Tonight's picture was taken on April 4, 2003. Or in other words, Mattie's first birthday. Mattie had an Elmo party, since he was in love with the red furry Sesame Street character. Mattie was always attracted to red as a color, and Elmo's high pitched voice would stop Mattie in his tracks. In fact, Elmo was about the only thing on Sesame Street that truly grabbed Mattie's attention. When Elmo was on, he was transfixed to the television. Otherwise, for the most part, Mattie was rather indifferent to television. With Mattie there was NEVER a fear that he would be a couch potato. His mind, hands, and body were ALWAYS on the move!
Quote of the day: The world became eternally divided into a before and after. ~ Tove Ditlevsen
For the past week, I have been posting quotes that my friend Charlie gave me. A while back she came across a compilation of quotes from parents who have lost a child. Each of these quotes speaks volumes to me, and tonight's quote is absolutely STELLAR. I couldn't describe it better, because I do view my life in two distinct parts. Prior to Mattie's cancer, I viewed the world on a developmental continuum. In which I can recall aspects of my childhood, teenage years, college life, and naturally adulthood. However, all of this is NOW gray. Instead, what defines my life is cancer. I now have two distinct segments of my life.... precancer and postcancer. In some ways, I am sure parents can relate to this before and after connotation. After all, your life is one way before you have children, and then once a child enters your life, your world completely changes. Becoming a parent is a challenging endeavor, and unlike TV, movies, and books, raising a child doesn't always go according to plan. In fact, it may be the toughest job one undertakes in a lifetime.
Before Osteosarcoma entered our world, Peter and I classified our lives as BM (Before Mattie's birth) and AM (After Mattie's birth). I found raising Mattie all encompassing, and I do think at times when you become a mom, it is easy to lose yourself in the process and you almost forget who you are. You simply don't have the time to invest in yourself. Of course, by day I was a mom, and worked from home electronically, but by evening, I had to pull it together and teach at the university. That forced me into a different reality, but despite my professional hat, everyone knew about Mattie. In most of my classes, Mattie was definitely a focus of attention. I would bring pictures in, even sonogram pictures of Mattie to illustrate my points. As a professor, I always felt it was important to be approachable to my students and for them to see me as a person, not just someone who was evaluating them. This became my philosophy early on, especially since I went through YEARS of graduate school where most of my professors were not only unapproachable, but also unwilling to model and share aspects of their lives with their students. In the counseling field, I always felt it was important to model the actions and behaviors you hoped to receive as well as what you hoped to foster and nurture within others.
For those of you who knew me prior to Mattie's illness and death, I realize some of you struggle with my current identity. In fact, I went to my monthly professional licensure board meeting today, and one of my board members asked if I have resumed my teaching position. Somehow me and teaching go together in the minds of others, and I agree it is what defined me for over half of my life. However, you must trust me when I say that cancer has changed me. It has changed my outlook, priorities, and interests. The scary part is then, who am I now? I DON'T KNOW! Which is why I told Mary and Margaret I am living in the land of LIMBO yesterday. Being in limbo is not a comfortable place to be, most likely because I think it is possible to be there for quite some time. I have been beating myself up the past two days for feeling in limbo, but then it has dawned on me while writing tonight, that I just have to live with this feeling. This is yet another great feeling to contend with in the process of grief and losing a child. I could try to escape limbo, but in the end, that would only be a good short term solution, not a healthy long term one.
When I got home this afternoon, I felt like I had been up for days and was exhausted. So literally I crawled into bed and actually fell asleep. Peter got home this evening, and we did our usual Friday night routine which was to go out to dinner in our complex. We chatted, saw neighbors, and caught each other up on our day.
I found out yesterday through a fellow preschool mom and friend that a little boy who went to Mattie's preschool was diagnosed with cancer. The little boy, Warrick Wolf, is in first grade, and just had a tumor removed from his chest. He is currently undergoing chemotherapy, but at this point his outcome is uncertain. It is my hope that all of you will keep Warrick in your thoughts and prayers. For those of you who live in the Washington, DC area, I want to alert you to a fundraiser happening this Wednesday, January 19 at Chili’s Restaurant at Bailey’s Crossroads (5501 Leesburg Pike). This restaurant is sponsoring a fundraiser to help support the Wolf’s heavy medical expenses. Should you be interested in helping out, you should plan to take the flyer below to restaurant anytime on January 19, present it to your server, and 20% of your check will go to the Wolf family. Our hearts go out to the Wolf family, and as many of my readers now know, the incredible battle this family will have ahead of them.
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