Monday, August 16, 2010

Monday, August 16, 2010

Tonight's picture was taken in March of 2003. This was Mattie's first trip to California, at 11 months old. Mattie's first plane trip was an experience, because in typical Mattie fashion he did not SLEEP at all. In fact, for a portion of the flight, he and I were literally on the floor by our seats playing with toys. This picture was taken at one of my favorite gardens in Los Angeles, Huntington Library's Gardens in Pasadena. As you can see Mattie's favorite mode of transportation was on Peter's back. Prior to the back pack, being mobile with Mattie was challenging. He did not like the motion of strollers and despised being in any sort of baby carrier. In fact, with Mattie, I came to love four things, and never wanted to part with them. They were the keys to our survival with him! They were his entertainment saucer, his Graco jumper which attached to the threshold of any door, his walker (aka, tot wheels), and the back pack!


Poem of the day: Messages by Charlie Brown

Sometimes the message comes in "code"
Sometimes it comes in "clear"
Maybe I'm just imagining it
That at times you seem so near.
When I walk the beach
And look up at the stars,
I find that I have hope
I can heal without too many scars.
But at others times I'm saddened
And I feel so all alone,
Then the grief seems unbearable
And my heart and soul just moan.
This year of mourning is ending
But there is no end to my grief
Sometimes I think I'm conquering it
But then I'm blown just like a leaf.
At what point can I be happy,
Can I find joy in my life?
Without the grief and the guilt,
That cut just like a knife.
People say you'd want me to be happy,
To find a way to go on without you.
In my mind I know you would,
But my heart can't yet admit that's true.

I believe Charlie's poem entitled, Messages, speaks volumes. I do look toward nature and my environment to keep connected with Mattie. I see messages or codes in butterflies, birds, stars, and now talking seagulls! Actually as I write this, it sounds hysterical, and if I wasn't of sound mind, I would really wonder about what I am writing. But losing Mattie has left me grasping at straws sometimes. Charlie is correct, this year of mourning is coming to an end in calendar date ONLY, because there is NO end to our grief. We carry it and wear it where ever we go. Sometimes you can see it, but most times, it is an internal scar you can't see, I can only feel it deeply.

Peter and I drove to Lewes, Delaware today. Lewes is the FIRST city in the FIRST State. It is a charming and sleepy town filled with history and shops. While on our drive, I saw this huge wind turbine in a beautiful field. The turbine is part of the University of Delaware, but it wasn't a sight I was expecting to see. I found myself fascinated with it, and was compelled to take a picture of it. I then googled this sighting tonight and here is what I found out:

The University of Delaware and Gamesa Technology Corporation joined forces to install a utility-scale 2-megawatt (2-MW) wind turbine at UD’s Hugh R. Sharp Campus in Lewes. The joint venture, First State Marine Wind, is a partnership between UD-owned Blue Hen Wind and Gamesa USA. This partnership came about because of synergies that emerged from wind research being conducted at UD’s College of Earth, Ocean, and Environment and College of Engineering, the State of Delaware’s interest in offshore wind, the City of Lewes’ interest in innovative energy opportunities, and Gamesa’s interest in improving its understanding of the effects of marine conditions such as salt spray on turbine coatings, corrosion, and avian impacts.

This afternoon, Peter and I met up with our friend, Tamra and her family. We met at a restaurant in Lewes called the Buttery, which had lovely Victorian charm. Today was Meredith's (one of Tamra's daughters) 17th birthday. Peter and I are very fond of Meredith and her sister, Louise. These young women were very generous with their time when Mattie was sick, they would visit him, bring him creative and special gifts, and when we were home between hospitalizations, they would come over to play with Mattie so that Peter and I could get a minute to recharge our sanity. As I told Meredith today, Peter and I will never forget their kindness and the moments they had with Mattie. Such thoughtfulness and humanness doesn't go unnoticed with me, and this helps to explain why these women have a special place in my heart. Lunch was lovely, and we sat outside on the veranda of the restaurant. I thought it was charming, and Peter was a good sport, especially since he isn't a hot weather fan like I am. I guess what today's lunch illustrated to me was the friendships Mattie helped to create for me. We talked to Tamra about friendships and my philosophy since cancer has changed the way I look at the world and people. Cancer has made me experience people on a deeper and more intense level. I wish I could have learned this in some other fashion, but I guess I would feel worse if I was writing each night about my loss and had to reveal that I haven't learned anything from all of this, that with Mattie's death, my heart and mind also died. To some extent there are days that I do feel this way, but then I reach deeply to reflect on who Mattie left behind for me. Some days this simple yet beautiful notion gets me through the day!

