Tonight's picture was taken in August of 2007. We took Mattie for a walk on Roosevelt Island, Washington, DC, while it was raining. Mattie loved the rain, and there was something very peaceful about walking in the rain. Mainly because few people were on the Island during that time, and we enjoyed hearing the sound of the rain hitting the trees and river. I also think that Mattie was looking forward to a rainy day, because he wanted a chance to use his new Lightning McQueen umbrella. When Mattie and I bought this umbrella together, I shared with him the story of when my mom bought me my first umbrella. I will never forget the saleperson's comment to me. I had to be around Mattie's age, and her comment was, 'I wish you only sunny days.' In theory that was a nice comment, but actually it was mean spirited in a way, because here I was a little girl excited to use an umbrella of my own, and she basically wished me NO rain. Mattie found this story equally troubling as I did! So when Mattie bought his umbrella, my comment to him was, 'may your umbrella always keep you dry on life's rainy days!'
Poem of the day: Missing by Charlie Brown
Even more than what they take
Children give us love
They are our life's blessing
Sent from up above
When you lose your child
Your arms are empty and cold
It is hard to think about never
Having a child to hug and hold
So on top of the grief and sadness
I miss his words of care
And hearing that I'm wanted
Now those times are rare
Feelings are important
And hugs and kisses too
So if you care about me
I need to hear it from you
It doesn't have to be a lot
Nothing very much
Just an arm around a shoulder
A hug, a kiss, a touch
These things are so important
And what we grievers need
Is for you to keep connecting
And watering friendships' seed
Charlie's poem, Missing, is very fitting for today. I started off the day in a rather grey mood, not unlike the weather. DC had terrible storms this morning, and when I heard the thunder and lightning, I did not want to get out of bed. Taking a vacation is a hard concept for me, which most likely explains why Peter and I rarely venture away from home. My lifetime friend, Karen, emailed me last night and asked me whether I thought I was allowed to be happy and to enjoy a vacation? It was a good question because it gets to the heart of the problem. Logically, the answer is 'sure,' we deserve a vacation and to be happy together, but emotionally I would not give the same response.
Peter and I chatted the whole car trip to the beach. While in the car, Ann called me periodically along the way, because she knows leaving home is challenging for me. We made two stops along our journey. One stop was at a local farmer's stand and the second stop was for lunch. At lunch, Peter was chatting with me, and I am not sure what he said, but out came the tears. He joked with me, because he wanted to know if there was a key word that triggered these tears. Since I usually land up crying at lunch time with him. Naturally there is NO key word. My emotions are not that simple. This vacation is very important for Peter, because unlike myself, he doesn't have the time to heal and to focus upon his thoughts and emotions since he works full time. So I realize how much this week means to him and to us.
I am trying to pull myself together since I still feel ill, have a migraine that just won't go away, and I have developed a very unhealthy sleeping pattern. Each night I wake up at 3am, and then find that I am unable to get back to sleep. It is my hope that I can break this very toxic cycle. When we arrived today at Ellen's house, Peter and I went for a walk in the area. Mind you it was hot out, but I really needed the fresh air. Peter was a real sport, and managed walking around with me. Later in the afternoon, Ellen and Charlotte returned home and we sat and chatted for a while before dinner. Charlotte told us about her drama camp and the performance she will be in tomorrrow. Charlotte asked us tonight if we would consider going to her play. In my mind Mattie will always be 7, however, when I see Charlotte, I see that she is no longer the seven year old that I remember. She is growing, maturing, and discovering herself. Part of me can't help but wonder what would Mattie have been like now. Charlotte is an excellent conversationalist, and we talked for quite some time about all sorts of things and about her upcoming trip on Saturday to the Grand Canyon.
This evening, Charlotte picked the restaurant we had dinner at. She selected a restaurant right on the water, sitting outside. It was a wonderful view and we all had a good time together. Peter and I both agreed that Mattie would have wanted to be here on this adventure and with his friend, Charlotte. But some things were not meant to be.
I received messages from Charlie and Nancy today letting me know how much they liked what I did to Abbie's room yesterday. That brought a smile to my face. When Nancy writes to me, she signs off her e-mails as "much love always and in all ways." I told Nancy, I never heard this line before until I saw some of the letters Ann had written to her parents over the years. Ann has created many wonderful photo albums for her parents that highlight their lives together. Many months ago, Mary and I were revisiting these albums together, and as I was reading Ann's letter to Mary, I was very touched by the line "love always and in all ways." Actually when reading it to Mary, I landed up crying, because I couldn't think of a more loving salutation than this! When Nancy began signing her emails to me with this deeply touching salutation, I paused in my tracks. I am sure I wouldn't have even noticed Ann's or Nancy's line prior to Mattie's death, but now that a great love in my life is gone, I take great notice to words of love and devotion. I feel honored to receive this written gift of love, and to know that I mean something quite special to my friend.
I would like to end tonight's posting with two messages. The first message is from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "First, I have to say that I never would have guessed what you were planning to put on the side of that bookcase and that I am very impressed by your creativeness. It looks like something created by the designers on HGTV; perhaps that is your next career move? I am so glad you kept busy yesterday and that you had lots of people who care about you to connect with. Connections with those we care about and who care about us are what make us who we are. There have been many studies on social interaction and physical connection and they all show that without these things people become depressed, ill and even die before their time. And yet, many of us go through our day without making any of these connections at all; is it any wonder our society has so many problems? I am so glad that Mary, Ann's mom, finally had her "visit" from her son. Like Mary, I believe Mattie will come to you in time; in the meantime he will probably connect via the other people in your life so stay tuned for messages. I hope you have good weather at the beach and that you are able to get out and enjoy the water and relax and heal. I hold you gently in my thoughts."
The second message is from my friend and colleague, Nancy. Nancy wrote, "BRAVO! BRAVO! Abbie's room, at least the parts you showed are awesome. Like Charlie, I couldn't imagine how you would transform the clamp into a beautiful holder for her precious animals. It is fantastic! You used so much creativity and put a bit of her friend, Mattie, in her room for safe keeping. I am glad that you were part of this project. You have so much to give, especially to 'little people' and I know this is a big void for you with Mattie's death. You accomplished two things: helping Ann and Abigail and got to go through the stage of changing a growing child's room. I believe Mattie likes his friend's room too. Mary is so much a part of your life too. What a wonderful gift yesterday! Somehow when grieving so deeply we can't believe that anything will feel right again. I think we've spoken about this earlier, yet, want to say again that once one door closes, another does open. You are gently letting some happier moments in and that, I think, is healing the cracks caused by Mattie's death. You will always see and wonder how Mattie would handle future stages of growth. He is and was your very special connection to the world. It is interesting how we can see things differently. I'm speaking of your comments regarding Mattie's eyes in today's picture. At first, all I could see was his missing tooth and then you talked about his eyes. They are not as bright, but, he did seem glad about losing his tooth, in spite of his pain. How special! Your love and gentle way certainly transformed into your courageous Mattie. We are expecting rain today and I hope you will not have the same weather for your trip to Bethany Beach. May this trip bring you greater healing and peace. May you keep finding the happiness that still exists for Peter and you. With much love always and in all ways."
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