Tonight's picture was taken in July of 2009. Mattie was in the Lombardi Clinic with Peter and his big buddy, Brandon. I missed this excitement, but apparently Jenny (one of Mattie's amazing art therapists) inspired this creation that stands before you, by giving Mattie a styrofoam head that day. With just the head, Mattie transformed it into a whole character. I introduce you to Dr. Crazyhair. Dr. Crazyhair has feathers for hair, he has an oyster shell in his pocket which was supposed to represent a patient's toenail that he pulled out, a stethoscope made out of pipe cleaners, and wears rubber gloves on his hands. The reason I am sharing Dr. Crazyhair with you tonight is because I was moving things around in our living room today, and one of the things I relocated was this fellow. He needed to be relocated because the other day, he collapsed right onto a begonia we brought inside. The begonia is still in shock from this encounter. Dr. Crazyhair takes up space, but to me it captures Mattie's humor and creativity. These are talents Mattie had even when his body was slowly being taken over by osteosarcoma. Hard to believe behind that beautiful smile lies a killer we could never see or stop.
ABUNDANCE by Nancy Heller Moskowitz
It is so early, I've tossed and turned for...
My mind filled with many images
Each vying for a voice, a way to make sense
Of all that I am feeling.
The wind howled outside the window
Rain seemed to fall like a crashing wave against the surf.
It was there and then, SILENCE!
My mind was not silent.
I rarely leave the house without my book
To capture the moment, often confusing
As I jump from idea to idea.
How do I settle myself these days?
By writing.
As I was trying to fall asleep last night, a major thunder and lightning storm was occurring in the background. Storms were always something Mattie and Peter liked to watch together. In fact, they would open all the doors and windows in our home and examine the clouds, wind, and color of the sky. They would give me periodic updates on the a storm's progression. I did not share the same love and excitement for storms, but I always enjoyed watching them bond over this natural occurrence. Some how as I was drifting off to sleep, I had this image of Peter and Mattie in my head, and wondering if Mattie was watching this storm along with me last night.
I woke up this morning to a beautiful email from my friend Nancy. Nancy wrote tonight's poem and what strikes me about the poem is the last two lines..... "how do I settle myself these days? By writing." Writing has been the only constant and stable factor in my life for the past two years. It has become part of my routine and I am fortunate that there are still readers interested and willing to read the blog.
I spent the day doing chores at home and then met Ann and her mom briefly. Mary (Ann's mom) has a cousin visiting, and it was lovely to finally meet a person I have heard so much about for the past two years. When Mary saw me today, she asked me where I was last night. What this translates into was she missed seeing me especially since we spent every evening together last week. It is always nice to hear when you are thought about and missed. I am not sure why today was a particularly hard day for me. It could be the continuation of yesterday's meeting and having to reflect on Mattie's death and end of life care. It could also be the aftermath of attending the Time of Remembrance ceremony on Sunday. Or it could just be me. On my mind today was that Ann's daughter was celebrating her 13th birthday. This is a huge milestone developmentally, becoming a teenager, and of course as you see your child grow and mature, it is a special occasion for a parent. As Ann was talking to Mary about the birth of her daughter 13 years ago, I had mixed feelings. I understood Ann's happiness, her sweet memories, and her thoughts about the future. However, at the same time I couldn't help but feel upset, angry, and saddened. Saddened because Mattie did not get a chance to have another birthday, and that I won't get the chance to be a parent and watch him grow. In fact these feelings were racing through my head all day, and I feel badly for even having them because as Ann's friend, I should be happy for her.
After lunch, I meandered through the Hallmark store. Well meandered may not describe my pace, perhaps flying through the aisles would be more appropriate. As I was flying by, I noticed a woman in red out of the corner of my eye. Despite moving fast, my mind registered that I knew this person, and therefore I stopped and backed up. It was Margaret (Mattie's preschool teacher and my friend). Margaret chuckled over my pace through the store, and as Margaret and I were talking, I slowed down and began appreciating the things around me. Margaret and I are scheduled to see each other for lunch tomorrow, so our chance meeting today was just meant to happen.
The hallmark store is a challenging place for me, even on a good day. But today was overload. The store has Christmas music playing, Christmas ornaments everywhere, and the colors and glow of the holidays. As I was absorbing all of this, one conclusion jumped out at me, Christmas (or at least the holiday that is marketed to our society) is for children. Without a child in your life, Christmas looks a bit different. If you think I am wrong, then I suggest you go out to a store this week, and enter it with the mindset that you don't have a child in your life. I would be curious to know how this makes you feel!?
I received a beautiful posting from Karen. Karen (not my lifetime friend, Karen) is Keaton's mom. Keaton died from Osteosarcoma, like Mattie. Karen and I have exchanged many an email over the course of the past two years. On days or weeks like this, when I feel isolated, unable to relate to others around me, and not sure what on earth is going to help me move forward, I receive an email like Karen's. Karen's email helped me understand that I am NOT alone, that she too is painfully grieving for the loss of her son, and she too is confronted with how to survive such a loss. Karen's words meant a lot to me and I encourage my readers to check out the link below to Keaton's website. Karen is a powerful writer as well.
I end tonight's posting with Karen's message and a link to Roberta Flack's song, Killing me softly. I agree Karen, I am telling my life with Mattie's words. So well stated!!!! Karen wrote, "For some reason, last week, I started reading back on Mattie's blogs, and ended up sitting for hours, and reading every post, back to the first of this blog. The more I read, the closer I felt to you, and I am amazed at how your words so exactly echo my feelings. Have you ever heard that old Roberta Flack song "Killing me softly?" In it the chorus goes,- He was strumming my heart with his fingers...telling my life with his words,... and another part of the lyrics say "I felt he'd found my diaries, and read each one aloud." Anyway, your words remind me of that song, and I feel that you are probably one person who really does understand just how I feel. Sometimes it seems to me that all those around me have made it through their grief, and gone on with their lives, while I have not even actually been able to accept the reality that my son is gone, and as such have not even started the real grieving process. But I do notice that those blinding flashes of reality that hit me like a lightning bolt of pain, seem to be occurring more often these days, and I am not sure how it is possible to survive this unspeakable loss, this impossible reality. Thanks for your support on Keaton's guest page..it means a lot to me." Karen, Mother of Keaton for Always www.caringbridge.org/visit/keatonlee
Roberta Flack's Killing me softly
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dpNdMIAnKko
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