Tonight's picture was featured on our Christmas card in 2007. Mattie was five years old. Behind Mattie, you can see his Christmas train. Mattie loved this train, and each year, this Santa train (which blew puffs of smoke out of its smoke stack, and had a waving Santa conducting the train) was featured around our tree. Mattie introduced me to trains, because prior to him, I never played with a train in my life. However, his love for locomotives inspired me, and after a while, I too was enamored by the history, mechanics, and beauty of trains.
Quote of the day: Out of love comes suffering; out of suffering comes loves. That is the mystery. ~ Louise Cordana
In the course of the last two days I received an email from one of Mattie's favorite preschool teachers, Lana, and a link to a song sent to me by Ann. Ironically the sentiments in both messages centered around the biblical connections between my loss of Mattie, my only son, and the loss Mary experienced with her son, Jesus. I certainly am in NO way implying that my life and Mattie's are equivalent in nature to Mary and Jesus, however, I do think that losing Mattie in such a painful and devastating manner, gives me greater insights into the personal sacrifices of Mary. Mary is a central figure in my religion, Catholicism, however, I must admit that I did not have a true concept for what it meant to give birth to a child and then to see him die before one's eyes. I unfortunately get it all too well now. Mattie wasn't nailed to a cross, but seeing a six year old hooked up to chemotherapy, have his body scarred from limb salvaging surgeries, and then die gasping for air and screaming in pain seems rather equivalent to me!
Here is the message I received from Lana this morning which got me thinking. Lana wrote, "I just was reading the blog and I had actually read the comments from your friend Karen. I'm so happy you have her, someone who really understands some of what you went through and the horrible journey you still have to tread. I've told you that I also read a blog from another woman who lost her child this past May, and so often I think "that's the same thoughts Vicki shares." Well yesterday's post really touched me and again I thought of you. Here's an excerpt:
Every book and article and essay I’ve read since Henry died says that people who lose a child are forever changed. This is not a temporary grief. Parents who lose a son or daughter don’t ever “get over it.” I know that I am fundamentally different. For one thing, I don’t imagine that I will ever feel joy in quite the same way ever again – even during this most joyous of seasons. Don’t misunderstand – I treasure every moment with the people I love – particularly my children – far more than I did before losing their big brother, but the joy in my life is now a more muted, less vibrant version of what I felt before. Colors are duller. Music is less interesting. Food lacks the same flavor. As a progressive Christian, this year, I have tried to ponder the provenance of Christmas. I’ve spent some time thinking about Mary, mother of Jesus, and how she must have felt to lose her son. And I’ve also thought a lot the other mothers all over the world, all across the ages who have grieved the death of a beloved child. I am struggling to find meaning, and spiritual growth in my loss, and in Henry’s life journey. But really, to be honest, my yearning to figure out what it all means has kind of fallen flat. I have totally failed in my attempts at Christmas-related spiritual growth and inner peace because really, all I wanted for Christmas was the one thing I can never have – the same thing I will wish for every Christmas for the rest of my life. Hug your babies tight this holiday season, and every day. Don’t take one minute of it for granted. And take pictures. Lots of pictures.
I thought "well Vicki did take lots of pictures!"...and I so enjoy you sharing them each day. I've already told you that I, of course, LOVE 3-4 year old Mattie, best, when he was also "my" Mattie."
I appreciate hearing from other moms who have lost a child. As Henry's mom indicated above, when you lose a child, life is NEVER the same. In fact, I have used the same words as she..... life is more muted, less vibrant, and duller. In reading her feelings, it was like I was reading my own writing! Yesterday Ann sent me the link below to a Kenny Rogers song entitled, "Mary did you know?" As we recently celebrated Christmas, the birth of Jesus, it is hard not to make comparisons between Mary and other moms who have lost a child. So when I heard this song, it had me pause. I asked Ann why she sent it to me, because clearly I knew she wasn't reminding me of the Christian significance of the holiday. I suspected she was telling me the meaning she sees in Mattie's death. As Ann stated to me, "just like Jesus, Mattie's life and death also had purpose." I have a feeling I will be spending the rest of my life trying to find this purpose. However, I suspect, nothing that presents itself will suffice or justify this loss to me.
Kenny Rogers' song: http://www.andiesisle.com/didsheknow.html
On our walk, I also observed a man flying a battery powered plane. My mom and I both couldn't help but think of Mattie. Mattie loved flying planes, it was a close second to building with Legos!
As we were driving back home, we literally had to stop the car because this house caught our attention. Every inch of this house was lit! In addition, it had a mailbox that mechanically opened itself, and when it did, it played music. The walkway of the house was lined with toy soldiers and what you can't see is on the lawn, there were other parts of the display moving. All I can say is WOW! Mattie was very much into Christmas light displays, and I honestly think this one would have sent him reeling in joy. I would like to end tonight's posting with a message from my friend, Susan. Susan wrote, "As I was reading the blog this past week and the talk about how people chose different ways to remember Mattie, I felt an emptiness because I hadn't done a thing like that. So I pondered on it for awhile and I hit upon what I thought is a great idea. I was doing my usual load up of unused stuff for Goodwill and came upon an unopened jewelry box kit I had bought for Ari years ago...I was going to give it to Goodwill but then remembered that at TC we have collect things for Toys for Tots. That's when it hit! I used to have such a great time shopping for Mattie, what if I put that same energy into shopping for Mattie but then gave the gift(s) to Toys for Tots? I am so excited about this that I can't even wait for next year!!!! I've started making my list of things I got him that he liked. First and foremost of course is the dinosaur kit. Prayers for a speedy recovery to Peter! I think you are right, being on vacation allowed him to let down his defenses a bit and the sickness had a chance to flow in. While I knew that both of you were extraordinarily strong when nursing Mattie, I don't think most of us realized how very strong you are until he passed away. I believe all the physical afflictions you are experiencing is a testament to your strength. Mattie was first in your life, so you stuffed down everything you were feeling so you could minister to him. But now, sadly that Mattie is gone and you no longer are caring for him everything you could have felt at the time is manifesting itself in your physical afflictions. You did what you needed, wanted, and had to do which was take care of Mattie. All that "stuffing down" combined with the grief and sorrow you rightfully feel is an overwhelming combination."
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