Monday, January 3, 2011

Monday, January 3, 2011

Tonight's picture was taken in January of 2006. Margaret, Mattie's preschool teacher, snapped this photo of us in her classroom. I made gingerbread houses for the children to decorate. It was a day of excitement in the preschool because first Mattie's class worked on the houses, and then later in the morning, all the other classrooms had a chance to add their ideas to the houses. I will never forget the look on the children's faces when they tasted the "royal icing" used to glue the candy pieces to the houses. I think the children were expecting glue but were happily surprised to taste sugar instead! It was one of those precious moments in time. Thankfully, I selected a cooperative preschool, which meant that parents were required to participate in the classroom on a regular basis. I look back on that decision as absolutely brilliant. I was always very involved in every aspect of his growth and development, and somehow I knew early on that I did not want to miss out on anything as it related to Mattie.

Quote of the day: The heart hath its own memory, like the mind. And in it are enshrined the precious keepsakes, into which is wrought the giver's loving thought. ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


Longfellow was absolutely right! My heart has a memory, actually a very deep and intense memory at that. In fact, I can remember places and people by how they made me feel. I may not necessarily remember all the content in these interactions, but feelings and emotions are basically recorded and stored in my heart. Fortunately I have such a memory bank, because within it is locked away the fact that I had a son, all the precious, tender, and loving moments I had with him in seven short years, and of course like any memory bank, it is also filled with memories of pain, sadness, and incredible destruction (which can happen to a body and mind ravaged by cancer).

It was another cold and rainy day in Los Angeles, however, when I return to Washington, DC on Tuesday, I have a feeling, LA's cold is going to be quite appealing in comparison. Despite the weather, we got out and about today. Along our journey, we bumped into my parent's neighbors. I had never met this particular family before, so when this 11 year old boy was waving in my direction and then saying hello to me, I was confused but responded. He then explained to me that he lived two doors down from my parents and continued on talking. What got me to take notice was his ability to be so engaging and communicate so well. He made wonderful eye contact, answered questions so well, and was charming. As he continued to talk with us, a part of my mind drifted off, and wondered what Mattie would have been like when he turned this boy's age? Naturally a question I have absolutely NO answer to, however, I imagine what caught my attention about this little boy was his spark. This type of spark and initiative are things that I always saw and admired in Mattie's eyes.

It is in encounters like this today, which make me pause and wonder why on earth Peter and I will never get the opportunity to see Mattie grow and develop? Why are so many other parents spared these experiences, and yet we were chosen to live with such intense grief? Mattie's death has left me with a great deal of questions and very few answers! I assure you living with all these questions and unsettling feelings is not easy.

I return to DC after 10pm on Tuesday, so on Tuesday night, Peter will be writing the blog! I appreciate him doing this because after a full day of travel, I am never sure what my energy level will be like. For those of you who know how well I fly, keep me in your thoughts.