Tonight's picture was taken around July 4th of 2003. That was Mattie's first trip to the Outer Banks, NC. He was NOT a happy camper by the water or on the beach that year. So we spent a lot of time admiring the sights and sounds of the Atlantic Ocean from the deck of a house we rented. It is funny how cancer puts things into perspective quickly. Back then, when Mattie was one year old, my biggest problems were Mattie wasn't walking or talking yet. Those seemed like legitimate problems at the time. As I began to grow as a parent with Mattie, I learned that Mattie had his own time frame to do things, and he wasn't going to do anything unless he was ready. In many ways, once I learned that key to parenting Mattie, I began to realize that developmental bench marks are just that.... they are a guide, but not something that every child follows to the T. We sure had many ups and downs with Mattie prior to his cancer diagnosis, but one thing is for certain, it was through Mattie that Peter and I learned more about ourselves and life than we could ever have achieved through reading, education, and hearing stories from others.
Poem of the day: The Visit by Charlie Brown
You were here just yesterday
And oh, how much I wished you'd stay
Your visit, it was much too brief
And of my missing you, brought little relief
I saw your spirit in a butterfly
You came out of the empty sky
You visited each of your favorite things
And then you were gone on gossamer wings
I spoke to you when you were here
And told you of my greatest fear
That somehow I would lose your memory
And that Mattie's mom I would no longer be
You showed me with your presence yesterday
That you've never really gone away
And that you'll come back and visit me
Mattie, your mom, I will always be.
I want to thank many of you who wrote to me today to let me know how much you enjoyed seeing Mattie's flag flying on the blog yesterday. Mattie's flag continues to fly today as well, and hopefully through the summer.
Peter had a rough night of sleep and woke up feeling sick as well. So he was out of commission today. While he was resting, I went out to lunch with my friend and colleague, Denise, and her daughter, Marisa. Marisa babysat Mattie in the summer of 2009, before he died. She helped me on numerous occasions when I needed a break from being home and was drowning in the overwhelming care and emotions of Mattie's cancer. Babysitting a healthy 7 year old can be a challenge, but Marisa was confronted with a 7 year old dying from cancer. That is NOT an easy role to walk into. Watching Mattie meant really playing and entertaining him, but it also meant watching his EVERY move so he wouldn't hurt himself, and monitoring his symptoms and pain. The fact that Marisa did not shy away from working with us, says something about her character. I feel this way about all the young people who were willing to play with Mattie and who wanted to offer us a break. That kindness is a rare gift, and I must imagine that Mattie has influenced their lives somehow whether personally or career wise. Those of you who attended the Mattie Miracle Cancer Foundation Pediatric Cancer Walk, know Marisa. She coordinated the bake sales at both the 2009 and 2010 Walk.
I really hadn't been out of our home since Friday, so it was nice to get out and moving today. My energy level continues to improve which is a wonderful feeling, because on Saturday I truly thought I was very sick. I felt like I was in an absolute fog and listless. I chatted with Denise and Marisa about all sorts of things today. Denise and Marisa are very sensitive and non-judgmental. We talked about one of my favorite lines, "time heals all wounds." We talked about expectations and the expectations other people sometimes have for my healing process. The problem with that of course is there is NO real guideline for healing after the death of a child. There can't be a guideline, because grief and loss is very personal and is handled differently by each person. So therefore the expectations of others is really irrelevant for me. I have learned not to have expectations for my healing process, I instead take it one day at a time. It was a philosophy I adopted through Mattie's cancer, and sometimes that is the best one can do.
Denise did give me a reality check. I am sometimes not a good judge of my own accomplishments, and Denise wanted to let me know that she thought Peter and I are doing a fabulous job with the Foundation. We have achieved so much with it so far, and we have only lost Mattie 10 months ago. Denise was also reminiscing about the times she would come and guest lecture in my classes. She was telling Marisa that no matter what course I was teaching, students surrounded me to talk with me before and after class. I suppose I forgot those moments, or maybe I assumed that this happens to all professors. But as Denise aptly pointed out to me, that students surrounded me because of me, not because of my position. Either case, hearing Denise reflecting on the impact I may have made in my students' lives made me feel happy.
Toward the end of our lunch, Denise asked me if I was okay. I asked her why, because I did not feel visibly upset. Denise then focused on the baby who was sitting right next to us. The baby was fussing and crying, and Denise was correct. Typically this sight would have bothered me. In fact seeing pregnant women really bother me. To me seeing someone pregnant is a symbol to me of the joy I no longer have in my life. It also is a reminder to me that people have healthy children every day, but I wasn't as lucky. However, seeing the baby today did not bother me. I am not sure why. Maybe because I was too engrossed in conversation to really focus upon my surroundings.
After lunch I ran some chores and then came home to check on Peter. I made a dinner I thought his stomach could tolerate, and the poor guy, I had him eating outside tonight on the deck. Mind you it is 100 degrees in the shade in Washington, DC. Peter was a trooper, but neither one of us made it outside very long.
I would like to end tonight's posting with two messages. The first message is from my mom. My mom wrote, "I saw the picture of the flag flying from your balcony on the blog and it is awesome sight. It makes a statement about the outsized passion for living that Mattie brought to every project he undertook. What a wonderful contribution his big, beautiful flag made to the vista of the viewers who parked on the ramp across from your complex who were there to see the spectacular fireworks of the DC July 4th celebration. Even though Mattie was not physically present, his flag was there in his place and by flying his flag from the balcony, his actions of last year may have inspired others to fly flags of their own to commemorate the birth of our nation in future years. Here is another instance of Mattie's influence on the behavior of others through an action he initiated when he was alive. It is remarkable how Mattie touched many hearts and influenced many minds directly and indirectly in the short time he was with us! Incredibly, so many of them, he did not even know!"
The second one is from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "I am sorry that this holiday weekend continues to be physically difficult for you and Peter. I am not surprised by Mattie's choice of the largest flag he saw; he always seemed to do things in a big way once he'd made up his mind about what he wanted. I am sure he appreciated seeing that flag and I am sure it meant a lot to Peter to set it up and fly it from your balcony. I watched the fireworks last night and thought about Mattie and both of you and I am sure that many of Mattie's and your friends and family did as well. As Nancy so nicely stated, it is fortunate that you and Peter have each other for support and understanding; while it doesn't lessen the pain or speed the healing, it does strengthen the spirit and make the path a little easier to bear. I hold you gently in my thoughts."
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