Tonight's picture was taken in July of 2002. Mattie was three months old. In fact, this picture was taken in my sister-in-law's living room, the day after Mattie's baptism. At that time, Peter's brother and family were living in DC, and Mattie had the wonderful opportunity to spend time on a regular basis with his cousins. A connection which he very much enjoyed. I recall the baptism, the excitement we had around that event, and the feeling that this was a beginning for our family.
Quote of the day: Because of you, I love a little more. Because of you, I take time to give an extra kiss good-bye. Because of you, I have a new favorite song. Because of you, there may be dust on the window sill, and I don't care. Because of you, I live today, before I worry about tomorrow. Because of you, I don't give up quite as fast. Because of you, I still believe in rainbows. Because of you, now I can help or listen more. Because of you, today, I am me. ~ Eileen Wernsman
As this quote so aptly expresses, because of Mattie and my experiences with him, "I am me!" I am NOT the same me some of you knew two years ago (precancer). Cancer and death have permanently changed me, and I am not sure if it is for the better or the worse. I do know that what interested me in the past, no longer does. I prioritize aspects of my life differently and in many ways my ability to absorb comments and put them in the appropriate context is skewed. Instead, I now can get easily hurt, misinterpret what is said to me, and feel mortally wounded all at the same time. Within the past couple of weeks, I received at least four comments about our Foundation's annual spring walk. The comments and who said them are not important, but what is important was how I reacted to them internally. As people move on with their lives, which is only natural, our Walk becomes less and less vital or a priority to them. It is certainly understandable and I knew it was bound to happen. But I suppose I wasn't really ready to accept an additionally painful reality right now. For Peter and I, the Foundation Walk is a vital and effective way of increasing pediatric cancer awareness, for building and strengthening our support base, and for ultimately remembering Mattie. Mattie's fight will always remain in our hearts and minds, and this memory ignites a passion to help other children and their families. Of course, I realize not everyone can share this passion with me, or sustain it long term. I accept that on some level, and at the same time simply feel hurt, because I would hope that others, would value the Walk, if for nothing else, because it means so much to me.
I had the wonderful opportunity to meet the "bead lady" at her studio in Virginia. Deborah, who I call the "bead lady," is an artist who also volunteers her time weekly at The Georgetown University Hospital. In fact, the bracelet Mattie made me, which I wear each day, was a creation he made with Deborah. Mattie and I made several jewelry pieces with Deborah over the course of his treatment. Deborah has thousands of beads, and seeing her transport these bins to the hospital each week was not only a sight, but a very welcome diversion. In fact, after my very first session with Deborah at the Hospital, I began to look forward to her visits. Her projects kept my hands busy and my mind engaged. Engaged in colors, searching through bins of beads, and it also got Mattie and I talking. We had fun sitting side by side doing these creations, and I remember these moments fondly.
I told Deborah today that her visits with us in the Hospital were therapeutic and in fact, it has become very obvious to me that as I try to cope with Mattie's death creativity is imperative to me. Deborah was kind enough to make the time to see me today and give me some basic tips on how to start creating jewelry. I would love to be able to use my creativity to design pieces for the Foundation and raise money for pediatric cancer at the same time. Deborah is a very special individual, who is well aware of the world of cancer, since she was her father's caregiver. Her father had a terminal case of lymphoma and she provided 24 hour, seven day a week care for him in her own home. After losing her dad to cancer, she began to use her skills to help others. Her beading program in the hospital helps countless adults and children each year, and I admire her convictions to help those struggling with cancer. She remembers Mattie quite well, and she is also a blog reader. She in fact asked me today the significance of the moon and its connection to Mattie.
As some of you know, when Mattie entered preschool, he was given a symbol. A symbol that would represent him in the classroom and a symbol which started with the same first letter of his name, M. Most preschool children can't read, but they can all identify symbols. So a symbol is a fabulous identifier, and also helps children get to know their letters, by linking letters to symbols. So during Mattie's first year in preschool, his symbol was the MOON! Many of Mattie's classmates nicknamed him, Mattie Moon. It was a title that stayed with him throughout preschool, and certainly it was a nickname we all adopted at home. Though Mattie is no longer with us, his moon shines brightly, and Peter and I look to this celestial body for comfort!
I learned a lot from Deborah today, and what I deduced quickly about making jewelry was that it is an art form. I asked Deborah where she gets her ideas for the creations she produces. Keep in mind that her jewelry is quite beautiful and her use of color is stunning. Deborah pulled out a color wheel (an abstract illustrative organization of color hues around a circle, that shows relationships between primary colors, secondary colors, complementary colors, etc.) which she painted on canvas. From her color wheel she showed me how she determines what color beads will complement and accentuate each other. It was fascinating and to see examples of the jewelry pieces she created from understanding the art of color. I enjoyed my time with Deborah and I appreciate her willingness to help me and her support for my new artistic endeavor.
As I was driving home today, on the radio I heard Alabama's song, Angels Among Us. This song is played quite often during the holiday season, and I can't help but think of Mattie when I hear it. He was definitely placed on this earth for a purpose, and I am determined to understand the true meaning of that purpose. I attached a link to the song below, in case you would like to hear it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ey0HrEvh44c
I saw Ann briefly today and dropped off the candy trees to her house. My lifetime friend Karen, loved the tree picture I posted last night and she sees all sorts of potential with them, and this morning I received an email from my friend, Tamra, who described the trees as whimsical and chic! Music to my ears!
I took myself out to lunch today. Something I would never have done prior to cancer. To me lunch was always a social thing, and typically I do prefer eating and socializing, however, post-cancer, I find spending quiet time with myself and a book are simply fine. It is peaceful, I operate on my own time frame, and I can feel however I want to feel. As I continue to plug away at the book Saving Henry, I found myself crying at times at lunch. Certainly I could read this book at a quicker pace, but I find based on the content I just can't. I have to read this book in digestible pieces. Mainly because it is a story of a family whose son has a life threatening illness and the intense and heroic battle they undertake to save his life. I know Henry dies at the end, so I already relate to this plot. For me reading is NOT about breezing through facts and getting content. It is instead about absorbing and feeling what I am reading. This is reading on a deeper level from my perspective and such investment takes time. Any case, I sat today, went through two pots of hot tea, lunch, several crying fits, and also made some headway on this book.
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