically I captured Mattie in a carrier, however, I assure you this was a RARE occurrence. Mattie did not like to be immobilized in any way, and really disliked this carrier, his stroller, and his infant swing. We learned early on that Mattie preferred having his feet touch the ground! I remember buying Mattie this puppy dog hat in the picture, and it was one of my favorite hats on him.
Poem of the day: An Ocean of Grief by Ferna Lary Mills
I cautiously watch the water as it moves along the shore
creeping closer to the sand around my feet.
Beyond the crashing waves, where the water is deepest green
the ocean mirrors the depths of my grief.
My grief is like the ocean, sorrow coming in like waves,
sometimes gentle like a ripple on the sea.
Other times it just engulfs me with crushing waves of sadness
and undertows of despair pull down on me.
Some days I wade out in it, splashing memories with my feet,
recalling days of sunshine on my face.
Stepping through the foamy edges never venturing out so far
that larger waves can threaten their embrace.
Then when I least expect it this freak of nature soaks me
in reality so painful that I fall.
The sorrow and the anger that I've fought with day to day
surge through me in a tidal free-for-all.
One day when I'm much stronger and my grief is not so new
I'll swim just like I used to do before.
I'll take pleasure in the memories,
and tread water in those places
that we can't share together anymore.
I had the wonderful opportunity to spend the day with my friend Junko. Junko is Kazu's mom, and many of my faithful blog readers know that Kazu and Mattie met during summer camp at their school. I do believe that some things happen for a reason. Mattie was destined to go to camp before his kindergarten year and meet Kazu, and likewise, in the process I was supposed to meet Kazu's parents.
Those of you who have been on this cancer journey with us for some time, know that Junko would visit me often while Mattie was in the hospital. She would bring me some of my favorite salads (and chocolate treats!) and also in the process give me a massage. I know the hospital staff seemed overjoyed when Junko was around, because they felt that getting me out of Mattie's room and providing me with some moments of relaxation were imperative.
Junko took me to a spa in Washington, DC today. Though she introduced me to this spa several months ago, I never had the opportunity to go with her. So this morning Junko picked me up at my home, and we spent about five hours together. I certainly have had massages before, but Junko walked me through the process of how to prepare to relax prior to having the massage. We landed up sitting in an eucalyptus steam room together. We chatted and breathed in the wonderful aroma, and then moved into a sauna room. It was SO hot in the sauna room, that I asked Junko to read the thermometer in the room. It read 168 degrees, at which point, we got up and walked out of the room since we felt as if we were going to get cooked in there.
I would say I have always had a hard time relaxing, but post-cancer, it is virtually impossible. My mind is always on. However, the massage therapist I met today was truly a gem. I told Junko that I never met a therapist who took deep breaths while giving a massage. I could easily hear her! As first when I heard her doing this, it caught my attention, but by the next breath she took, two things happened, first I felt that she was relaxed and in tune with her job, and second, I began to be in tune to relaxing and trying to take deep breaths myself. By the time Dorothy finished with me, you could visibly see I was relaxed. Too bad I can't take her and the spa home with me, because I think the art of relaxing and clearing one's head are very therapeutic.
After the massage, Junko suggested we sit back in the steam room. We sat, drank water, and continued chatting. Spending a morning at a spa in many ways can be a very intimate experience with a friend, because it is uninterrupted time, time spent talking, sitting, and even chatting side by side as we were blow drying our hair. I am not very good a slowing down at times, but Junko timed things so we weren't rushed and that we could just appreciate the experience. Which I did!
We had a wonderful lunch together at the Four Season's, and we talked about so many subjects. I have no idea why Mattie got cancer, and I have no idea why he had to die. But one thing Mattie's illness did do, was it connected me with people who have altered my life, and continue to support me in incredible ways. I naturally would prefer to have Mattie in my life and to not have experienced cancer, but what I am sure of is that cancer was a wake up call of grand proportion. As I said to Ann yesterday and Junko today, cancer has caused me to take a moratorium from life. I am very fortunate that Peter allows me this time to try to cope with Mattie's loss in any way I can, which means not working, and not meeting most of the other mundane responsibilities that we face on a day to day basis. By having this moratorium, I can actually chose who I want to spend time with, what I want to do with my time, and reflect on my life and our lives together. It is my hope that during this time of reflection it will help me regain strength to carry on.
When I got home, I saw Peter had left me a message. I could hear that he sounded quite sick, and since it was pouring out, I jumped into the car and picked him up at work. I tried to get him to rest this afternoon, but when you are not feeling well, it is easy to become restless and unable to sleep. Naturally my biggest fear with his cough and congestion is that this is something he picked up in his journey to Africa. So I am watching him closely.
I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "I am glad you got away for a little while even though you know as I do that you can't leave grief behind for long. I understand what you are saying about the ocean; I grew up near the ocean and would go and walk the beach when I had things to think through and even now the ocean has a major part when I do visualization/ meditation. I read what you said about the feel of the sand and the sight and sound of the waves but what brings it together for me is the smell of the salt water. I am pleased that you enjoyed your time and that you could acknowledge when you were overwhelmed and that you could find your own space. As I practice today I will send you my energy to help you continue your search for that space of serenity within that comes when you need it most. I hold you gently in my thoughts."
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