After a delightful lunch filled with conversation, I decided to walk around the town and explore the buildings and the shops. It is a small town, so this is VERY doable. Peter retreated to air conditioning for a bit, but then returned outside with me.

Before dinner, Peter and I headed to walk the beach. The sun was out over the water, and everything had a much different feel to it from yesterday's overcast look. Peter snapped a close up on my favorite beach bird, the piping plover. I love these birds, because to me they are like the ballerinas of the bird world. They have long and slender legs, and they move with the utmost grace. 

We returned to the same spot on the beach where we sat yesterday. Certainly there were many other seagulls flying overhead, but I found it absolutely fascinating that while we were sitting watching the waves tonight, a seagull came to sit by us for quite some time. In my mind this was Christobal coming back to say hello. If you think I have lost it with these seagulls, then Peter would agree with you! 

It is funny, on vacation, I used to take pictures of Mattie. Now I land up taking pictures of birds and other sources of nature. Not sure what this all means, other than it gives me something beautiful to look at and concentrate on. However, I do admit that at times I can be funny about this, and I am sure to the average person this may seem odd.

As I was sitting with Peter today, I told him that I remembered how Mattie would call him, "Daddy." I can literally hear it in my head, but that I do not recall so easily how Mattie called out to me. Peter agreed with me that it is more challenging to remember this mainly because Mattie did not usually call out mom or mommy. Like myself, he liked to use cute names for people, and my nickname was "Una Moona." That word or name I can distinctly recall in my head, especially since Mattie had a song about Una Moona that he created and would sing often.

While cooking dinner, I called Ann back. Her cousin, JP, is visiting with her this week, and yesterday while they were driving back from Boston to Virginia, I had the opportunity to chat with them periodically. It was a 12 hour drive, with a ton of traffic. So JP and I had many times to converse along their endless journey. It was touching to hear that JP wanted to talk with me today too, since he got used to our calls yesterday. That brought a smile to my face, as did a text message I received from Mary's (Ann's mom) caregiver today. Mary is concerned about me, the fact that I have been sick for a while, and she wanted me to know she was thinking of me today. What is my point to all of this? I guess the point is as human beings it is vital to feel connected to something and to people, and hearing that I was missed today in some way, was a feeling that reminded me that I am alive.

I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "It is very hard to get back on "track" once your cycle has been so disrupted. It many take a trip to a specialist who can help you to "reprogram" your body and mind to relax, fall and stay asleep. I know there are sleeping pills available, but you might want to try more natural, self controlled methods first if your situation doesn't improve soon. I am sorry you lost your pictures of the gull but I am sure the entire thing must have been hysterical. I can see you and Peter in my mind's eye, feeding this gull, having him respond to Peter and Peter having a conversation with him. As you said, Mattie would have found this all hysterically funny and I can imagine him telling Abbie, Charlotte and his other friends about it, flapping his arms and making the sounds that Peter and the gull made. I've seen shooting stars and so I understand why you were unsure about whether you had seen one. They are beautiful but they are so quick to pass that it leaves you wondering if you really saw them at all. The stone that you saw in the garden is inscribed truly I think. Those who we have held in our arms for a little while, are held in our arms forever. What a lovely way to memorialize a young soul who left sooner than they should have. And a garden is a perfect place for such a stone; it is a reminder that life can rise again even after a season of barrenness. May your life be able to nourish the new, fragile shoots of joy that you find in your days going forward. I hold you gently in my thoughts."